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Yah,

there was the day Amanda and I woke up early to go skating. It was the day we went skating and got so hot we had to drive to the nearest beach, which was probably not where we intended to go. We drove through this neighborhood of the wealthy upper class with stop signs at every cross streets and signs reminding me not to drive over their children playing in the streets. At long last, the expanse of blue stretched itself out in front of us, arching its rigid back across the bed of sand. We found a deserted place to dive in and we did it. In our clothes and everything. That’s when we got out and realized we had no clothes. We had no towels. We had no cares.

Yah,

that was the day I dropped Amanda off at home and went to work. It was the day I stared at the window the entire hour, longing to be on the other side of the pane. It was the day I left work hastily to grab TD and Natalie. We went to the supermarket and got yogurt. Tyler told us to leave him at the drug store so he could get a drink while we planted my yogurt in my fridge. Upon our return, we found him seated cozily outside the automatic doors, dragging on a lazy cigarette. I popped my trunk and threw him inside. We set off, Natalie and I in the front giggling (I did not want my car to smell like smoke!), and TD in the trunk. As we screamed down 28, the light burned crimson on the lamp and we slowed, only to glance in the rear view mirror and see the Pollards in the car behind us. Not all the Pollards, but all the girls, as young Carrie had just obtained her license. I rang TD on his cellular. I told him I was about to pop the trunk and instructed him to sit up, smile and wave, and close the trunk again. I popped. I could not see what Tyler did, but I certainly saw the expressions on the Pollards’ faces. Priceless. They’re such sweet girls.

Yah,

that was the day we continued down 28 and saw a car accident, fresh out the oven. So fresh, in fact, the survivors were just now exiting their vehicles. The passing traffic slowed, but my Jetta pulled over to the side where a large woman stood with her arm around a puny black girl; tears staining her Swiss chocolate cheeks. I asked if there was anything I could do and they said no. Both were still visibly shaking, and all I could do was offer them tissues from my drivers’ side door. It was then that I remembered TD was still packed into my trunk. I released him from the trunk, to the surprise of all the slowly passing patrons, and he stood in the road. An officer from the police force drove up not one minute after I let him out and started asking questions. We were witnesses. We were okay.

Yah,

that was the day the three of us drove away from the accident after being valiantly dismissed by the officer, to Tyler’s house. Once there, we hatched a plan to make the greatest dinner of all time. We caramelized onions, sliced fresh breads, meats and cheeses, diced crisp lettuces and tomatoes and arranged our sauces on the Dennen’s kitchen counter. We feasted on our creations. This is when we began planning for the night. Amanda got off work in an hour and a half. We agreed to kill time by heading South to the sea by TD’s house, where we skipped from dock to dock, abrasively scooping up jellyfish into buckets by the heaps. There were just so many of the suckers in the water that evening. The sun was lullabying itself to sleep behind the trees as we laughed on the wood. We screamed, shouted, and photographed this evening. My best friends and I. We were lost. Carefree.

Yah,

that was the day Natalie, Tyler, and I drove to Amanda’s house. We sneaked up to her rear kitchen window, where she was making herself a bowl of ice cream at the counter. She looked at us and jumped. Calmly, she paced to the door and let us in; wild and fearless. We told her to get ready. We were leaving. Amanda ran upstairs to make herself up, leaving the three of us awkwardly in her dining room with her lovely parents. She returned. We were off. We had no idea where to, though, but that didn’t matter. Amanda guided us off the Cape via a route I had never taken before. We drove around aimlessly and ended up exiting in Wareham, where I had previously never been. After calling Kinsey on the phone to wish her a happy birthday, we stumbled across a cranberry bog, but in the pitch blackness, we could not determine that it was not a pond. Therefore, we had to explore it. Not two minutes after we pulled over to have a look, an officer of the Wareham police force pulled up with his spotlight on us wading into the bog. We froze and returned to my vehicle. He commanded from us our identification and told us to get on our way. We left; still not knowing where we were headed. But we knew one thing. The night was adolescent.

Yah,

that was the night we went to Shooters to inquire as to whether or not they serve food. Tyler ran in to ask and I moved the car. We laughed. We were intoxicated with the spirits of independent juvenescence. I gunned the car further astray and we soon found a Taco Bell. I parked a few spaces over from a car full of black people intoxicated with something else. Tyler, the socialite he is, struck up rapid conversation and found out that they were celebrating the fifth day of May with drugs and Taco Bell. The driver asked to talk to the two young women seated in my car, but Natalie and Amanda stayed put (with the exception of swapping seats so that Natalie was in the drivers’ side. They desired to take my car through the drive-thru, but the parking lot had a nasty slant to it, so my Jetta just ran up on the curb. Embarrassedly, they returned to their original seats and giggled). They donated two burritos to our night, wished us well, and drove away. Then Tyler and I looked up. We saw what we needed. What was required for our night.

