When Finally We Meet

I am wearing a high school cheerleader's outfit. My blond hair is in pigtails. The only bare things are my arms, a little bit of my tiny waist and my trim, shapely legs, as my plaid skirt only comes down to mid-thigh.

"Robin?" you ask.

"No, silly." "I answer. "I'm Robbi, Robin's younger brother. Are you Mr. Smith? Robin told me you'd be coming. She asked me to keep you company until she got home. Are those flowers for Robin? She's going to love them. Please, Mr. Smith, come in and sit down while I put these in water."

You look puzzled as you come into my neat, one-bedroom apartment. I ask if I can get you anything, but you say no and sit down on the living room couch. The TV is showing VH1. Out of the corner of my eye, I see you studying me while I put the flowers into a vase. My movements are so youthfully feminine that if I hadn't told you I was Robin's brother, you would definitely think I was a young girl.

I sit down next to you on the couch with my knees underneath me. I smell and look fresh and look you right in your eyes as we chat about this and that. Your trip to see Robin. The weather. My high school. How sometimes -- like today -- I stop by my brother's apartment on my way home from school. I'm sitting a good foot away from you. You notice my blue eyes and how my trim upper body almost imperceptively shimmies while I talk and how the edges of my pig tails rest on my bare, young shoulders.

I ask you if you work out, and you ask me why I asked. I say that you seem to be in very good shape for your age. Then, realizing I had said something that could hurt your feelings, I bring both of my hands to my mouth and my eyes get very wide. I say I'm very sorry. I didn't mean it that way.

I reach out and touch your bicep, and you smile and make a muscle for me.

"My," I say. "You are awfully strong. I'm sure you must be stronger than the boys at my school."

I adjust my body so my legs are no longer under me. I'm not certain, but I think I spot you sneaking a glance at my thighs as I just happen to sit a bit closer to you. When I lean back on the couch, your left arm is behind me. You're very nonchalant as your fingertips begin to play with my bare shoulder.