Her Campus Logo Her Campus Logo
placeholder article
placeholder article

Her Creative Writing: Spanish Sunset

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Utah chapter.

I could feel the sheet of protective-ice, crystalizing around my skin. Being called an, Ice Cold Bitch was one of my proudest nicknames. I usually found it almost humorous when men tried to get close to me emotionally; I turned that side of me off a long time ago. However, I could feel the center of my palm starting to relax as Collin tangled his fingers with mine.

“What’s wrong, Princess?” Collin asked.

My body tensed as I realized how quiet I had been the last few moments. “Nothing,” I said, feeling myself smile at him. “I’ve just been studying the mountains. It looks like a giant painted them with ink.” I continued to stare out the window of his truck as we drove through the winding canyon, waiting to see glimpses of the city lights as we curved higher up the mountain.

Princess.  I let the pet-name linger on my tongue for a few moments. I had only been casually seeing Collin for a week and a half, and it was already getting harder to act as if the affection didn’t make me swoon like a silly schoolgirl. His Spanish accent didn’t help the situation either.

I would be lying if I said that watching Collin back his truck into the open parking space wasn’t attractive at all. Sometimes I wondered if I had a stronger sex-drive than most women. Oh well, I’ll just add that to the list of my many problems.

“Ready?” Collin asked.

I nodded and followed him to the back of his truck. He had game; I’ll give him that. “So, is this page two in your playbook?”

He raised his dark eyebrows. “Did you just say, ‘my playbook?'”

“Yeah, it’s super cute that you think it’s actually going to work on me.”

He placed his hands on my hips and leaned into the side of my neck, “Princess, if I had a playbook it would absolutely work on you.”

Goosebumps ran up the back of my spine. Damn him.

“Good thing I don’t have a playbook,” He said, hoisting me into the bed of his truck.

I looked out at the valley, and pretended his touch didn’t make my head spin, as he set up his speaker and sleeping bag,

“Come here,” he said- patting the space next to him.

I lied next to him, and was instantly hit with the scent of cinnamon as he closed the space between us. Instead of kissing me, he turned the volume up on his speaker and started singing along to his country playlist.

Are you freaking kidding me? This was definitely step three in his playbook, Serenade the girl in the back of his truck.

That was until my favorite country song, You and Tequila by Kenny Chesney came on. I looked up at the cloudy night sky, mostly to avoid eye contact with the beautiful man next to me. I jumped as lighting cracked behind the clouds.

“I missed it!” Collin said and rolled onto his back, in hope that Zeus would throw another bolt. He moved me with him, easily- as if he was the Western Mountain range and I was the stupid sun, setting slowly in the sky and falling for all of his moves.

I could feel my insecure shield melting away as I pressed my body against him. He trapped one of my legs between his, pulling me closer. “So what’s the last step in tonight’s playbook?”

He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, mumbling something in Spanish.

“Stop.” I said, a little too aggressively.

“What, do you like when I speak Spanish?” He asked, tightening his arm around me.  

This was the end. I had no way of competing with his evil bi-lingual ways. So my obvious defense mechanism was slowly rolling away from him, and staying silent.

He started laughing hysterically. Damn, even his laugh was perfect. The combination of his arms wrapping around me, and his mysterious Spanish words attacking me made me squirm. I buried my face in his chest and thought to myself, the next time a beautiful man invites me to look out at the valley under the stars, just say no.  

I love Cabins surrounded by trees and words that combine into a beautiful story. Creating stories from my awkward life experiences is almost as great as listening to a rainstorm pattering against my window as I drift off to sleep. 
Her Campus Utah Chapter Contributor