That One Night

Do you remember the time when we rode the Ferris wheel at the county fair? It was so hot, but the air felt cool at the top of the wheel. I was so nervous that I could feel sweat collecting under my arms, so I held my elbows out to the side to dry my wet shirt. I hoped you didn’t notice.

Do you remember when you put your arm behind my shoulders? It pitched my neck forward, but I didn’t want to say anything because it was the first time you treated me like a girl. Not a friend. Not your neighbor. Not the girl with the big glasses and plaited hair who knows you know she loves you.

Do you remember the way the lights winked at us? The reds, the blues, the yellows, the greens. I think they knew how giddy I felt and were sending me a message, like “Good job, girlie! You got him!”

Do you remember how I took that pink cotton candy with us? It made my fingers and lips sticky, but nothing has ever tasted so sweet. I ate too much and began to feel sick from the circular motion of the wheel, but I pretended I was fine.

Do you remember how you took my hand to help me off? You smiled at me, and I smiled back.

I remember.

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2 thoughts on “That One Night

  1. As I was reading this, I felt it was one of those pieces where you write one part, and then someone else writes the next part. So that’s what I did. 🙂

    It’s funny how some memories, especially the small ones, stick out the most when you look back. I can’t even remember how we ended up at the fair. Did you ask me, finally? Or did I push you into it, and you realized only a few minutes before the Ferris wheel that you were having a good time—with me.

    That memory is as sweet now as it was when it happened, and just as sticky too. Can’t get rid of it, no matter how hard I try. And believe me, I’ve tried. Because the last thing I want to be thinking about right now is the jerk who broke my heart.

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