Early morning
You spend two hours making yourself look effortlessly pretty, even though we're gonna hike throughout the day and get all sweaty and gross. I spend a similar amount of time cleaning the empty water bottles from the floor of my car.
We meet in your city because fuck taking two cars, and because, instinctively, you know that you can trust me. We greet each other sweetly but don't linger - both of us politely pretending not to notice the other's butterflies. You nearly swoon at the sight of my 2006 family sedan. We leave your car there, in the empty parking lot of a Target just off the interstate, and head west as the sun starts to rise.
On our way, we agree to first get some food in a cute little town, nearby the park. You're relieved to find that I'm a good driver, and that I trust you to navigate. At one point, you tell me to go left instead of right but I'm not an asshole about it.
An hour later, we're walking along a colorful, busy main-street together. We hold hands through the crowds and intersections because it feels right, and also because it's too early for me to slap you hard on the face and spit in your mouth.
We sit down at a picnic bench to eat. The conversation comes freely and easily. The food is yummy. We spend a total of $20 between the both of us because responsible spending is sexy.
On the drive to the park, you start telling me about your favorite animes. I very transparently pretend to understand what you're talking about. You laugh at me. We manage to have a productive, engaging conversation about narrative techniques and honest story-telling all the same.
Once inside the park, I compliment you on your choice of footwear, then hand you the equivalent of half a dozen bottles of water. Then I tell you to walk in front of me on the trail so I can look at your butt (though I willingly take the lead whenever we strike off the main trail because I don't want you to step on any cacti).
It doesn't take long for you to notice me checking you out; you don't mind. I notice, too.
