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She smells a sweet scent of cardamom and basil, which fills my nose, relaxing me further than her words ever have. As my pencil works its way down her body, drawn on the paper, I can’t help but observe the way her hips sink deep towards the top where her torso meets her pelvis.

If I didn’t already believe in God, if anything—or anyone—were to make me a believer, it would be Drew’s body in the most intimate, yet innocent way. As if every groove on her body was meticulously made to be there by an overarching force of nature. Like she was created by God Himself.

How could someone have such intricate features that lay so perfectly aligned with each other, all on one body? I thought I had studied the anatomy of the human body to the fullest extent for my personal project, using my own as a reference, but after tonight, my studies don’t hold a candle in comparison to Drew's.

7

Drew

The first night at the cabin goes swimmingly. Given

Laine’s neat and composed nature, I expect her and I to both stay on our own sides of the bed, but to my surprise, she sleepsall over the place. I think she must have kicked me at least four times last night and starfished at least twice.

When she wakes up, her hair is a rat’s nest, and her voice is raspy, and as much as I’d like to say it’s not a good look for her, she somehow makes it oddly attractive.

The forecast for today is calling for rain all day, so the plan is to attack the mess of board games and playing cards in the living room as well as consume hours of stupid budget movies—the kind that are bad in all the best ways.

Turns out, Laine is awful at Giant Jenga. Who would have thought? A thin, lanky girl with delicate artist's hands struggles with carefully pulling pieces of wood from a careful and strategic stack. Though I have to admit, it is adorably hilarious watching her squeal when she senses the tower of giant wooden bricks impending and imminent collapse.

But what she lacks in motor dexterity, she makes up for in strategy card games. She has an impeccable poker face, which ends up winning her most of the potato chips we bet on during poker.

A day that was supposed to be our slow day flies fast as we make it fun in each other’s company.

A few rounds of Uno and two movies later, the rain clears up and our moms decide to go for a stroll along the water to walk off the pizza we ordered for dinner, leaving me and Laine alone to find another terribly made, tacky movie to end off the night.

“What are your thoughts on early 2000s Disney?” I ask Laine, hoping for a slightly higher budget but equally as cheesy production to go to sleep on.

“I’m cool with Disney. Although I haven’t seen many of the teenmovies, mostly just the classics.”

“Wait, you’re telling me you’ve never seen Camp Rock? Or Princess Protection Program?” I gawk at her in disbelief.

She offers an awkward chuckle, head bowed, fidgeting with the skin around her fingers. “I have not.”

“Oh my god, wehaveto have a Disney movie marathon.”

“Sounds good to me!”

“There are so many good teen Disney movies that became staples in my childhood. You have to watch all of them!” I hold my head high and shoot her a playful, cocky smile.

I’m not sure why, but suddenly I’m feeling excited to share a part of myself that I chose to bury, just like she had with her father. The only difference is that her reasoning was because of what her father did, and mine is because of everything my father didn’t do.

I’ve blocked out most of my childhood because I always told myself I would rather not remember at all than form long-lasting memories of missing someone. But now, right here on this stupidly cozy loveseat, I find myself wanting to dig up those repressed memories just so that I can share them with Laine.

******

The evening chills off, the air still moist, but the ground has mostly dried. Our moms came back tired from their walk and decided to call it a night, leaving Laine and me alone to entertain ourselves once again. We sit on the loveseat in silence, racking our brains for what to do for the rest of the night.

Just then, Laine springs up from her spot, leaving a butt groove in the memory foam cushion, which I take a beat to laugh at.

“I’m feeling a little bloated from the pizza. Why don’t we take a walk outside near the docks?” Laine rubs her stomach and nods toward the back screen door.

“But our moms are asleep. We’d have to wake them to let them know we’ve left.”

“Or… we could just leave?” A smirk travels across her face, her left foot tapping against the hardwood floor.

“What do you mean, just leave?”

“Like, I don’t know, sneak out or something?”