I’m used to doing things on my own.

I have to make my own decisions.

I’m not used to having

someone looking out for me.

She looks me in the eyes.

I think about her mom.

I think about my father.

I think that maybe this

could be the end

of our friendship.

Please just forget about that, she says.

I look down.

She walks toward me slowly,

takes my hands.

I’m sorry, she whispers.

You’re looking for something, Ari,

but I don’t think it’s me.

What do you mean? I ask.

She looks me in the eyes, and this time I see her.

It can’t be me you’re looking for, Ari,

because I’m your true friend,

and I

am already

here.

The Kiss

She’s right.

Her words swirl in my gut.

In the movie of this,

I put my arm around her waist

and dip her backward

and kiss her into the sunset.

Instead I say, You’re right.

She laughs. She points to the waves,

to the trees, to the town

sinking slowly into twilight.

We rest in a truth that

only we know,

friendship built

out of difficult circumstances,

chance, something more.

She puts her arms

around her body,

and she looks toward the water.

Lisa laughs and uncrosses her arms.

She walks toward me,

then she touches my hair.

But so we aren’t curious forever …

She moves in closer,

holds my hands at first

then rests them low on her hips,

and her eyes overtake me.

I smell her breath and her soap,

her hair against my cheek.

Her lips are gravity,

and slowly they press to mine, so soft.

I don’t know how long it lasts,

but when it stops, I know she can read my body,

feel it every single way.

She pulls me tighter until I feel so close,

the deep press of something changed forever.

Her hands slide into mine.

Breathe.        Smile.

She turns, and we sit in the sand

and silently we watch

the sun go down.

We build a tiny wall

of sand between us,

just high enough

to be friends again.

Then

Did you know, I say,

that there are four places

in England and New Jersey

where fish and frogs rained

down from the sky?

No way! she says.

I draw maps in the sand

to make sure we don’t miss

any detail.

That Part, Right Before Falling Asleep

So tired,

we rest in the twilight

of the planting room.

We try to talk

about everything we can.

I still feel

the crush

on my heart,

but I know it’s changing.

We lay our mats back to back

and stare up at all the drawings.

Tell me more, she says,

about the pond and the elk.

Tell me how you feel

without the book.

Quiet

August has the warmest water,

the biggest waves.

We sit on the sand,

eating ham-and-cheese roll-ups.

I feel something