"Catch me if you can!" Slipping through the beach rocks with the ocean wind cooling the sweat on my forehead and the view of black long hair whipping in the wind in front of me, I take her challenge and run. Although there's a good chance I could slip on these rocks and land straight on my ass or even worst my face, but with her I don't care. In this moment I know one day I will marry this girl. I'm glued to her, there's nothing that could pull me out of this 1975 music video. You know the one where the slow heavenly melodies sinking into your mind like a ray of sunlight through clouds just after a good rain, everything plays in slow motion, black and gray but somehow it makes you smile and want to press replay. Yeah, that kind.
Reaching my arms out a playful scream comes out followed by laughter that is so infectious you have to be deaf not to laugh with her. After catching our breath we lay. Like breathless psychos that just ran about 3 miles in 15 degree weather, under a forecast that screams rain.
"She had a face straight outta magazine, God only knows but you'll never leave her," She rolls over with her jumper ruffled and wet. The song she never stops playing refreshes my memory from our first car ride. Nervous jitters coursing through our bodies afraid of being caught driving without a license at 12 o'clock at night to the beach. Only to snap out of it when the song comes on and she starts to sing. I try to sit up but I'm pinned under a hundred and ten pounds of band loving girl. As easy as it is to pick her up, I know not to as regret will eat me up later.
"Her balaclava is starting to chafe, And when she gets his gun he's begging, "Babe, stay, stay, stay, stay, stay."" Her smile brightens and I playfully roll my eyes and she nudges me in the side with her knee. "Sing with me ... please." She starts over and she get's to the chorus and I let go of my bottom lip before it bleeds.
"I'll give you one more time, we'll give you one more fight, said one more line will I know you" We sit up and she sits in my lap as we turn to the slow sun set singing loud and carefree to Robbers by The 1975.
"Now if you never shoot, you'll never know, And if you never eat, you'll never grow, You've got a pretty kind of dirty face, And when she's leaving your home she's begging you, "Stay, stay, stay, stay, stay."" She intertwines her fingers with mine and lift them with hers into the air and moves like a little kid pretending to be a plane. Word for word without music to keep us in beat we sing. We sing.
"I'll give you one more time, We'll give you one more fight, Said one more line, Be a riot, cause I know you" I look down to her and smile as she lets the wind blow her hair back and her eyes stay closed.
"Well, now that you've got your gun It's much harder now the police have come, Now I'll shoot him if it's what you ask, But if you just take off your mask You find out everything's gone wrong Now everybody's dead And they're driving past my old school He's got his gun, he's got his suit on She says, "Babe, you look so cool, you look so cool, you look so cool, cool, cool, cool You look so cool, you look so cool, you look so cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.""
She sets her hand on my lap and leans back against my chest. I lay my head on the top of hers. "Don't forget me okay." She says through the silence and I sit up straighter.
"How do you know I'll get through? I could be right back here next week doing the usual." She moves and turns around with the frown that makes me smirk with humor. She hits my chest and cups my face.
"Zayn Malik I swear on my grave if you are back here in a week I will personally drag your arse back to camp and make you sing till they have to put you through." She stands and starts walking up the slippery rocky slope.
Same ol' bossy girl I know and probably never forget. This is what got me through boot camp, knowing that if I just hang in there one more week this will all be worth more than I will ever know. I try my best to catch up to her and whip her around when we reach normal grounds. Tears hold their guards in her eyes and she looks everywhere else but me. "Hey, look at me." My hand slides under her chin and her light brown eyes lock with mine and with my thumb I catch the first tear. "Now in my 10 years of friendship with the Miss Evangeline Sane I know she doesn't cry for anything." She presses herself into me without warning. Her warm embrace erases the cold air around me. I wonder if one day I'll get the nerve to tell her really how much i love her, more than she thinks i already do. I don't just want to be her best friend anymore, I want more.
