Leopold & Loeb: Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb, two well-educated 19-year-olds from upper-class Chicago families, caused a scandal when they were tried and convicted of the 1924 murder of Bobby Franks.
***
I sprawl on the ground indelicately as I wait. For what, exactly, I'm not sure. Anything to save me from an afternoon with Leah while she rants about babies. I like her better when I'm not actually with her. Or when she's distracted by a boy; those are good times.
"She's forty-one, why the hell does she want more kids? She already has me and the loser." The loser, otherwise known as her older brother Felix.
I nod, blithely. "Does she still want you to name them?"
"Yeah. I was thinking Thing 1 and Thing 2." I roll my eyes.
"What about Leopold and Loeb? Or Nathan and Richard?" They fascinate me, even if they were nineteen in nineteen-twenty-four.
"That's cool, I'll do that." She takes her iPhone out of the front pocket of her see-through white blouse to text her mother. She works at the Olive Garden, but I can't see why she's allowed to wear tediously sheer shirts every night. Well, every Friday and Saturday night.
I look down at my iPod and connect to the park's wifi. Our city is really cool because they have free wifi for every public area, as well as restaurants and cafés. You don't even need a phone.
Adrian messaged me: remind me why i agreed to lunch with my father?
I reply: because you secretly love him, even if he had an affair with a cocktail waitress.
He writes back immediately: he's such an ass. Can I see you later? Wanna come over?
I smile, secretly. He lives in a large high-rise apartment with his mother and thoroughly adorable sister. I was there once last week and was positive he would kiss me... but he didn't. Maybe tonight is the night
"Who are you texting?" Leah asks as I reply: okay :) see you at 7
"Nobody." I tell her.
"Whatever," she waves it away. "My mom says sure to the names." I snort and look across the grass at the couple sitting on a picnic table (on, not at) with a guitar. He strums easily and watches her with adoration.
They're playing the pick-up game of you say a line, I say a line, and playing G-major over and over again.
He laughs at her words and attractive lines appear around his mouth. He looks like someone who smiles a lot, like Adrian. He wears a blue plaid shirt over skinny jeans, and her dress is black and slinky, and her heels stick in the grass because they're like expensively attractive toothpicks.
I love the couples who look so incompatible they are perfect for each other.
"Grace, are you listening? I was just getting to the best part."
