You leaned over the center console of your '98 Corolla and offered me a cigarette. You didn't know that I don't smoke but I took it anyways. To be polite. I lit it with your lighter and took a drag, releasing the smoke out the passenger side window. It remained stagnant in the mid morning air as we flew past.  You wouldn't remember that but the cigarette burn on the passenger seat would.

As you drove around the block toward the park on Main and 4th, you put your hand on my leg and squeezed. Looking at me you smiled, a cigarette dangling out of the corner of your mouth. You leaned over and kissed my neck before turning back toward the road and realizing you missed the light. I giggled at you as you made an illegal U-turn. You wouldn't remember that but the crumpled traffic ticket on the dashboard of your car would.

You parked on the side of the empty street by the playground and flicked your cigarette out of the open window. I followed suit and you saw me shiver, rolling up your window. You leaned toward me and asked if I wanted to get in the back seat. I absentmindedly nodded my head and climbed in the back seat with you following close behind. We sat next to each other and laughed at the silence. Then you were kissing me, hard and full on the mouth as if I would never see you again. For a second, I lost my mind. I got overzealous and grabbed at your shirt. You wouldn't remember that but the tear in your favorite red plaid button-down would.
Eventually, I found myself on top of you, your hands around my waist. Your legs fell asleep and you wanted to switch positions. I tried to move left but you moved left as well and I lost my grip on the seat and fell back, knocking over a half empty bottle of beer. You wouldn't remember that but the smell of cheap alcohol soaked into the floor would.

One thing had led to another as it always did and I didn't know what the hell I was doing but I made it seem like I did. Or at least I thought I did. There was an entanglement of legs and arms but somehow it was still very fluid, our bodies knew how to move in conjunction with each other; it was natural. We were enough to put my nerves at ease and allow me to relax. You were always good at that, getting me to relax and just let go, something no one else could do. You wouldn't remember that but my skin cells under your fingernails would. 

You had said it was getting hot and asked to take a walk in the park. Halfway between your car and the monkey bars, you took my hand and held onto it. I turned my head so you wouldn't see me smile. We reached the playground and I climbed up the ladder to ride down the slide. You caught me at the bottom and kissed my lips. You wouldn't remember that but the cherry Chapstick smeared across my face would.
We laid underneath the swings and watched the stars, holding hands. Then you tried to build a sand castle in the sandbox but without water, it just fell apart. Finally, you gave up and tried to bury me. You wouldn't remember that but the sand in my shoes would.

Around 4 am, you drove me the seven blocks home and dropped me off down the street from my house. Just in case. I got out of your car smelling like you: cigarettes and Old Spice cologne. I walked down the street and opened the front door, shutting it again behind me. I tip-toed back into my room and laid on my bed, shoes and all, thinking about you. Your lips against mine, your hands on me, your laugh. It was all so exhilarating. I never knew what falling in love felt like and I think I still don't but that night was the closest I ever came. You wouldn't know that but I do and I always will.