East Coast/West Coast

Dead tired and it’s Tuesday.

The girl I typically hash with on Tuesday nights wasn’t able to make it to dinner, so I cleaned dishes with my favorite sophomore boy on the team. He’s also from Long Island, is really quiet, and took the trek upstate with me. At another Christmas party, he got really drunk and we talked about boys and the different sorts of relationships. Illuminating. 

Clean up was easy for once; we finished fifteen minutes earlier than usual. We hoarded the fruit that was for dessert and stood at the metal counter, eating cup after cup of blueberries and blackberries and raspberries and strawberries, laughing at bets we’ve made and talking about racing.

It was a nice thing.