a day for us

She walks across the parking lot like the sun comes over the mountains. She’s my best friend so I know exactly how long it will take her to reach my car. l keep the doors locked until the second before she grabs the handle. I’m not afraid, it’s noon and that means there’s nothing to be afraid of. I think maybe she’ll want to go get some lunch and I think about how breakfast feels like forever ago. She sits down in the passenger seat and puts the several bags of things she always seems to be carrying down by her feet. She’s always wearing flats. She smiles at me in the way a single thirty-five-year-old looks at a baby. I don’t mind though. I blink slowly and put the car in drive, asking if she’s hungry. She says she could go for a sandwich and I pull out of the parking lot. She’s telling me all kinds of stories and I’m trying so hard to pay attention. It’s not that she’s boring or that I can’t focus, it’s just that I’ve missed her and I focus on her little mannerisms. I’ve known them for years know and it’s nice to see them again. She pauses to tell me that I look different and that she loves my dress then jumps back into her stories. Being around her is like wearing a soft sweater in the house. It’s comforting to drive her around town, like I have since junior year. We get to the restaurant we like and order food and then it’s my turn to tell stories. She likes my stories and it’s nice not to worry about boring her. When she’s finished with her sandwich and I still haven’t started mine it’s her turn again. We couldn’t possibly finish telling all our stories in one day but we tell a good deal so that we can feel caught up with each other’s life.

After lunch we go back to my house and act like lazy bears who have the gift of speech and live in a house. I get bored of all the sitting so we go swimming then make some cookies. She wants to show me a bunch of video projects she did for school so she does and I watch. We’re being selfish with our time and deny the invites of dinner with my family and dinner with some other friends. We get a pizza and eat it in my car and talk about boys like you have to when you’re eating pizza in a car. We laugh like children and gossip like old women in all the movies. When we’re tired she borrows some pajamas from me and we lay down to tell more stories in the dark. There are certain stories we’ve been saving for the dark. We stay up too late and know that we’ll wake up late and she’ll have to call her mom and tell her she’s going to come home later than she expected. But her mom doesn’t really care. Her mom knows that this is how it is when she hangs out with me. We’re best friends and we go to sleep like the setting sun.

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