I was drunk. You were drunk. We were walking, swaying next to each other, barely holding our sanity.
"Let's take a cab," you said. I smiled at you, giggling like a little girl. Your face was too red. But I stopped when I caught sight of an empty bench next to a lonely lamppost on the sidewalk. I pulled your arm, without another word, dragging you with me as I sat us together on the seat.
A MEMORY BEFORE WE BECAME ADULTS
"Let's take a rest first," I told you. My voice swirled with intoxication and coyness. You shook your head playfully at me, naturally displaying those irresistible dimples. I resisted the urge to reach up and pinch your cheek. So I took a deep breath instead, staring up at the night sky. There were no stars, but the wind was cold, so it felt totally right. Your warmt
