Last night I saw a Karmann Ghia. Rare in DC, but where I grew up, not so rare. I have always had a crush on this car. I think about the person who drives it - and what kind of person would drive it. I'd like to meet that person. Might it be somebody like Art?
Art crushed me.
Was it his beautiful, perfect face? The surfer hairstyle he sported - side-parted, swept over his eye? His flawlessly-chiseled and bronzed face? His beautiful teeth and gorgeous smile? The single smile that always knocked me down.
Or was it his charming ways? Like the time he signed my yearbook, bluntly and youthfully writing that I was "...super hot, pretty, fine, etc." I wasn't "sweet", I could be desirous. And the time he gave me his phone number to "call" him over the summer. A phone number memorized but never called.
Or was it because he always paid attention to me, even though I was Am's little sister? Like the time he came over to my house when my parents were out of town and word got out around school that my sister was throwing a party. Only she wasn't even home. But I was and I was in my bedroom drawing. He came back into my room and sat down on my bed for a bit and liked what I was drawing and talked with me before his friends begged him to leave. He was in my bedroom.
Or was it because he always made me feel special? Like the time time I was broken - physically and mentally - after a car accident. When my braces ripped right through my bottom lip and I had 200+ stitches holding my bottom lip together. I was 15. I felt ugly. I couldn't move my mouth to smile. Art stroked my head. The compassionate smile and the tender look in his eye said I was pretty.
Or was it because he had great taste in music? We liked the same bands, went to the same shows. Did it help that he had a band in college that came back to play at my high school reunion party? Rock star points will get you everywhere.
Or was it the day he drove to school in his new car? A beautiful emerald green Karmann Ghia.
I don't know. I never got to ride in the Karmann Ghia.