Yah,

that was the night we realized that the burritos we ate were probably laced with some form of narcotic. Ironically, this realization occurred after both of said burritos had been consumed by the four of us. It was at this point that Tyler and I gazed across the parking lot and saw a liquor store. Now now, none of us had any interest in alcohol, but what we were attracted to was another staple product of liquor stores: cigars. Tyler and I rushed over to the front door, waltzed in, and examined the selection. We settled on a peach, a grape, and a honey flavored cigar. The money was given to the foreign skinned brother behind the counter and we returned to the girls with good news in our hands. Or rather, good fumes.

Yah,

that was the night we escaped the eventful parking lot with some scrapes on my car. The three of us decided that we required a memorable place to smoke the cigars. We ambled onward and came to the train bridge on the canal. We parked in a dirt lot and walked to the stream. The stars hung so low their reflections dipped into the river and the blackness carried their light South. The cigars were ignited and TD demonstrated proper technique wen smoking; even when smoking three cigars at once! Pictures were snapped and then some more pictures were captured. And then we all sat on a fence and broke the top log. Then we took pictures of that.

Yah,

that was the night the cigars smoldered down to nothing and were thrown into the brackish water. Due to our need for gazebo, we crossed the grass by the canal and tossed a football around the darkness. A solitary lamp illuminated the entire park, making the ball hard to see, and therefore, difficult to catch. At this point, Natalie declared that she was going to sleep in the car because she had to work in the morning. Amanda answered with one of the best compliments I’ve ever received. She said, “ you came with Ethan and you expected to sleep?” I laughed and thanked her immensely for the compliment. Sincerely.

Yah,

that was the night Natalie slept in the back seat of my car while Tyler, Amanda and I crossed the street to go to a bar. We walked in to the sound of a middle aged woman moaning karaoke and pool cues smashing the triangle. One of the men playing billiards had an amazingly long beard and smoked like a poet. The rest of the customers were bikers or Brasilians, but the three of us were the youngest by far. We sat down at a table with dirty dishes left on it, waited awkwardly for a few minutes, and walked out. The three of us returned to Natalie in the car, trying to be quiet enough not to wake her, but we failed. Pretty badly. So much life still resided in us.

Yah,

that was the night Natalie, Tyler, Amanda, and I drove home from the canal. I drove slowly just to make the night last. I coined my term ‘acoustic conversation.’ I softly played some reflective music just above the hum of the Jetta’s engine, allowing the three conscious occupants to fall head over heels into some deep conversation. We talked about love; about life; about our futures; about love again. Time was lost. Then a sign was posted on the side of the road: “Scenic Overlook Ahead.” I slowed the car down and pulled over at the turn off. Amanda, TD, and I got out and tried to see what we could see, but in the blackness, we could not overlook much. There was simply a large rock on the side of the road which we climbed on; snapped pictures on; and laughed at. Due to Natalie’s insistence on returning home to sleep, we got back in the car and headed on our way. Amanda, Tyler, and I discussed where we would sleep. Tyler was already planning on sleeping at my house because he was out so late. Reluctantly, I drove to Amanda’s house to return her home. It was a swift goodbye, with promise of a reunion the following day. Hope is always a good thing. Always.

Yah,

that was the night Tyler and I drove to Natalie’s front door to return her safely home. She said her groggy goodnights and we departed, now just the two of us, to Arlette’s house. Tyler and I could read each other. We read something beautiful that night. It was happiness, pure. The basest form of joy known to man. We drove to my rented room, ecstatic and energetic, despite the extremely late hour, and agreed that everything, yes everything, was right with the world at that moment. There was no fault to be found in it. That moment was ecstasy. We were on Route 28 when this moment occurred, passing by the White Hen Pantry. It was great.

Yah,

that was the night we returned back at Arlette’s home in Hyannis and ascended the staircase. While I was debating internally where TD should sleep, he piped up, “Well…it is a queen sized bed.” I smiled huge and deemed it appropriate for us to share the bed. We got ready for sleep and went to bed, laughing and talking even later into the night. I cannot remember for sure, but we likely laughed ourselves to sleep that night. Then we woke up at six thirty the next day. So tired.

Yah,

that was the morning we agreed to meet Amanda at the racquetball court the next morning. We met up and played some, but ended up lying on the the hardwood floors because we were so tired. I had to go to class, but Amanda and Tyler agreed to wait for me in the parking lot so we could skate after my class. The enthusiasm was lacking that of the night before. I reluctantly appeared to my class for twenty minutes, the largest waste of time in recent history. When I returned to the vehicles, Amanda had gone home and Tyler was waiting for me to take him home. The morning after. The magic is never perfectly recreated. Only the memory of the night of May 5th, 2010 can serve as magic enough for the evidence of life; the evidence of love; the evidence that some nights are worth waiting a lifetime for.

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