sodapop!

-tssssssssss-

a metallic hiss released a rapture of artificial orange refreshment, a light precipitation of high-fructose corn syrup drizzled against our unblemished hands. glorified nectar boiled over, an over-flow of marigold bubbles harmonized with the melodic meeps of multi-colored birds and the vocal bliss of pure adolescence.

a billowing blanket of green neatly swaddled the youth who inhabited it. occupied underneath the shelter of shade, the same preppy girls gossiped and overlooked the entire school. the usual boys progressed in their daily soccer games, the same game that always resulted in an intense exchange. close friends aimlessly walked the perimeter of the field, avoiding the baked black-top. and, estranged from their colleagues, two boys picked shards of grass from its roots — just him and i.

our meager bodies leaned against the peeled trunk of the sycamore tree, its tangled branches protected us from the fervor of the so-cal sun. yet somehow, slight golden rays of light leaked through its branches, leaving us sunkissed post-recess. the fluorescent orange can settled itself against the sole of his velcro shoes, its eye-catching logo angled in my direction.

crush!

his arm, adorned in an array of multi-colored sillybandz, extended outward towards the crisp concoction of tangerine. his fire-engine red lips pressed against the borders of the metallic can, a refreshed “ahhh” followed. his delight in the drink inspired me to follow in his lead: my lips, coated in cherry chapstick, stained its corners.

the first sip of orange soda – a crisp and bubbly saccharine stream of citrusy delight. carbonated fizz that tickled the tips of the tongue. a candied cascade that cured our thirst. i swished the essence within the confines of my mouth, “ahhhh” i mocked his expression of delight, a guileless giggle followed.

the condensation of the crisp-cold can saturated our palms – i wiped mine upon the freshly-manicured emerald pikes we sat upon and he wiped his on the fabric of my khaki cargo shorts. a display of grenadine-hued blush colored my cheeks as our fingertips barely touched behind our backs.

i looked up at him doe-eyed yet his eyes, those that resembled blue-colored rockcandy, curiously studied the activities presented to us. the same activities that were once a backdrop to us, now garnered his curiosity. my eyelashes batted at him like wings of a butterfly and yet, his attention diverted with each kick of the dark-red bouncy ball. the combative cheers of overzealous nine and ten year olds carried to our corner, a tremor that vibrated the crisp confines of the can.

“are you upset because of what savannah s. said? because, y’know, we really shouldn’t listen to savannah s, because khloe with a k told me that she still sleeps with her mom and dad. so we shouldn’t listen to her,” i filled the void in the air, endlessly rambling as i anxiously picked freshly bloomed flowers.

“and gay means happy, so she’s just mad we’re happy. either way, savvanah s. is a real,” i looked around and lowered my tone, “a b-i-t-c-h!”

despite the use of an unexpected expletive, he shared no interest in the conversation — or i for that manner. as if the games of footsie underneath our desks or the mutual exchange of our packed cold-lunch meant nothing. his sky-blue irises bounced back-and-forth, following the bouncy ball.

i reached for the can and sipped. the passion of  late-spring warmed the once succulent soda, the metallic rim slightly warmed my pursed lips. the can’s dull dew deluged into my mouth, its acidity more apparent than before. the soda bubbled inside me, an overboil of liquid that proceeded a scrunched nose and pursued lips.

“y’know, ricky. savannah s was right,” he broke his silence and our fingertips began to part.

“about what?” i asked.

“this, you and i. this is gay! you’re gay! i don’t wanna to be that, i don’t wanna be like you —” his shaky tone paused, he mustered the courage to turn towards me. our eyes embraced, then quickly broke away.

“i-i, i don’t want to be your friend, anymore” he blurted out.

then abruptly, a bold-red ball spiraled in our direction. nearly-deflated rubber bounced off my Adventure Time graphic-tee and onto the can. the contents of the can rolled like magma beneath me, as i sat with the breath knocked out of my frail body. the clamor of cruel childish laughter traveled across the field and a voice asked for the ball to be kicked in return.

He retrieved the ball and kicked it across the field lacklusterally. rather than return to his rest beneath the sycamore tree, he rushed towards the boys. a thick sole of memory foam compressed itself against the can. and just like that, there went my crush.

-crussshhhhhh!-