Talking Shit About a Pretty Sunset

It was an early spring morning; the sky was still dark and spotted with a few stars, turning pink just on the bottom edge of the horizon. I was still currently lying in bed looking out the window and letting my thoughts wander, bouncing from one thought to the next and sometimes back again. I knew I had to get going but the warm softness of my blankets had me in a firm grip I didn’t want to leave, even though I knew he was probably there already and getting impatient.

Patience was never one of his strong suits, but I loved him anyways.

I huffed as I kicked the blankets off and put my feet into slippers, not daring to let them touch the cold cement floor of the basement where my room was. I walked over to a small desk sitting in the corner of my room, littered with empty cigarette packs and butts, papers and books, and about twenty vanilla scented candles. I picked the lighter up and touched the burning tip to each one of the wicks, before placing a Marlboro Red between my lips and lighting the end of it.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Put lighter back in its place.

Exhale.

Walk to dresser.

I pulled out a relatively clean pair of jeans along with a plain black shirt. I slipped the clothes onto my body and went searching for a pair of socks, clean socks to be more precise. God I needed to do laundry, but that would have to wait for another day; we had a ritual him and I.

Every morning we would crawl out of bed before our parent woke and meet in the cemetery.

We both needed to get out and be our own separate beings from our families. Don’t get me wrong I love my family but I needed to be my own person too and to do that is difficult while your mother is breathing down your neck and as your father watches endless amounts for wrestling on TV, getting very good at ignoring you; unless of course you bring home bad grades or a fresh hickey on your neck, that he notices.

I slipped my beat up, stained Converse sneakers onto my feet and grabbed a hoodie, pocketing my smokes and lighter before going over to my desk and blowing out the candles one by one, leaving me in almost complete darkness except for the soft dull light filtering in through the window.

I crept up the stairs and out the backdoor not wanting to wake anyone, before running across the backyard and out the gate and down the alley, the only sound coming from the birds and the crunch of gravel under my shoes.

I always loved the walk to the cemetery no matter what time of day, but I especially loved it in the mornings. There was no one to bother you, hardly any cars to watch out for and you could not replace the serenity of it with anything.

I walked on the edge of the road hands resting inside the pocket of my hoodie, my head bent down looking at where the concrete met the greening grass, mixed with dead leaves and garbage people threw from their vehicles.

The cemetery was about a fifteen minute walk from my house, and when I saw the gates approaching I picked up my pace a bit, cursing myself for not getting up sooner. I walked through the gates and down the gravel path towards our spot; the one we found a few years earlier on one of our adolescent adventures.

It was tucked away on the edge of a small hill in the far corner of the lot, making you walk right through the headstones before having to navigate through the shrub fencing they had placed around the perimeter. There was a wide gap in the shrubs that showed the top of the hill, but nobody but us ever seemed to visit the place, so we dubbed it ours.

Our mothers had introduced us to one another when we entered kindergarten, ensuring us we would become “life-long friends.” Although I’m pretty sure I terrified him at first with my non-stop blabbering and endless slew of questions. But even then we did become friends for I never left him alone and was always following him around like a lost puppy, begging him to play house with me; it all happened in third grade when one recess I was getting picked on by one of the older boys, he shoved me and I fell into the slushy snow, getting the seat of my pants wet and freezing my bare hands. Then there he was yelling at the older boys and chasing them away before bending down picking me up from the ground. He helped me brush the snow from my hands and asked me if I wanted to help him make a snowman, I eagerly agreed and we ran off holding hands into the playground.

Everything since then is history, we were inseparable from that day on and he quickly became my best friend and later the boy I fell in love with. I know it sounds cliché but that is just how my life has panned out and I can honestly say I wouldn’t change it for anything.

I was now cutting through the cemetery making my way closer to the hill; the sun was already starting to peak out along the horizon. I came out from the side of the shrub and found him sitting there, cigarette pressed to his lips and an annoyed look on his face; I dug into my pocket and grabbed a smoke lighting it and making him turn to me from the sound of the lighter igniting.

“I almost didn’t think you would show up.”

He said, relief flooding his voice as I sat beside him in the grass.

“What do you mean? I always show up, I may be a little late but I do show.”

He smiled down at me, making my mouth turn up in a matching smirk.

“I know, I know.”

He let out an airy chuckle as he took a drag from his cigarette, flicking the ashes into the ground.

We smoked in silence for a moment, before I looked over at him studying his face.

He had a silver ring pierced in the left side of his lip and a matching one in the right side of his nose; he also had a scar beside his right eyebrow, courtesy of myself.

We had snuck out of our houses and got drunk at some party that was being thrown across town; we both had drank too much and were sitting on the back porch smoking cigarettes, laughing at each other, when I got too animated with my hands while telling a story and hit him in the face, while wearing a really big ring. He cursed and raised his hand to his face, all while we were both still laughing and when he removed it that’s when I saw the blood, leaking from a small but deep wound right above his nose. I shrieked and told him about the blood before running into the house and grabbing a cloth from the sink, wetting it with water before rushing back out to him on the porch. I cleaned the blood away from his face; all the while apologizing and giggling. When I had succeeded in cleaning all the blood away, we shared a cigarette. That was also the night we shared our first kiss. We were back to laughing about the fact I had impaled his face when the laughter died down and we were left staring into each other’s eyes. It got awkward fast and I looked down at my dirty shoes studying them before I felt him lift my chin so I was looking at him again. That’s when it happened; he leaned forward and closed the space between us and connecting our lips.

He nudged my shoulder and brought me from my thoughts.

“What are you thinking about?”

I shrugged my shoulders and looked out to see the sun was now casting oranges and yellows into the sky.

“You.”

I said smiling sheepishly and looking back over to him, he gave me his famous lopsided grin.

“Oh are you?”

I nodded.

“Yeah, about that time at the party when we first kissed.”

He wrapped an arm sound my shoulders and pulled me closer to him, leaning down and capturing my lips with his. It was like an electric current running through my body making me melt, and the world fade away. We pulled away and I rested my head on his shoulder, taking in the sunrise before us.

“Like that?”

He asked.

“Yeah, like that.”

We fell back into silence, as the sun fully rose above the houses and trees, bathing everything in a warm glow and waking the earth; birds were calling, and we could hear the rush of cars passing on the road just beyond the cemetery gates.

We smoked cigarettes and talked into the morning before getting up to stretch our muscles and start the walk home, back to our families. We walked hand in hand along the ditch before it turned into sidewalk, and when we came upon the place we both parted ways he turned to me and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in closer and tighter before releasing me.

“I’ll see you at school?”

He said his voice a low whisper.

“I’ll see you there.”

We kissed one last time before we walked in the direction of our houses, the sun now hanging low in the sky and the sound of a dog barking coming from down the street.

I kicked a rock as I went down the alley I had emerged from a couple hours before, making a right turn and walking a couple houses down coming to the gate for my backyard. I walked up the steps and opened the door, greeted by the smell of coffee and my mother sitting at the kitchen table. She looked up from the newspaper and took a sip of her coffee before acknowledging me.

“Out with Frank again?”

“Yeah we were at the cemetery.”

She gave me a small smile and turned the page of the paper as I went to the coffee pot and poured myself a cup.

“See? I told you, you two would be life-long friends.”

A smile came to my lips as I thought of him and how much he meant to me; yeah life-long friends sounds perfect to me.

Notes