Always The Love Songs

The third Saturday of every month was dedicated to us. It was dedicated to every kid who had ever attended Irvington high school. Everyone was invited, without ever receiving an invitation. You just knew you could come, and you would. At least once.

**

Every time that third Saturday rolled around, I would fill up my gas tank and ready myself for the ride out to the beach. The first few times I had went, my friends had come with me. They had long thrown away going regularly, only following behind me once or twice a year. That did not stop me from going on my own. Nothing could.

I always left around five thirty in the afternoon, with my full tank of gas and my bag. Inside of it were only a few things: a beach towel and a blanket. With those two things, I could be on my way and on the road.

Our place was always clean. No one ever brought alcohol, or drugs, or a bad attitude along with them. We only towed ourselves, clad in our blue jeans and bathing suits, ready for the inevitable. The water was salty, the air was cool, the sky was dark. After those adventures, the fire was alive, we were all toasty, and our voices were loud.

Someone always brought their guitar, and if by chance someone didn't we had our hands to clap with. Ambitious groups of girls would attempt to sing and we would listen, before they would break off in fits of laughter, unable to finish what they had started. Sometimes there would be soloists who were simply holding our attention for a few moments. We never laughed, we never poked fun at anyone else- we were good sports.

Like I was always present, he always sang. Every night that I was there (and I never missed, ever) he would sing. It didn't take three years of listening to him belt lyrics for me to notice the pattern. He only sang love songs. Some days they were from country artists, or soul, or even indie- despite the varying genres, they were always love songs. Always. It didn't bother me, or anyone else for that matter. He was entertainment- so much better than the others who had made attempts. His voice was pure and low, the words flowing from his mouth with what seemed to be no effort.

The night I asked him about it, it was November, and the chill from the water had drove a lot of the other kids home. There were still a few of us left, wrapped in our blankets and buried in the sand. He said he only sang songs he believed in, when I asked.

"If I don't do anything extraordinary or significant in my life, I want to fall in love. I'm ready for it to happen- I know its easy. I just need to let it occur. I need to believe in all of the songs." I shook my head, and he smiled, continuing. "Why would everyone waste all those words about it, if it weren't real? No one is that creative. No one is so creative that they can think up love and start a trend about it. Its real, and I'm going to find it."

He didn't blush. He didn't stumble over his words. He wasn't embarrassed. He was bound and determined to fall in love. At the time, I thought him to be the most stupid and smartest boy alive. He couldn't be serious, could he? My thoughts drifted away, though, because he had opened his mouth again, allowing another ridiculous song flow from his lips.

**

It was so insane. I had thought him to be so silly, so foolish, but I had ended up proving myself just as foolish as him. I told him this. He laughed, mouthing off the words to a song quickly and easily. Something about love, and how foolish you felt as you fell deeper into it. I could not contain myself now, I rolled my eyes at this.

He simply laughed and kissed my temple, completely unaffected as I insulted a part of his being. I did this often, especially on those Saturday nights when we fled to the beach. The seconds when he came back to me, beckoning for his half of the blanket we shared after belting his heart out for two minutes or so. I would place my critique's in front of us, which looked like the breaking line of our relationship to anyone else. You would think he would be upset, but he was not. You think that I wanted him to be upset, as I continued to throw in my two-cents,but you would be wrong.

I wanted him to know, and he wanted to fall in love. We had accomplished both, feeling more and more accomplished every time we stepped away from that spot. Our spot. The spot for all Irvington High kids.