He stood—slowly—and the air in the room was saturated with such awkwardness that I wanted to reach inside of myself and slap the piss out of the sixteen-year old still lurking there.
He stepped away from the table. I expected to watch him leave.
But instead he circled the table, strolled towards me and wrapped his hands right around my waist. I held my breath as he leaned in. I closed my eyes as his arms kept reaching.
Around me and around and around. Until they finally touched the stove.
He turned the knob at my back with a flick of his fingers, and with a loud and final click, the fire was extinguished. The one on the stove and the one inside of me. Deflated, I finally looked up and into his eyes.
And that’s where I found that fire that I thought had been snuffed out.
“There,” he f
