Silver Lined Hearts

gatorade cap

past~ present

~~~

My fingers fumble with a small, plastic disk. They pinch at it and pull out a shockingly orange cap. A gatorade cap. Gatorade was Memphis' favorite. But this cap was special. I remeber it, so so clearly.

"Hey," Memphis said, laughing," super-Nova."

I glance over at him. His dimples are deeply engraved, matching his wide smile. "What do you want, idiot?"

"I'm thirsty."

"For my dick."

"Obviously."

"Wait– what?"

"I want your dick so bad. Like that invisible wee-wee might just quench my thirst."

My mouth hung open. "You're crazy," I said, as a giggle forced its way through my lips. "And did you just say wee-wee?"

"So, let's sneak into the Nurse's Tent and steal the gatorade." His smile doubled, if that was even possible, and the prospect of sneaking into the tent lit up a spark in his eyes I'd never seen.

I had known him for five days now. Five days since the party. And I was at his job. A small camp for children on a gorgeously tamed piece of property in the middle of nowhere.

"Fine."

The sleeves of one of his sweatshirts were tugged over my wrists, as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. I burried my head in his chest to suppress the giggling fit I was currently having. Memphis was shockingly cool. We stepped up to the door of the Nurse, and he knocked respectfully, before stepping in. The painted white door had chipped spots everywhere, and the wood was splintering all along the bottom. The office was dim, and cramped. A scratchy carpet adorned the floor, covering the linoleum beneath it.

"Hey Jody," Memphis said, greeting the nurse. "My super-Nova needs some," his voice lowered to an eerily quiet tone," lady things."

My face paled– or blushed, I couldn't really tell. They kind old woman shot me a sympathetic glance, and just gestured us to the upstairs room. 

We climbed up the stairs, hand in hand, and walked straight past where the 'lady things' were. The dull room was adorned with a wretched green carpet, white walls– turned beige by who knows what, and a cot with holes in it and some awful orange stain. It was a sad sight. There were worn brown cabinets, most likely filled with baindaids, anti-biotic cream and tissues. Shoved underneath a mound of unkempt papers, and wedged between a door and a dangerously lop-sided coat rack was a stark, white minifridge.

I had only been here once, the first day, when a purpling bruise adorned my face, and Jody offered to give me an ice pack. "Behind those awkwardly white doors," Memphis mumbled into my ear, his warm breath tickling the inside of my ear, his mouth lightly brushing over my neck," is about fifty gatorades. And let me tell you, those suckers of sugary goodness are my heroin."

His obsession with gatorade was so severe, I would almost call it unhealthy. Today, as we left his house, his parents broke the news to him delicately. There was no more gatorade. To say he's been unpleasant since that bit of news entered his mind is an understatement. He's been downright moody. One second he's giggling like an eight year old girl, and the next he's bitching about how unfair it is that the seven year old that just walked by had a gatorade and he didn't.

I tapped my foot impatiently as he crept over to the small ice-box. He rolls the remaining five feet. He buries his head inside of the fridge, and all you hear is him going "Not you. Definitely not you. Ahah! Wait, just kidding."

Suddenly, he rolls backwards, kicking the door closed with his foot. "I got it!" he cheered, parading around the depressing room with a bright red bottle of Gatorade in his hand. Perspiration was already forming on it's previously chilled outside, and it dripped off the bottle and onto the floor.

"How do yo plan on sneaking that past Jody?" I asked, smirking a little bit. His smile faded a little, and the sparkle in his blue eyes. 

"We need to be ninja-spies!"

"What?" I asked, walking a little closer to his fidgeting form.

"We need to sneak by, so when we walk downstairs you distract Jody, and I'll sneak out."

"Fine." It was the least I could do. Even though I had grown overly fond of this strange boy, I was greatly indebted to him for stepping in. But there was just one thing he can't know. He can't know about tonight.

We came back down the stairs, and as he stealthily snuck towards the exit, I walked right up to Jody and said in a voice just above a whisper, "He's sneaking out because he took a Gatorade but he doesn't want to tell you."

The lady's face crinkles as a laugh escapes her lips. I, myself, burst out laughing as Memphis glances back, his dark hair flopping adorably. He has red rimming his mouth, remnants of the red drink, as he tosses the bottle in the garbage. 

"Super-Nova! You blew your cover! Now we know why you aren't a spy."

I felt my stomach flip over as he shot his thousand-watt smile my way, with his dimples and the one tooth that was helplessly crooked, looking very out of place with the rest of his super-model teeth. My heart soared, and a weight lifted off of my chest.

This was like when I first started falling for Dylan, warm and fuzzy like a puppy, yet I don't think that it'll end up the same. Maybe Memphis can teach me how to love in this strange new way.

an: i know it's been forever, but i haven't been able to write. this is a heaping pile of shit, but i thought i should update anyway, because I miss memphis and nova.