In The Baby Cemetery Day!
"You never look at me. I only know that because I look at you a lot."
You smile and take a sip from your cup of beer, spilling a bit from your lips. It seems all night long you haven't been able to take a sip without spilling a bit down your chin, onto your shirt sometimes, always wiping it away with the back of your hand. You wipe this spill away with the back of your hand, because you're going to have to try to kiss her soon.
"I thought you liked Lisa for a while." She pours some beer into the grassy grave of Jessica Hoyle, 1975-1978.
"No." You did like Lisa. You do. But Lisa's had the same boyfriend since sophomore year, and Lisa's not here, telling you she looks at you a lot.
"I hate beer." She pours some more of her cup into the grass. "Just being here is so horrible. Why always the baby cemetery?"
You take another sip and wipe your chin with the back of your hand. "More trees. Cops can't see us from the street. Less chance of getting raided."
She says, "It's like nothing we do here is disrespectful because the very fact that we would ever even come here and put a keg down on one of these graves is so disrespectful, we can't top it with our behavior once we're here."
"I don't think of it as any different," you say. "Every grave, no matter how old or how they died, everyone met the same fate. Everyone here stopped." You take a sip, wipe your chin but it's dry. You take another sip and wipe your chin and you say, "I look at you."
She doesn't look at you. Just looks ahead with a smile.
"I looked at you the first day when you walked into homeroom."
"What was I wearing?" she asks.
"Blue tank top. White skirt. Light blue, the tank top. You have a dark blue one too."
Her cheeks are big and fat like a baby's when she smiles like she's smiling now. Her free hand's in the grass next to your leg. You take a sip, and slip your hand over hers. You finish your cup. Both of you race your thumbs overtop each other, down into the crook between thumb and forefinger, then back up and over. She only turns her head to you when you lean over and she meets your kiss.
The kiss is just one, long and still. Then she moves her lips and you move yours, and you're kissing. You put the beer in the grass by your side and you put that hand on her shoulder. Then you let go of her hand and wrap that arm around her back. She follows suit, pulling you towards her. You move to your knees and she reclines so that you can climb atop her, the two of you stretched across the graves of Mae Franklin, 1989-1989, Martin Ganz, 1963-1969, and of course, Jessica Hoyle, 1975-1978.
Happy In The Baby Cemetery Day!