There were butterflies in her ear

I couldn't stop staring at her ear because her earrings were some sort of swarm of butterflies climbing upwards. I loved those types of earrings but I would never wear them. My simple studs were all papa would allow. But she had tiny golden butterflies flitting about her ear. As though they might be whispering to her secret things. All the butterflies were gold, golden butterflies for a perfect golden girl. But there was one in the middle of all the butterflies that was just an outline, there was a vacancy, and I wanted to a fill it. I could be the closest butterfly to her, I wanted to whisper into her ear that I wanted to kiss her neck and run my fingers through her hair.

I started. We were in Spanish class and I was sitting behind her and I suddenly got the feeling that I had actually whispered something of my thoughts out loud. I looked around to check but no one seemed to have noticed if I did say anything. We were still listening to Senora Rodriguez drone on about Juan Ramon Jimenez and fleeing the Spanish civil war and apparently no one was aware of my own Spanish civil war.

Oh take me away to Puerto Rico, Emilia

When the bell rings I can't wait to pretend to lose her, follow her but not follow her. We're both moving through the crowd but no one can tell I am secretly fixated on the girl gliding through my peripheral vision towards her locker. My locker is next to hers but I have to savour being able to see her without her seeing me seeing her. I have to save my limited conversation for our walk home.

So I say hi to a few people who are kind of friends, I make a comment about a party happening on the weekend and my papa hating my boyfriend. I participate, function, just get through.

And I take my time at my locker sorting through the books I need for homework and what I can leave here and I just love the thought of her waiting for me. Every minute I'm wasting pretending I'm not thinking about her, humming a tune to myself as I decide if I need to work on maths tonight, she's out there. She's by the bikes, she's alone, she'll say hi to others but she won't really have a conversation. Her perfect, pretty, pouty face will be bored wondering why I'm taking so long. Probably the only time of day when I know she'll be thinking of me and I'm not thinking of her. Except I am.

So finally I'm walking towards the bike racks, and in my mind I can see her. Long brown hair, her skinny legs beneath the knee length plaid pleated skirt that hangs off of her like a tapestry that tries to decorate a roman ruin but cannot do the ancient immaculate marble justice. But when I walk out through the doors ready to receive the full hit of my daily dose of Emilia Mata, I freeze in shock and rage to see her with Mateo and Hugo. Boyfriends. How I hate our boyfriends.

No matter, I quickly compose myself before they see my surprise and annoyance, and walk casually towards my target.

"Maya, my love, why do you always take so long out of Spanish?" her voice sings to me.

"The party on Saturday - the Martinez place is huge, we have to go even if just to get lost in that mansion" Hugo dares to say to me. He tries, bless him. His dark handsome face is giving me a suggestive look and he's trying to do that crooked smile that looks so good on boys.

"Yeah yeah OK, Emilia and I will discuss logistics on our way home and we'll call you both with our plans" I can act all girly-bossy and gossipy when I need to.

I follow that with, "see you tomorrow then, you" a quick poke of his school shirt before leaning confidently in to kiss him. I'm convincing, but I'm not in this kiss, I'm in her eyes looking at this kiss.

I try not to concentrate as she says goodbye to Mateo. I pretend to be admiring Hugo getting on his bike and watching him ride away. When I see the back of Mateo on his own bike cycling after Hugo I turn myself to see what I had wanted to see before this rude interruption. Emilia Mata all to myself. She beams at me. We begin our walk.

Emilia and I have been walking home together for two years now, since we were 15 years old. We are best friends and share everything, especially about having sex with our boyfriends, which we were nervous about at first but is great to complain about now. Whenever we want to talk about sex we walk home through the old quarry park, sometimes when we get carried away, we sit and talk longer.

"Let's walk home through the quarry?" I suggest.

"Ooh I'm excited!" I live to see her eyes light up like this.

Sitting together with our legs stretched out before us on a large rock between lush green trees, we look upwards, leaning backwards on our hands. I had made up some bullshit about Hugo not wanting to wear a condom anymore, to my surprise, her and Mateo are having the same problem, I'm too good at this. We both agree to covertly research what can be done to please our menfolk - email you about it later.

"Emilia." I bring my head down and look her dead in the eyes.

"What's up?" So flippant at first, but then she sees my sincere look. Her delicate eyebrows crease as her face expresses concern and she leans towards me. Emilia you are dangerously close my dear.

"What is it? Tell me, please... you're not pregnant already are you?"

Her voice is tiny and soft. I cannot say it with words. I know I cannot.

My eyes must have given away my vulnerability, she wants to comfort me I can see it. So I lower my eyes. All I can bring myself to do is to pick up my right hand, and brush the backs of my fingers against the outside of her left thigh. Low enough for it to be bare, high enough for her to know what I mean. I have started to do this before I have thought and now I can feel my heart suddenly beating like a hummingbird's and I've already put it through a few stop-starts today.

I don't know how long I gently stroke her leg for, but when I finally muster the courage to look back up at her face rather than at my stupid hand on her smooth thigh, she has her eyes closed.

She's... breathy. I have never seen her like this and it immediately does things to me. I remove my right hand from her left leg and replace it with my left hand, fingers down on the inside of her leg, running them from just below her knee to perhaps a little too high above it. With my right hand I push my fingers into the hair around her face, stroking it backwards and she opens her eyes and looks deeply into mine.

"Maya, just kiss me"

That's all I need. She's letting me do this. She closes her eyes again as I bring my face to hers and our foreheads touch. Her lips are slightly open and as I bring mine into hers I can't help but squeeze her leg with my hand. Our lips part and as they come together again I also tighten my right hand in her hair and she gives the slightest, quietest moan. A little "mm".

As she lets out that golden gift to me my body responds by ensuring I'm lubricated. Feeling the discomfort in my underwear, I pull away. For a good two seconds we both stare at each other, neither of us touching one another any longer. Then we both snap our heads to look straight forwards, breathing. In my brain I'm jumping like I've never jumped before, but I'm used to hiding my elation at my alone time with Emilia. She looks shell shocked.

I'll give her some normalcy then. I've had more than my hit today.

"Em, c'mon we should get home." I jump to my feet and swing my satchel onto my shoulder. I hold out my hand to help her up.

"Yeah. Yeah OK." She takes my hand and gets up and picks up her own bag. She gives me an odd look, like she's trying to figure something out. I'm back to pretending I don't feel this way.

"Maya.." she begins,

"It's OK Emilia. It's OK. Honestly it's fine." I say. I think she gets it.

We start to walk and by the time we're out of the park we're talking again like nothing happened. We say goodbye when we get off the bus in our usual way with a hug. I can't tell if she thinks it's different.

After my father berates me for even asking to go to the party on Saturday and he's halfway through talking himself around already, I retreat to my bedroom where I can relive the kiss undisturbed. I lie on my back on the bed. I stare at the ceiling until I'm there again, in the shade of the trees, with her.

She didn't freak out, she didn't push me away, disgusted.

"Maya, just kiss me" I let out my own moan now. I know I wanted badly to make her moan louder for me. To grab her crotch and her breasts and kiss her neck and lie on top of her between her legs. She felt just as I had imagined she would. Her lips so soft to kiss thinking of it made me want to cry that I wasn't still kissing her. But now I could extend my dreams to her hands on me, too.

If only Hugo had ever made me feel this way. There was a time when he had given me butterflies. But his thrusts into me felt good but they never made me feel this electricity I felt on touching Emilia. I never had a need for him and his body the way I needed her.

Damn. I forgot to tell her I liked her earrings.