Twenty-six.

“I’ve never really felt like this before,” Madison told me. Her birthday had come and gone. The weekend was upon us. Our heads were touching. The grass was cold, but the sun above us was warm and lovely. Clouds wafted in front of it, but the heat burned right through them. March was kind to us: 68 degrees. We were taking the day off. Off doing. Off thinking. Off everything. What else was there to do when the weather was this nice?

“Whatcha mean?”

“I dunno.”

“Unencumbered?” I guessed.

“Dunno what that means,” she said.

“Like. Not weighed down.”

“Yeah, like that.”

The sky was so blue. I could only faintly hear the cars on the other side of the trees. The park was swarming with people, but we were high up on a hill and no one was around. We hadn't moved in so long. I could actually see the difference in where the sun was in the sky. Over there, then. Over here, now.

“Jamie?”

“Hm?”

“Why do you like me so much?”

It was an honest day. We were talking a lot. We just talked and said the right things. That’s all there was to today.

“I’ve told you before,” I said. “You’re interesting.”

“I don’t think so.”

“It’s interesting that you think that.”

We were quiet for another minute. I heard a kid down at the playground screaming. It felt like background noise. Like music in a movie.

“I think you’re interesting too,” Madison told me.

“Why do you think that?”

No emotion. No surprise. No curiosity. No drama or panic or anxiety or fear. Today was so serene, so blissful… our words were so light on our lips, our hearts were so gentle and obvious. We were as we were, in that moment.

“You like to read and edit stuff but you never write anything. And you’re really gentle sometimes, and then you’re really loud and pushy other times. And you’re so sincere about everything, like all that matters is being you. Like you’re all that matters.”

“I’m selfish?” I asked. I was, in a way, very selfish. But that wasn’t what Madison meant.

“No. You’re you. And that’s the least selfish thing you could ever be, because that means everybody around you gets you too.”

Oh.

“You really think I’m that great?” I asked.

“Don’t you?”

“Hardly.”

“Coulda fooled me,” she shrugged. I could feel her movements all around me. My hand found hers without any searching or wandering. I put it down on top of hers, like it was waiting for me. Like they were fated to touch. Fingers fated to find solace in the empty spaces. Together.

“Madison?”

“Hm?”

“I’ve never felt like this before either.”

“Cucumbered?” she guessed.

We both fell apart laughing, and when we finally put ourselves back together again, I could have sworn I was one piece short. A stolen piece I’d never get back.

“Jamie?” Madison said, when the world was quiet again and the sun wasn’t over here anymore. Now it was over there.

“Hm?”

“Remember what you said, when you said… in my room.”

Uh. Well… that was pretty damn vague. What I said in her room? I’d been saying a lot of things in her room lately, exponentially more than last week.

When I didn’t answer, Madison clarified: “You love me.”

“Oh, yeah, you remember that, huh?”

“Of course I do,” she pouted. I wasn’t even looking at her and I could hear the pout in her voice. I could envision her round, frustrated cheeks puffed out and her eyebrows pushed together above those curious, warm, milky brown eyes.

“What of it?” I asked.

“Well. You mean it, right?”

“Yep.” There was no point in lying now, was there? It had been said. And today was a simple, honest day. I couldn’t ruin that just because I was embarrassed.

“Well I love you too,” she said, and I just about exploded into stardust. Finally, I was motivated to sit up. After hours, hours, hours, of lying in the smushed down grass, I wasn’t anymore.

“You do?” Wow, her face was red. Maybe it was the way the sun arced through the trees, but I knew deep down that wasn’t it at all. She wouldn’t even look at me, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the rims of her glasses.

“Of course I do!” she huffed, and watching the real thing was so much better than anything I could imagine. A smile broke out across my face. Like the plague and Eastern Europe. It wouldn’t stop for anything.

Then a thought clouded my head. Maybe a bad thought, like how Madison had them. Like how they took a good thing and filled it in with darkness. Like the plague and Eastern Europe. It wouldn’t stop for anything.

Today was supposed to be a simple, honest day…

“Madison?”

“Hm?”

“I love you. But…”

Finally, she looked at me. She sat up. Was our simplicity ruined? Was the honesty gone now? No, not yet.

“It’s not just about taking care of you and figuring you out. You’re not like, a doll, or a puzzle to me. You’re so compassionate, and you shoulder so much. And you find the brightness in everything, and you find the darkness in everything. You show me so many things I didn’t even know were there. You’re an experience I always want to be experiencing.”

Madison nodded, like she was waiting for me to continue. So I continued. I followed through with honesty:

“So when I said I loved you, what I meant was… I really like you.”

“Isn’t that what it means?” she asked.

Ugh.

“No, I mean. I. Like. You.”

“I. Like. You. Too,” she said, mimicking my emphasis.

“Madison. Not like. Like like.” And now I was no better than Polly. I was officially a middle schooler.

“Yes,” Madison said flatly. “Like. Like like like.”

I swear, she was so annoying!

“Romantically, Madison! I like you romantically!”

“Yes I understand what you are saying! Why do you keep saying it?”

Wait, what?

“I. Like. You. Too,” she repeated.

The frustration in me boiled over and evaporated into butterflies. Every part of me warmed up and tipped upside down at the same time. And I would have thrown up, I bet, if I remembered how.

She liked me?

“Do we like, kiss or something?” Madison asked. “I’ve never kissed anyone, but this is when people do it in the movies.”

So, before I remembered what anxiety and nervousness and embarrassment were, before they all came rushing back - because they sure fucking would - I pushed my hand under her hair, behind her neck, and pulled her lips into mine. And well…

I never believed in magic. I never believed in fairy tale endings or falling in love at first sight. I never thought I’d see fireworks over the feeling of one person’s lips against my lips. But when I kissed Madison Bell, I felt something even better. Confidence. Because damnit, this girl was a really bad kisser.

So that was Saturday, the Saturday I kissed Madison Bell. And for a long time - a long, long, long time - I would think of that day on that hill, in that park, with the sun and the clouds and her, as the best day of my life.