Today I am fifteen. I met some boys with trucks and cars and freedom. I am awash with a feeling of utter awe. They turn me alive and interested. I am awake for the first time in my life. I don’t know what love is, but I feel sick inside. There is something about these boys that says they know things. Adult things, that I had no idea were even a possibility.
My favorite always drives barefoot and chain smokes. He has a terribly broken crooked nose and a rasp of a voice. A voice like he was gasping for his last breath every time he speaks. I think he was just born old, worn and tired. He’s only sixteen and smells like cigarettes, cologne and leather. He looks at me sideways, like he knows something. There is something just on the tip of his tongue that never seems to free itself. He smiles and cackles and looks away.
He loves the boy in the passenger seat with crystal blue eyes. I’ve never seen eyes so sparkling. They are like diamonds. Looking in his eyes is better than looking at the full moon. You cannot bear to look too long because your eyes fill up with tears. It hurts my heart to think of him. His eyelashes are onyx black and he always seems on the verge of tears. Yet he isn’t sad at all. He’s joyful and happy. He beams when we play his newest music discoveries and when he plays the drums.
Sad puppies are always attracted to the strongest of the pack. That blue eyed boy and I, we are the runts and we love standing behind the biggest barker of them all.
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