remembering new years, December 31st 2007
Your family, you, and I went to your family friend’s house. Your mom made the best mini meatballs. I had like 15.
We snuck off to your minivan at some point. Some kids from the party were practicing their ripstiks in the cul de sac. I’d assumed they’d gotten them for christmas; they were pretty popular that year.
We observed behind your tinted windows, but once again retreated to the secrecy of the leather seats. We played “wouldn’t it be nice” on repeat.