Her.

She’s eighteen years old,

and she’s in love.

 

Him.

He’s twenty-one years old,

and he’s got his own place.

 

Them.

They go out on a Friday night,

he drives her to an Italian restaurant

               and she’s so excited.

 

Dinner.

Spaghetti and meatballs,

with parmesan and breadsticks

               and he pays.

 

Goodnight.

The car pulls up to the sidewalk edge,

she fidgets, picking at her fingernails

               he kisses her cheek.

 

The Next Morning.

She gets a text,

Good Morning, Beautiful

               her heart flutters.

 

Coffee Date.

He orders an espresso;

she a chai tea.

               He forgets his wallet and apologizes

                                                                           profusely.

 

Apartment B.

She knocks on the door,

and he yells, “Come in!”

               His room is messy, but she calls it

                                                                           “lived-in.”

 

Movie-Night.

He plays with her hair,

and she falls asleep in his arms.

               There’s popcorn on the floor.

                              But he doesn’t move until she wakes up on her own.

                                             And everything is perfect.

 

They’ve been together for two months.

Smirnoff.

He has a shot of vodka,

               Come on, try it. It’ll burn, but it’s not bad.

She refuses,

               I’ll stick with water, babe.

 

Advil.

She wakes up in his bed,

and he’s beside her, snoring.

She plays with his hair;

he wakes with a headache.

 

Text Message.

He hears a buzz,

but it’s not from his phone.

It’s from hers.

 

Question.

She’s finishing breakfast.

He scuffles in, and asks,

               Why are you texting Ben?

 

Confusion.

He has her phone in his hand

and an angry frown on his face.

She doesn’t understand, and tells him,

               We are in the same English group.

               We have to write a skit together.

 

Distraction.

She opens the fridge for the milk,

walking right past him.

He grabs her waist, and

kisses her. Tells her

               I love you so much.

 

Relief.

He feels her relax into him,

and waits for the reply.

She breathes deep, pauses,

and replies,

               I love you, too.

 

Late Night.

She’s out late

at the library.

She’s with Cassie

and

               Ben.

 

Interrogation.

He hears her car pull in.

The clock reads: 11:30.

               Where have you been?

he says.

 

Exasperation.

She drops her bag on the floor.

This is getting ridiculous.

               At the library, working on a project,

she tells him.

 

Accusation.

With Ben?

he asks.

 

Exhaustion.

And Cassie, yes.

she replies.

 

Anger.

I don’t like you hanging out with that guy.

She asks him why.

               Because I love you, and I don’t want anyone to

               get in the way of us.

 

Sacrifice.

What do you want me to do?

He tells her,

               Don’t talk to him anymore. I have a bad feeling.

               And Cassie isn’t a good person either.

 

Password.

She gives him her phone.

               When did you put a password on this?

he asks.

She shrugs.

 

Rage.

He grabs her wrist,

squeezes.

               You’re hurting me!

she tries to pull away.

               Why are you acting like this?

He lets go,

               apologizes profusely,

                              Because I love you so much.

                              You make me do crazy things.