"Stay the night?"
She threw a pillow at me.
"No, shit.. I can sleep on the floor and you on the bunk."
I frowned.
"That wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me, would it?"
Kennedy shrugs.
"Fine, I don't care. Just don't expect it to be comfy."
Night hasn't quite appeared yet, and the stars haven't quite smeared silver over black canvas.
I sit on the floor next to Daniel's bunk.
He's playing with dinosaurs.
There's no real table, just a counter top as long as my arm attached to the tiny chest of drawers. She says she can't afford takeout, so cooking is the only option when you buy it cheap.
Kennedy tried her best for dinner.
"I stole some pots and pans from our old kitchen," she says, pulling a small pot from under the stove.
She pours pasta into it and begins stirring sauce around the mixture.
The aroma filled the tiny space as the pasta cooked.
Our eyes locked.
Tell her you love her again
Tell her you want no one else
But staying the night isn't the same as stargazing with her, alone.
And as I tell this, my hands shake at the memory.
I can remember.
I've just been trying to connect myself to whatever oblivion she dwells in.
I can remember.
But she can't.
YOU ARE READING
Mentions Of Kennedy
RandomIt was like he blinked and then she was gone. He took her for granted; only noticed the shadow in the schoolyard when it was too late. She is. She was. She simply spat fire and gazed at him with piercing eyes. Would he be too late? Only you would kn...
