Funny Thing

We’d waited our whole lives for this.

Funny thing is…

Now it seemed time was running out of pace. Too fast for the rest of us trying to dig our heels in and possibly slow it down. We just had to learn to take pictures and attempt to hold on to what we had.

Summer rolled around quickly and I had only wanted to rid the churning in my stomach. I stood still watching the things I loved the most slip between my fingers no matter how tightly my hands were clenched.

She stood next to me as if to watch time run out.

It began to rain on our parade.

So we danced in empty parking lots. Cigarettes in hand, though you didn’t smoke and she’d learned that night away from home.

We pretended not to care and eventually quit at one point. The cigs tasted of vanilla and ashes. We’d offered you one but you just said, “No, I’d rather be drunk.”

Laughing we continued to dance.

Jenelise turned the radio to her car up.

Waving our arms in the air we imagined several visually delicious guys… correction. Men.

Catering to us and admiring our milk carton shaped bodied as if they were anything but.

Two older men came along and watched us dance. They admired Jenelise’s smile, your moves, and my curvature for such stature. They offered us your alcohol and you denied them as the group’s spokesman in Spanish.

We watched the cars hoping that the next one wasn’t your mother and father. They were asleep and we knew it, the paranoia just made it more fun to be hidden behind that liquor store at eleven o’clock at night.

When our feet became tired we loaded up and took you home.

Turning the music down as to not make your parents suspicious, forgetting about the earlier art opening and poetry reading.

We watched you head up to an empty house and sleep off a dancing hangover.

Jenelise and I headed to a coffee house to be bored into a tattoo shop.

We sang Natasha Bedingfield when Spanish music bored us.

That seven dollars worth of ice cream was long gone and so was the evening.

We spent the ride back to my house talking about boyfriends and the lack thereof.

“You know he really likes me. And when I say like I do mean like,” I stared into the license plate of the car in front of us.

“Yeah,” she spoke awkwardly to the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry Jen I forgot about how you two were…you know.”

“Its ok I mean it wasn’t anything anyways.”

Something about somehow it always seemed as thought she were lying about my dating her ex who was mine to begin with.

-Memory as noted by Charolette.

Reviews

[r]

Interesting, as always I love your voice and the form. I like it so far, and I shall read onwards! (: