cool kids

vi.

music was pumping through your car's stereo. it was around 3 pm and you, i, and three other sat in your white convertible with beach toys and duffel bags sticking out of your tied-down trunk.

the sun made our skin glow and while the wind blew through our hair. one of the girls in the back was going on and on about some new boy band the music industry managed to crank out this week but i was too distracted to listen.

my hand had lay inside of yours making that same warm feeling spread throughout my body. you were tracing circles on its side where my thumb and forefinger connected and we stayed like this until we got to our destination.

now i think that in some way, shape and form i get what the saying meant:

❝it's not the destination that counts. its how you get there.❞

because i don't care where you could be driving me. as long as it's you and me (and preferably just us) together.