Western

Freedom and lips brought opportunity, chances to make out. At a joint Starbucks / Chapters, under the pretense of helping her with French, I put my tongue in Lauren’s mouth. The kiss of balm and coffee was delicious, though I was fonder of her skinny waist, her dark-rimmed glasses. A few days later, as she straddled my lap on a bench near a war monument (or maybe before), she shared her dream of being an author. Without irony, I told her that one day I would write a book titled On Everything, a catalog of the one and only truth for every subject. She agreed to help when the time came, as I knew not girl stuff nearly as well as math and music.