Sure, Why Not? – By A. L. Cerda

We’re at the doorway to her apartment, her key entering the lock. And no, I’m not going to make the obvious double entendre quip. But this is do or die time. It’s now or never and all that jazz. God, I’m so nervous. I can’t believe I’m actually going to go through with this.

As she opens the door, I move in closer than I’ve ever dared invade her personal space. “It’s been a nice night,” I say.

“Yeah, it has been.”

Inside her apartment now. “Too bad I have to go and ruin it.” I put my hand on her arm and, in my best attempt at smooth, turn her to face me. I lean down and place my lips upon hers.

Now, having thought about this all night, I know there are three possible outcomes. Actually, there’s an infinite number of outcomes, but only three highly probably ones.

First outcome:

Jayde struggles from the kiss, violently pulling herself away. The sudden jerking action leaves me so dazed that it barely registers when the palm of her open hand slaps across my cheek. “What the fuck are you doing?” she asks in a raised and stern tone.

“I… I… I… I…” is about all I can stammer.

“I thought I had made it clear that I don’t like you in that way.”

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

There’s true hurt in her eyes, the kind that only shows when one is holding back tears. “Please. Just go now.”

Second outcome:

Jayde allows herself to melt into the kiss. She slowly pulls away and lets out a moan. A slight moan, not one of the exaggerated orgasmic ones she likes to throw out while out on the town. She looks up at me and says, “I was wondering how long it would take you.”

“Yeah, I’m not very…”

“Oh, just shut up.” She grabs my head and pulls it back to her, her mouth diving into mine. She’s passionate and intense, trying to suck the life out of me. That settles it, then. I’m spending the night.

Third outcome:

To say the kiss is lackluster is a bit of an understatement. Jayde is completely unresponsive. I try probing with my tongue but give up, as it’s quickly apparent she’s not going to reciprocate. I pull away. We stare at each other. Neither saying a word. Is there anything to say? Awk-ward.

Three guesses as to which one happened. No, wait, that would guarantee you’d eventually get it right. Okay, only one guess then.

Jayde finally breaks the silence. “Uh, thanks.” Her inflection is weird and uncomfortable. She’s not offering gratitude; Jayde just doesn’t know what to say. Well, at least I’ve left her speechless, if not in the way I hoped.

“I’m sorry,” I say, unable to maintain eye contact. “It’s just that I know if I didn’t go for it, I’d never forgive myself.” I’m sure that didn’t sound nearly as good as I intended. “Now, I’ve gone and made things awkward,” I add with a pitiful laugh.

“That’s alright. I’m no stranger to awkward, and you practically bathe in it.”

“Well, I guess I should go before things get even weirder between us,” I say.


I walk out of her apartment and, I fear, out of her life.


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Al Cerda is a former writer/editor for Generation Magazine. These days, he devotes most of his time to his family, but occasionally writes a little something

  1. This was fun! :0)

  2. Maybe the protaganist should have waited to see some response toward him develop on her face before he started lip action. Impatience has lost a lot of different kinds of things for a lot a people. The resounding coda of the last line is also a trouble maker. What to do? What to do? Suppose instead of single-dating, boys and girls early got together in groups, most would sort out their own responses pretty quickly among themselves.

    Interesting and well written story.

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