Based on a true story.
The date had been great so far, and he was nervous when he suggested they head to his place to listen to records, but he knew his intentions were fairly innocent. She accepted following some hesitation, and after a quick tour of the downstairs they sat on opposite sides of his plaid couch, chatting as the album Colours by Claudine Longet played.
They talked about all kinds of things people talk about when getting to know one another, and as the conversation continued, the record ended and he flipped it and returned to her.
It wasn’t until he’d switched to Donovan’s Greatest Hits, a few albums later, that he noticed that every time he got up to switch the record, she nonchalantly inched a bit closer to his side. Once he realized this, his heart sped up a bit, but started returning to the couch a bit closer as well, until their knees were touching during “God Help the Girl” by Stuart Murdoch.
It wasn’t until Astrud Gilberto’s “The Shadow of Your Smile” that her finger poked his hand playfully, and he opened it, inviting hers in. She smiled, looked at him with her big, greenish-brown eyes, and their fingers intertwined as she rested her head onto his shoulder.
They talked about music, life, everything, as the needle played beautiful music into the air, and she pushed into him a little more, making the butterflies explode in his chest. He put his arm around her and held her a little tighter as they discussed exes, quirks and other oddities that naturally came up in conversation.
The record stopped, and he didn’t want to get up this time. He enjoyed having this girl in his arms, and she squeezed him, subtly telling him not to get up, but he wanted to put on one more record. She’d mentioned a certain someone she liked, and so he felt it was his obligation to play it for her, to show her that he not only listened to what she said, but that he valued it.
“I really don’t want to get up, but we need more music,” he said as she gave him a sad look but released him from her hold. He walked over to the shelf and searched for the one he was looking for, found it, and before she knew it the needle was lowering onto the vinyl and he was returning to his original position on the couch.
The song “Come Dance With Me” started and she smiled, recognizing his attempt to impress her by playing The Best of Frank Sinatra, and she held him a little tighter. He felt that enlightened feeling boys get sometimes when they know they impressed a girl they like, and they talked and cuddled a bit more as the needle slowly made its way across the record to the last song, “Put Your Dreams Away,” at which point he made to get up, she sat up, and he kissed her. Their first kiss, as the lyrics played, “Let your kiss confess this happiness, darling, and put all your dreams away.”
“Good timing,” she said. He didn’t mention it was purely chance. He didn’t even know the lyrics to the song, and listened. “When your dreams at night fade before you, then I’ll have the right to adore you.”
And adore her he did.