They were to meet at the fountain that day and when she didn't show, he thought, "Well, I guess there's more than one fountain."

Seems like forever now but everything feels like that eventually.

And so for the longest while, when coming across the odd fountain here and there, he would let his mind trick his eyes and together they would linger.

Just in case.

“That cancer is one sarcastic bitch, yeah?” He knows when she’s nervous. She says things she wouldn’t normally say.

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess.”

“So what are you thankful for?” He knows when she’s nervous. She asks things she wouldn’t normally ask.

“You,” he says. “I guess.”

She looks away. He knows when she’s nervous. She does things she wouldn’t normally do.

“Dance?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess.”

Remember the first time you did that one thing?

Remember how it seemed like what you wanted to do for the rest of your life?

Then the rest of your life happened.

Remember that?

I always hated how he never trimmed his strings.

“You worry about the wrong shit,” he used to say.

Maybe.

We still argue about this and I’m still right.

You need to pay attention to your strings if you’re going to stay in tune.

I bought chicken from the little red-headed girl who gets so terribly nervous when I’m around.

I couldn’t think of the word for “wing” straight away and just sort of pointed at objects until she figured out what I wanted.

Now I’m the creepy guy who also maybe doesn’t know quite how to talk about chicken.