Transcript: "The Promise", a Story By Matthew Dicks

This is a transcript of Matthew Dicks's story, The Promise, at a NYC Moth GrandSLAM. You can watch Matthew telling the story here:

I asked Laura to be my girlfriend on the back steps of our high school. Laura was my best friend, so when I asked her, we made a promise to each other. We promised that we would always stay friends and we would always take care of each other, no matter what happened in our relationship.

I started to lean in to kiss her at that moment, but I realized it was going to be my first kiss ever, and it was going to be hers as well. So, I wanted it to be a perfect kiss.

Three days later, we were leaving for California. Our band was marching in the Rose Bowl Parade in Pasadena on New Year's Day, and Laura and I were taking separate flights. We decided to make mixtapes for each other for the flight. I sat in my bedroom with my finger hovering over the record button, waiting for the perfect Richard Marx power ballad to come on, praying that the DJ wouldn't speak over the introduction so the song would be perfect. I loaded those cassettes with all of the songs that said the things to Laura that I couldn't say myself.

But when I got on the plane and pressed play on my Walkman, there was no music on Laura's cassettes. Instead, it was her voice. It was eight hours of Laura talking to me, telling me stories about her childhood, telling me about her hopes and dreams, reading Shel Silverstein poetry to me, and singing acapella Beatles songs to me. Somewhere over the Rockies, at like 33,000 feet, I fell in love with Laura March.

And I decided she had to have the perfect first kiss. And it was perfect, because the next day we were at Disneyland. We were on the Ferris wheel, at the very top of the circle, surrounded by thousands of people in this beautiful spot, but as alone as two people could be. It was the perfect place to kiss her. And it was at that moment that I realized a perfect kiss is not really dependent upon location as much as technique. And I had never kissed anyone before, so I didn't have technique. And so, I choked and didn't kiss her.

But that was okay, because like four hours later, I was on a little stone bridge in front of Cinderella's Castle as fireworks exploded over our heads. It was perfect, and I choked and did not kiss her. So, I decided that I would kiss her the next day, New Year's Eve, on the dance floor at midnight. When the clock struck 12:00, I would kiss Laura and we would have the perfect kiss.

That morning, we snuck out of our hotel rooms and went down for breakfast early before anyone woke up. We sat and ate muffins, and Laura told me how she wanted to be just like her father when she grew up. She wanted to own her own business and raise two girls, just like he had done. And I told Laura that I wanted to be a writer someday. It was a dream I had, but I had never said it out loud in my life. She was the first one to hear it. And when we had finished our muffins, we went back to our room. But rather than taking the elevator, we decided to take the stairs in case the band directors were up. It was 14 flights up a Pasadena Holiday Inn stairwell that was sort of gray and smelled like urine and tacos, and it was already hot.

We were up ten flights when Laura told me to stop. I turned around, thinking that she was tired, that she needed to take a rest. But as I turned, she grabbed my face and pulled it to hers and kissed me. When she broke, she looked at me and said, “Can we get on with things now?”

And we did. For two years, we were like the disgusting high school sweethearts, perfect in every way. And if the things that don’t break up couples at the end of high school didn’t break us up, we might be together today. But we kept our promise, the one we made on those steps, and we stayed friends. We took care of each other.

Laura became a business owner and had her two little girls, Ava and Tess. And I became the writer that I wanted to be. Three years ago, Laura called me and said she needed my help. So, I came back to our hometown. We went right back to those steps at our high school, and Laura told me that she had cancer. She told me that she was dying of cancer, and she asked me to be the person who would tell Ava and Tess someday the stories of her teenage years, the time that we spent together.

I promised her I would. I told her that the writer I had become would write down her stories, that we would get together, reminisce, and I would capture every memory she wanted and put it down so I could share it when the girls were old enough someday.

And then, for the next two years, I did not keep my promise. I saw Laura once, but I couldn't stand the thought of seeing my high school sweetheart wither and die away. I'm looking at Facebook and I see a post from her sister Elena that says, “Laura’s back in the hospital again, and she's not doing well, but they're hoping she’s going to get out in time for Easter to celebrate.”

And that's the moment I decide, "Dammit, I need to do the right thing and keep my promise." I'm going to go back to my hometown and spend the time I need to capture her stories.

Laura dies two days later. They bury her in a cemetery where I once taught her to drive, on a hill where we once had a blanket and sat, talking about our futures. And I’m terrified to think that Laura wondered if I was going to keep my promise when she was dying. And I’m terrified to think that she died wondering if Ava and Tess would know the things she wanted them to know.

So, I’m going to keep the promise that I made on that day, 25 years ago. And every time a thought of Laura comes into my mind, it gets written down. I just pray to God that I can remember all the ones that she wanted me to remember. And when I meet Tess and Ava someday, I’ll tell them their stories. The first one I’m going to tell is about a hot and stinking stairwell in Pasadena, California, and my first kiss—our perfect first kiss.

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