Telescope

Sheep and Milkshakes

Benny

She tastes like lavender and honey and lightening and my heart is still pounding in my chest and I still can't stop smiling.

I think of this now as I look over at her, hair tucked behind her ears, her hand laced in mine as she swings it back and forth, back and forth. "Where are we going now?" She asked as we walked through the mist to my car. "Back?"

"Let's go on an adventure," I said, wiggling my eyebrows at her.

She laughed, nodding slowly. "Okay. So we need, like a goal."

"A goal?"

"Yeah, you can't go on an adventure without one, otherwise you're just, like, going for a drive. You need a quest, like find a strawberry milkshake and curly fries. Or get a stranger to draw you a picture of a sheep. You know, something that you have to complete."

"A picture of a sheep?" I laughed.

"Shut up. The point," She said, as we climbed in the car. "Is we need something. So what do you propose?"

I buckled my seat belt, looking in the mirror at my disheveled hair and flushed face. "I propose we go to the coast, but like, far away from here. Like, not the happy little beaches, I'm talking death drop cliffs and unswimmable oceans. So, work with that."

She twisted her earring, eyes ahead. Then she said, "Saltwater taffy. And curly fries, because I love them. But you need to come up with one too."

"Easy," I said, laughing. "Getting a stranger to draw us a sheep."

She shook her head, smiling at the quiet road as we pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the highway.

"Can we make a pit stop at my house? I want a hoodie that isn't soaked," I said, glancing over at her.

She was staring out the window, smiling, and her hair was falling messily over her shoulder. She looked back over at me and smiled. "Sure," She said. She leaned forward, looking up through the windshield as the sky rained down.

There was something captivating about the way she leaned forward, radiating sunlight, the very embodiment of summer waves and lemonade and strawberry milkshakes, staring up at this big, grey sky as though she saw something no one else could.

I looked around, past the blurry swipes of the windshield wipers and out to the dark, wet pavement, wet buildings and trees, bright stoplights, and grey sky. And that's all I saw. I looked in the mirror, saw my eyes and eyebrows and my slightly too long hair. I smiled at myself.

"What are you smiling about," Juno said, poking me in the shoulder.

I looked over at her. "Mhm, maybe the world's not such a bad place after all."

"Ha, sure," She said, sarcastically, but she was smiling.

"Do you like the rain?" I asked.

"Getting wet, no. But the sound it makes, yes," She said.

"Really?"

She let her head fall against the headrest. "No," she said. "I mean yes, but no. That's a movie quote, from my favorite ever movie. Couldn't help myself." She sighed, smiling. "I love the rain. The sound, how it feels, the smell. Everything about it."

I looked out at the sky and the rain and the way the water lept from the puddles and how the raindrops raced across the glass and I thought, shit, I'm, really, truly happy.

We pulled up at my house and I turned to look at Juno. "So," I said. "I should have warned you, but I didn't. And I could now, but where's the adventure in that?"