“You were?” I interrupt her.

            “Of course! You were the beautiful girl I had met and then you disappeared. After that night I had always wanted to see you again, but I didn’t know anything about you. When I found out that day that you were ‘the Ashley Davies,’ notorious party girl from the freshman class, I basically couldn’t believe it. You were nothing like your reputation made you out to be.”

            “I was nervous too,” I confessed. “My palms were sweating and I didn’t want you to feel them. And I didn’t know I had such a reputation.”

            “You do,” she says and I look up. “Which is why it was pretty funny when you thought I really didn’t know you were gay.” I break a smile, but she can see I’m not happy about my so-called reputation. “That’s all in the past. You’re so different now.”

            “I wish I remembered that night,” I say honestly.

            “You really don’t drink like that anymore?” she asked.

            “No.”
            “Why not?”

            “I think I was lost and I thought drinking would help me find what I was looking for,” I replied honestly.

            “And you’re not lost anymore?”

            “No,” I reply confidently. “I found what I was looking for.” She smiles and kisses me softly.

            “Ash,” she speaks, unsure of herself. “I want to know you.”

            I chuckle as I answer, “I know.”

            “You do?”

            “Yeah,” I reply still giggling at her. “You said so last night. I’m just not sure what you mean by it.”

            “Oh,” she says blushing. “You know, I blame that shitty dance music for my drunken antics!”

            “Really? And what is your idea of good dance music, oh wise one?” I ask mocking her.

            “You know, swing music and stuff,” she says shyly

            “Swing? You listen to swing music?” I ask in disbelief.

            “No! I don’t listen to it, I dance to it” she defends herself. “Back in the ‘50’s, those guys knew how to dance. I don’t know, I guess I’m just old fashioned.”

            “You like the ’50’s?” I ask.

            “It’s my favorite decade! The music, the styles, the chivalrous men – what’s not to like?”