Providence.
The summer before my junior year of college, I spent a great deal of time with Amy. In my mind, we had established the "rules" as being "just friends"; we spent EVERY summer together, and had for five years.
That summer, after work, I'd swing by her house, pick her up, and we'd go see a movie or hang out in the park nearby, basically because we didn't want to be stuck at home with our parents and siblings (we both had lousy home situations).
One night in a movie, she put her head on my shoulder.
I thought it was innocent, but I liked it a lot.
A few weeks later, I won VIP tickets to a concert at Rivinia. Normally I wouldn't've gone, but these were $150 a seat tickets to see a performer (Thomas Hampson) I really admired, whom I got to meet after the concert. I invited Amy to come along... still not thinking "date".
Amy dressed to impress. She was a jeans-and-tshirts tomboy, but not that night. Even though she wasn't really interested in the music, she went with me, and we had a really great time. By the time we got home, we were joking about the fact that it was my first real "date".
A few weeks later, while her parents were on vacation, we made plans to hit the video store and veg out watching movies all day.
I came over with an armload of movies, but an innocent back scratch turned into 14-hours of sensual, wordless Amy-massaging without any interruption (massage, not sex, folks). We were literally unaware of the passage of time. It was noon, I looked up and it was 2:00AM.
She gave me a long hug and walked me to my car... and the next day, everything was pretty much back to normal. I was too shy, and to be honest I half-convinced myself I dreamed what had happened. But we fell right back in to walking around Lemon Lake and then to Dairy Queen for a dipped cone. Neither one of us talked about it.
The day before I went back to school, as I was saying good-bye (I thought until winter break) I worked up the nerve to ask her for a kiss goodbye. She did. Enthusiastically. With tongue.
The next weekend, she came down to Purdue's campus, found my dorm and literally surprised me by showing up at my door with a big, evil grin on her face.
I *still* thought of her as my friend during this time so that night when she crawled into my bed, I laid next to her, fully clothed and deathly afraid to touch her for fear of offending her. I was 19 and obviously very naive about these things (this from someone who worked as a bouncer in a strip club at 17).
The next day it was hot. 99F and probably 85% humidity (bad enough that someone I went to high school with who attended Purdue with me died that day after his daily crosscountry training). She was parked someplace highly inconvienent to go back and forth, so we walked the two-ish miles to campustown, since that was really all that there was to do. We visited shops and bookstores and eventually settled on a particular pizza place for our early dinner.
Except, as we walked in, Amy started to collapse. I caught her... lowered her to the ground, watched her face turn pale. I screamed for someone to call an ambulance. It hit me, then. I understood how she must've felt about me, to come for her visit, to sleep in my bed. I understood the responsibility I had been given, then trust that had been placed in me, and I felt the fear boil up out of my heart that I'd never told her how I really felt when I was so close to maybe never being able to tell her.
I screamed all the louder, unable to let go even as strangers rushed in to find out what had happened.
The EMTs came five agonizing minutes later. She had lost consciousness, either from low blood sugar or heat stroke but after a few minutes with an oxygen mask and a few cups of grape soda, she felt well enough to let me and one of the EMTs move her to a chair.
We stayed in the restaurant until it was dark and cool, and she leaned on me almost the whole long walk back to my dorm room.
That night we laid in my bed and... it wasn't what you would expect. We told each other how we really felt. We were both shy and afraid of driving the other away, and we both knew that we were either about to have something really magical and special, or we were about to ruin a perfect friendship. At four-thirty in the morning, hoarse from hours of whispering, she said "I love you."
It was unbidden, and had nothing to do with the previous moment's conversation.
"I love you, too." slipped out even as I realized the enormity - and the truth - of what I had said.
That was really all there was. It was settled. There were lingering kisses, a few enjoyable moments explaining all the places where I was now encouraged to put my hands, and then a gentle snore as she snuggled up against my chest for the first time.
---
If you can figure out where in all that to draw the line, Howell, let me know. Amy's the only person I can say with certainly to have made that jump since I was a boy.