I took a long bath with Maria Callas playing in the background, emptying my mind. I put on a black long-sleeved skater dress, but as I inspected myself in the mirror, it seemed too provocative. I didn’t want to send the wrong message, so I changed into a different dress that wasn’t so short. I applied too much makeup which made me look like a tart, so I removed it and started again. My hands trembled as I drew on my eyeliner. I drank a glass of wine and took several drags of my cig to steady my nerves.
I went outside and hailed a taxi. I must have been out of my mind. The cabbie kept looking at me through the rear view mirror. I bet he knew what I was up to, or maybe not. I probably looked like a corporate woman heading for a meeting with a client.
I almost told the cabbie to turn around, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out. Mama by Phil Collins was playing on the radio. Here I was on my way to meet a kid, who had seen me at my worst, if not at my most degrading. It wasn’t too late to change my mind. However, I didn’t change my mind when I paid and tipped the cabbie. I didn’t change my mind when I scanned the block of flats and rang the bell. I didn’t change my mind as I plodded along the corridor adjusting the hem of my dress.
When I arrived, Michael was leaning against the doorframe, waiting for me looking flawless in black, with long earrings dangling from his ears. I like how well dressed he is, unlike those boys who wear jeans under their buttocks – they make me want to pull them up for them. He led the way. It was too late to change my mind now.
He shut the door. I smiled, and he smiled back. With the back of my hand, I ran it across his cheek feeling the softness of his skin. A sexual wave built in my groin, I moved close enough that my lips almost brush against his. I was intoxicated by his beauty, his talent, his strangeness. It was so forbidden and sexy.