Last Wednesday night at two thirty in the morning the four of us drove home from dancing. Our ears were ringing from the the pounding music and the swirling of the heat made us drowsy. Julie dozed with her head on the backseat headrest and I rested my forehead on the window, staring at the crescent moon that made a halo on the clouds. Heidi drove in silence, flipping off her brights when we passed a stray car. Bethany sucked on a Marlboro and sang along with Jack’s Mannequin.
I told them all, “For the rest of my life, every time I hear this song I’ll think of this moment.”
Four girls in a car at two thirty in the morning. Just us and the moon. Just us, the moon, and the road. Going home to sleep.
But I’ll keep the moment in a shoebox under my bed, like the circle-yes-or-no love note from a seventh-grade sweetheart. Because you don’t throw away innocence.
“This night’s a perfect shade of dark blue.”