Saturday night and I’m a bit tipsy.

It’s just me and her. All our friends went home.

Each night I try to stay out as long as possible. I don’t want to go home.

Parkside, sitting on the wooden bench with my girlfriend. We’ve been going out with each other for a year.

Across the street from Lefrak. As I look up at the tall apartment building I wonder what it would be like to live there. I love the balcony each apartment has; I’m sure it’s a great view. They even have a doorman in the lobby.

Totem Pole from Mike Larkin

It’s close to midnight.

We usually end up like this on the weekends.

I love when we’re alone.

Just her and I, no one else.

Matter of fact, I look forward to the end of the night. Like I said, I like staying out late.

It’s cold but we’re sitting next to each. We call it, “body-heat.”

I can sit here on this bench all night long with her but I know she has to get home soon. And I hate it when she says, “I gotta go home.”

Her parents get mad when she stays out late. Especially if they know she’s with me. You guessed it, they don’t like me. Oh well, nothing I can do about that.

What I hear next shocks the shit out of me.

“I love you,” she whispers.


“I love you stupid,” she says again.

“You what?”

Without answering she gets up and starts to walk away.

“Where you going?” I ask as she heads into the park.

I get up, jump up on the park wall and hop onto the grass climbing up over the hill.

She begins to jog. Her long legs covered by her tight jeans. She’s wearing brown, Little Abner boots.

I give chase.

About twenty yards up on Hippie Hill I catch up to her and wrap my arms around her, we kiss.

Now I feel like I am on top of the world. What more can I ask for? She’s a great kisser.

I’m 15, she’s 17 and she’s the best looking girl in our group. Our group is big. Lots of girls.

Her arms wrapped around my neck, my arms around her slim waist. When we kiss, she closes her eyes, I keep mine open.

After what seemed like an hour, we break the kiss. It’s always me that breaks the kiss too. First time I kissed her, I had no idea what I was doing.

No one ever taught me how to kiss.

She looks into my eyes.

“I love you,” she says once again.

Like an idiot I don’t know what to say.

She’s never told me that she loves me.

I go to kiss her, she pulls away.

“What?” I ask her.

“Do you love me?” she asks.

Again, silence.

Shit, I have no idea what to say.

I think to myself, I think I love her?

“Do you respect me?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I answer slowly.

She starts to walk down Hippie Hill towards the path which leads to the monument.

“Where you going?” I shout.


Her pace picks up as she crosses the circle towards 16th street.

I follow her and catch up right outside the Parkhill restaurant.

“Wait,” I say as I grab her hand.

“Let go,” she cries as she smacks my hand away.

She breaks away, crosses 16th street on her way towards Windsor Place.

I stop walking after her.

She hangs a right down Windsor Place.

I look over at Farrell’s and see a few guys through the front window drinking at the bar.

Should I chase after her?

Should I apologize?

Better yet, I should tell her I love her too.

“Fuck it, I’m going home.”

Before I do, I walk across ninth avenue. An empty bus zooms by and the driver honks his horn. I open the front door at Farrell’s and shout, “KNICKS WIN TONIGHT?”

Duffer is behind the stick.

“NAH, THEY LOST BY TEN,” he says.

Damn it they suck.

I close the door and head home.


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