It doesn’t bother me

A guy leaves the party with a girl. They go for a drive. She’s on her phone texting a lot of the time, but still seems attracted to him. They drive to a nice spot up high on a hill- looking over the Northern Melbourne area. The guy’s intentions are clear. They sit there quietly for a while. They smile at each other. There is a great amount of sexual tension. They’re both too shy to make the first move. They make small talk: about the party; a film. There are several moments of silence. Several. The guy puts his hand up for a moment- contemplating making a move- but then puts it back down. The girl keeps texting on her phone.

The guy breaks the silence; saying ‘so…’ they both look at each other, the girl laughs then looks away. They talk about how there are so many lights in their view. She jokingly dares him to count them all. Then the guy comes up with an idea- he makes a bet with the girl: if he can count all the lights, she has to kiss him. She laughs for a moment and then agrees. The guy looks nervous. He starts counting quickly, making up the numbers- pretending to count. He laughs. ‘Uh, that’s eight hundred and… sixty ... seven.’ But he’s counted too quickly, the girl is unsatisfied: ‘what about that one over there? ... Did you get those ones there?’ The guy tries to make up for it, but the moment has gone. Silence returns.

Time passes. Then the guy is fed up. He asks her straight out: ‘do you want to kiss me?’ After a moment she responds: ‘it doesn’t bother me.’ This confuses the shit out of the guy. He doesn’t know what to say. After a moment he asks her what she means by that statement and she tells him that it doesn’t bother her. Bewilderment strikes the guy’s face.

He sits there for a moment. Then sighs, ‘alright.’ He turns the car back on. The girl looks shocked, but stays quiet. The guy is distraught. He releases the hand break and drives.


…Not autobiographical at all…