No Matter How Close We Are

We are trouble. My friends and I. You'd think that since we live in the middle of no where, down south, that we would have nothing to do. But oh, we find stuff to do. Some of it, I am not proud of. But when you're bored there's little you won't try at least once. And like any group of friends we have our hang out spot. The old drive-in theatre. It closed back in the early nineties. It's been ours ever since. When we were little we would ride our bikes down to the playground right next to it. It still looked like a playground back then. None of kids play there now. Just us and we love to play. We like to lose track of time, and forget the boundries. When kisses melt to be something more. And friendships grow to be more than that. Now we drive there in our cars and blast our music. We fade to where ever we want. We can hang out with people if we don't want to be alone, or we can find someone to be alone with. In the deep summer daisey dukes are the norm along with mid-drift shirts for the girls. If or when guys wore shirts they were plain tight t-shirts. In our group no one was out of shape. We were all hard working, a few of us worked on farms others worked for the local moving company, or at the diner. Or we played a sport. In the end no one was hard to look at. Sure there were a few girls with some extra weight and some guys too but they wore it well. It became them in a way being thin couldn't. This was the kind of group where every one had a southern twang, drawl, accent whatever you want to call it. Most girls had long hair, so did the guys now that I think about it, or it was cut to military standards to appease the older stricter generation. Our parents acted as their parents had even though when they were our age they were worse than we were. Our ancient teachers still tell fantastic stories about the stunts our parents pulled. We had the town wrapped around our little finger. But the question was always for how long. We were careless. We loved life and we were a family. Our small group in our small town was a family. Our ties stronger with eachother than they were with our own blood. Blood it seems is not thicker than water. We played football in the cool days of fall, we had bonfires in the chilly days of winter, in spring we would stay home for reasons still unknown. In the summer we were rarely apart. Our lives were in our own little world and were just ready for it to shatter because nothing that good could last forever. No matter how close we are.