bros
they wasted days because it felt like they were to spare.
but the days during the summer were never that much longer. yuri slept less too, running on the leftovers of tiffany's energy drinks. she'd always try to align her mouth over the lipstick mark tiffany would leave on the rim of the can. it was just a game to play.
tiffany was someone yuri had to get used to. she had to remind herself to never take what tiffany said too seriously, and to pay more attention to the absurd.
there was a spot behind the old campus of the town's local college that bridged their overwhelming city to a glimpse of the country. on a clear day, if you squinted really hard and the sun was behind you, you could see a brown barn and a cow, sometimes 2, if you were lucky.
the first time tiffany brought them there, yuri couldn't truly appreciate it. she didn't even truly appreciate tiffany at that point either. it'd only been a few months after her parents’ death and she was jumping through stages of grief not at all like the outlined steps, and rather like they were landmines, catapulting her to emotional lows and highs on a daily basis. tiffany still wasn't special then, because yuri didn't see it. so that first time is a bit of a fog, quite literally, partly due to the weed tiffany smoked and subsequently coughed throughout. that wasn't lost on yuri. tiffany was on a level of cool that preempted assumptions that she could take 15 second bong hits without the slightest discomfort, make rings and write your name with the smoke. yea. those were the levels of rumors surrounding tiffany. on the days yuri's attention averaged anything above a 5, she observed tiffany's admirers, the boys, the girls, some of the teachers, gazing at tiffany with mixtures of lust, envy, and awe. not that it ever really hit deep enough for yuri to care at that point. she was still floating, and certain like anything good in her life, it'd be temporary.
as much as she kept her expectations low, the better she felt, the more she began to treasure every and any opportunity she'd get with tiffany. whether it was a gas station stop at 2 am when tiffany's munchies would finally hit, or a brief encounter at the line to the bathroom at a party yuri would drag herself to just so her high school experience wasn't a complete waste. never mind that she hated every moment of it; no one would talk to the kid with the dead parents or they would talk to her and her dead parents would be the only thing they could bring up. it began to be the reason she sought tiffany's company. tiffany rarely brought up the accident, the past, the future, or anything meaningful really.
"okay, choose. waking up with roadkill breath every morning, or being unable to control your burps."
yuri squints at the sun, going through a list of pros and cons for both.
"am i burping everyday, or randomly?"
"totally random. you might burp in the safe space of your home, or in the middle of a heated debate about whether there are actual benefits to eating fruits and vegetables."
"tiffany, who would debate that? of course there are benefits to eating fruits and vegetables."
tiffany wags her legs back and forth on the grass and yuri watches the sun's light over them, up and down, up and down.
"i'm not convinced yet."
yuri ponders it, and lets the sun warm her face even further. "it's too much of a risk. i'd rather be prepared. i choose roadkill breath."
"even if it's everyday?"
"yea... i'm predictable."
yuri worries about how lame tiffany must think she is, because tiffany is never predictable. never boring.
"good choice. i'm not a morning person anyway."
yuri's face burns more than just from the sun, until she chastises herself that tiffany didn't even mean it that way. or maybe she did. but that's just tiffany.
"what do you think, could you handle roadkill breath from me in the mornings?"
tiffany's leaning in, conspiratorially, smiling against her shoulder, purely and quietly, without the noise of societal demands. yuri noticed that too. she noticed tiffany's performance, however graceful and effortless it may have been, she was honored tiffany took off the mask in her presence.
yuri looks away because she can feel i love you creeping up her throat, and however sincere it may be, yuri doesn't want to deal with its consequences. she does, though, realize something--it's the first time she's even thought of connecting love to anyone since her parents' death. and she doesn't mean it in the dumb, mooney, high school crush way tiffany's probably heard millions of times before. she doesn't want to be reduced to that.
"god no, i can barely stand your post redbull binge morning breath. roadkill would knock me out."
tiffany gives her a perfect smile and stares at her a little longer than what is comfortable, at least for yuri, because tiffany doesn't skip a beat and raises her hand and thumbs yuri's cheek like it's something she's always done. it feels so natural, and even expected.
"sunburnt already."
tiffany's fingers linger and this time yuri doesn't dare move, eyes afixed and pleading, doing the work her mouth and hands don't have the courage to do. but then tiffany's hand drops and she's getting up, brushing nonexistent debris off her legs and then crossing her arms, hiding her hands.
"come on, i'm hungry. i need a mcflurry right now or i'll die."
yuri gets up and starts following tiffany back to the car. "you know, the more you use those kind of extremes, the less effective it becomes."
tiffany pauses long enough to hook an arm around yuri's neck and yuri has to bend her head down just a bit because tiffany is shorter but she doesn't mind at all.
"i'm absolutely serious when i say it though." tiffany almost sounds hurt so yuri makes a mental note that tiffany is fond of talking in hyperboles. "now, let's hurry up. i feel the cold hands of death already."
they're sitting at a stop light, tiffany's hand draped over the steering wheel, the other arm hanging over the side of the open window and yuri understands the appeal. because tiffany could have practically anything, anyone. and when she chose you, it was wickedly addicting.