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Summerboy

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We pedaled our bikes up the steepest street in the world to the deli, me laughing at a joke He just said. My white tank top fitted everything, my jean shorts too short, my converse tied tight, flipping my very long dark hair over my shoulder. The city smelled very good like Coca-Cola mixed with cement while my music played so loud from my little radio attached to my bike that everyone could hear it. Letting them know I was there.
“Wake up! It’s the fourth of July!” He yelled.

My heart grew bigger and pulsed harder because that day was filled with so many activities to do. A Giants game, food, sun, illegal fireworks, and my best friend to enjoy it all with.
Plus, my secret “way-too-old-boyfriend” as my parents called him. I wanted to enjoy every moment of that day because I knew I would be missing it during the winter. We pulled up to the deli and honked my tiny, annoying little horn. Old Man yelled at me saying it was too early. I love Old Man. He was so cute and funny, I would never forget him. Me and Him laughed, Old Man just shook his butcher knife at us. Old Man always told me I was trouble and that He just added to it. But when we walked into the deli, Old Man could see the bright blue, red, and white stars in our eyes. Old Man could see our smiles over-stuffing our mouths. In Old Man’s eyes I could tell he loved us as much as he hated us. Old Man told us we should go to the water since it was going to be hot. We said no. The water today made me think of dirt and cows, something we weren’t. I told Old Man, streets, sun, beer, people, baseball, fireworks. I pointed to Him. That’s what I wanted today to be about.

Old Man brought up my secret “way-too-old-boyfriend”. Inside I rolled my eyes at the talk, but on the outside I mumbled something so love-struck the red, blue, and white stars turned into beating red hearts. He was silent. I felt bad for Him. But Old Man and I sent a message to each other. I let Old Man know that I only truly loved him.

When we left, we rode our bikes up the steepest street in the world even more, my long straight hair flying behind me.
“I want your short, curly hair back.” He said. He didn’t like change, unless I talked him into it. We passed by people, girls that were better than me, but he looked the other way. To know that He loved me no matter what made me want say “awwww” and give a sad, but thankful pout. And to know that I abused his love sometimes…

Change. We’re at the baseball game. Our favorite pitcher pitching. We’re surrounded by friends and my cousins. I can’t stop laughing, but my eyes are on the game. We sneak some beer. I don’t like beer but the sun makes everything better. We yell and feel like adults, cool ones though. For a moment He is distracted and is in the game. Oh how He loves the game of baseball. He’ll be a major leaguer one day. A legend. He is so cute and dorky, the way he smiles at everything. His baby-face, well I hope it never changes, the same with those green eyes. The ones that I envy so much, but I wouldn’t want to see them on anyone else
“You’re my Summerboy, you know that right?” I ask.
“And you’re my Summergirl.” He says, then smiles cause’ he thinks he’s funny.
We laugh. He leans closer, He then points to something on the field and I smile. Little tiny tears come to my eyes because I don’t want this moment to be over.

Night. Night. Night.
Fireworks. We make bombs. We get into trouble but don’t listen. The block is filled. We laugh at everything and it’s great. We sneak some more alcohol, but don’t drink a lot. Colors fly everywhere and I cough on Firework smoke. We make even more explosions, but before we even know it, the tiny local liquor store is crazy. We’re waved off by a pack of yelling kids who are running down the street. They’re right. The fire hydrant is showering water and I get a little wet. The store’s windows are broken and the alarm is going off. The store is vacant on the inside besides other random kids grabbing as much as they can before the sound of police sirens come. We grab fireworks, more fireworks, and matches. Some steal booze and cigarettes. He takes candy bars for us. Innocent Summerboy.

We run back. The air is warm and I like it. I instantly wish my hair was short and curly again. It would be more original, for my memories. Maybe tomorrow I would go over His house with a pair of scissors. We’d stand in front of His bathroom mirror and watch the hair fall. We’d recognize me again and His green eyes would get big.

Change. I laugh and smile at the fireworks. I’m being pulled away by a mysterious hand. I’m inside the house again, which I haven’t been in since this morning. It’s quiet, and it’s only one color inside, it’s normal. I don’t like normal. My secret “way-too-old-boyfriend” shows his face. I fall in love all over again. My mind says that I don’t want Him. I want my secret “way-too-old-boyfriend”. The colored friendship stars turn into fat bulging hearts. I love “way-too-old-boyfriend” and I know he loves me. There’s no doubt in my mind that “way-to-old-boyfriend” doesn’t love me. After thumping red hearts, “way-too-old-boyfriend” says he has to go. Walking out the door, “way-too-old-boyfriend” doesn’t say “I love you.”

Change. Illegal fireworks are in the black sky. My colored friendship stars panic because they are in desperate need of Him. Insecure, lost lied to; once again I’m abusing His love.
I find and run to Him. He lies on grass looking up towards to the colorful sky. He looks and smiles as I lay down and I know those green eyes forgive me. He starts to talk again about what’s in the sky. I smile because I know tomorrow when I cut my hair He’ll be so happy. And those red, thumping hearts well, I hate them. Where I was, with Him, I wanted to keep forever. The big glorious fireworks came right then. There was a silence and awe from the beauty they gave in the sky. I looked at Him for a moment, the looked back up. He was definitely my Summerboy for forever and ever. I never wanted to hurt him again. How could I? A smile that felt like no other came across my face as colors exploded across the sky. I’ve got my summer-summerboy. And we’ll still have the summer after all.





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