suburbs // luke hemmings short story

july

   His birthday was July 16th, and mine July 22nd. 

 On his birthday I went over to his house to have dinner with his parents. They asked me lots of questions, about what I liked to do and who I wanted to be. I had no idea, so I just made stuff up. They seemed to like me.

 Afterwards, he led me towards the living room,  where a piano sat. A large piano, one that you could tell costs lots of money. He skimmed his rough hands over the keys, and I sat next to him and asked if he played. He said he did, and he played a song right there. I didn't know what to do so I listened in silence, pretending I knew enough about music to think it was amazing. 

On mine we made a shitty cake together in my kitchen, my parents watching from the table and laughing at how silly we were. They were overjoyed to see me spending time with a boy, and seemed to like Luke too. 

That night we went out to the hill by my house, lying on the wet grass, not caring how soaked our clothes got, under a dark blanket of stars. We talked about when we were younger. I loved to hear about all of his memories, and to see him smile faintly, just thinking about simpler times. I let him kiss me roughly, for the first time, and his hands ran over my body and under my shirt.