chicago hey arnold



A bead of sweat dislodged itself from the strands of hair near my ear, traced my jaw bone, trickled down my bare heaving breast, and splatted onto his cornflower blue sheets.

I peeled my hands off of his tattooed shoulders and leaned back, wiping my hands down my neck. I breathed heavily and moaned, “It’s so hot.”

Ricardo grunted back in satisfaction. He gripped my hips and pressed them further into him. His head resting on the mattress and his dark eyes dreamily tracing my body above him, he seemed entranced by the heat.

“No, like – fuck! – can I open a window?”

The corners of his mouth pinched Ricardo’s bearded face into a small smile, and he shrugged. I rose shakily and attempted to shimmy the old window open. White paint crumbled into my hand. Like the feverish waves vibrating towards the tiny attic’s pitched ceiling, my desperate energy jammed the frame up. I leaned my naked body out, searching for cool relief. Sounds of splashing water and children’s laughter filled the bedroom. Fanning myself, I looked down the small alley between the row houses. A fountain of crystaline water sprayed from a fire hydrant, reflecting the hot sun into a rainbow of light. Kids shrieked gleefully and ran through the spray.

Their celebration traveled up to my window. I gripped the bottom of the frame and leaned back, crouching down and giggling. Ricardo rested on one elbow and gave me a lethargic smirk.

I flashed him a devilish look, “Someone popped a fire hydrant.”

Leaping through the forceful stream of water, I watched the baby blue of Rick’s dos Santos LA Galaxy jersey turn navy and stick heavy against my body. The refreshing droplets gave gloss to the sticky sweat on my arms. I twirled and sent a joyful spray of water beads in all directions. Two little girls peered down from a row house window and waved frantically. My laughter roared, and I waved back.

It was my third date with Rick, my first time having sex with Rick, and my last time seeing Rick. When I remember that day, I am overwhelmed with a wave of colors and emotions. I remember the unbridled shrieks of those kids upon experiencing the ecstatic shock of the cold water. I remember childish freedom, and I almost forget Rick was even there.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s