Meanwhile in a beach house down the Cape...
Not quite a sequel to this, but takes place in the same universe. I'm not done with these people.
Maria was telling Frankie about the time she and Doug went up to the roof of the athletic building at Belmont College and watched the sun set. As she was telling the story she thought maybe she shouldn't be talking about this story, talking about how in love she and Doug had been, and possibly still were. They never really brought up the subject since their awkward exchange a few days ago after climbing off the roof. Maria assumed that since she was still officially Doug's girlfriend Frankie just accepted that she still loved him, that out of the both of them he had the biggest risk of being used. She never liked to think about this kind of thing for too long.
She had never started living in the moment so intensely until she started being unfaithful.
Different roof, different boy, same sun. The light was of a different quality, however. A little more like honey in color and consistency, a little more determined to permeate the air and work itself into your skin. They sat on Doug's roof for all the reasons you'd ever want to touch the sky, and the world turned golden around them. When she and Frankie pressed their arms together, the pinkness of his skin and the tan of hers were gone, replaced by the gilt of sunlight, like they were carved out of the same mountainside.
Doug was downstairs; they could hear the guitar licks from an open window. Whether he knew they were up here together or not, they didn't know, nor did they care. Doug was a trusting guy to boot, especially when it came to what he (even soberly) confessed were his two favorite people in the world. It wasn't that Maria and Frankie wanted to play their boy for a fool. It was just that they were, in fact, doing just that. Doug could leave Maria at the rowdiest frat house ever and he wouldn't be worried. And he hadn't had to worry, once upon a time.
Not gonna think about it, Maria thought to herself.
Frankie sat between Maria's legs and since they were on a slope, she could easily rest her head on his shoulder. They stared at the horizon cheek-to-cheek and talked in whispers, facing each other occasionally for a kiss. Maria was quietly moved by how the curves of their bodies seem to fit like jigsaw pieces, chest against back, arm around arm. She used to say to Doug, "I love how our bodies fit so well," but, she reckoned, it seems like every body fits well with any other. Eternal happiness would seem then to come not from destiny, but choice.
Maria was telling Frankie about the time she and Doug went up to the roof of the athletic building at Belmont College and watched the sun set. As she was telling the story she thought maybe she shouldn't be talking about this story, talking about how in love she and Doug had been, and possibly still were. They never really brought up the subject since their awkward exchange a few days ago after climbing off the roof. Maria assumed that since she was still officially Doug's girlfriend Frankie just accepted that she still loved him, that out of the both of them he had the biggest risk of being used. She never liked to think about this kind of thing for too long.
She had never started living in the moment so intensely until she started being unfaithful.
Different roof, different boy, same sun. The light was of a different quality, however. A little more like honey in color and consistency, a little more determined to permeate the air and work itself into your skin. They sat on Doug's roof for all the reasons you'd ever want to touch the sky, and the world turned golden around them. When she and Frankie pressed their arms together, the pinkness of his skin and the tan of hers were gone, replaced by the gilt of sunlight, like they were carved out of the same mountainside.
Doug was downstairs; they could hear the guitar licks from an open window. Whether he knew they were up here together or not, they didn't know, nor did they care. Doug was a trusting guy to boot, especially when it came to what he (even soberly) confessed were his two favorite people in the world. It wasn't that Maria and Frankie wanted to play their boy for a fool. It was just that they were, in fact, doing just that. Doug could leave Maria at the rowdiest frat house ever and he wouldn't be worried. And he hadn't had to worry, once upon a time.
Not gonna think about it, Maria thought to herself.
Frankie sat between Maria's legs and since they were on a slope, she could easily rest her head on his shoulder. They stared at the horizon cheek-to-cheek and talked in whispers, facing each other occasionally for a kiss. Maria was quietly moved by how the curves of their bodies seem to fit like jigsaw pieces, chest against back, arm around arm. She used to say to Doug, "I love how our bodies fit so well," but, she reckoned, it seems like every body fits well with any other. Eternal happiness would seem then to come not from destiny, but choice.