We'll Always Need Summer

That afternoon, my mom yelled my name and said you called to let us know you were coming to California. That day was the day I knew you were going to be mine. I remember grabbing my guitar and my notebook and running to the door, yelling to my mom I was going to be back at night. I ran to the car and drove all the way to that red bridge where we met five years ago. Tourist with big black cameras and little children with hats was all I saw. I left the car, my guitar in one hand and the notebook in the other. I walked between all the people walking at the same time and sat on a column, the water almost touching me and the bridge completely visible.

You were coming in two days, mom said. You had made a little secret with your family but I guess you couldn’t resist, and neither could your mom.

I sat there, watching the water moving in a continuous motion. We walked down this sidewalk beside me that day and we stumbled across each other. You helped me pick up the book I carried and I helped you pick the skateboard you carried. A few minutes later I knew your name was Thomas and you liked skateboarding while watching the water. We talked for five hours and we exchanged numbers. When I called my mom to pick me up you were long gone and believe me, you wouldn’t had wanted to stay to hear her long talk about how I was not old enough to be out this late.

You called me three days later and boy was I excited. You invited me to the movies the upcoming Saturday and after that, we were best friends. Three years later, when my eighteenth birthday came, we went on a road trip around the states. When we got home you told me you were moving to Kentucky with your mom. Devastated was not enough for how I felt. Three days before that you kissed me, told me you liked me. But now, you were leaving me here to go with your mom. I hated you, Thomas. One year later, after talking atleast twice every month on Skype I knew it was not the same. You told me you never stopped liking me. You said you loved me but you were too far away.

That night, I came to this same place and grabbed my notebook. Watching the water, I wrote a song about the way you make me feel.

But today, I did just the same. I watched the water and the tourist and the cars going through the bridge and all I could think of was the way you make me feel.

__________________________∞

“London! The Rogers are here!”

My stomach did an unlikeable turn as I heard the words my mom yelled. I looked at myself in the mirror for what felt like the millionth time and smoothed my dress again. I walked down the stairs slowly, moving my head from left to right and looking for a glimpse of your green eyes and your almost orange hair. Then I saw it, I saw you. You wore a peach button up shirt and black pants. You looked more handsome than what I remembered.

You were talking to my mom and you couldn’t see me, but as soon as I reached the kitchen door frame your head moved and we made eye contact.

You ran to me and hugged me. I did not expect this reaction from you. You were not the shy guy who covered his emotions anymore. You hugged me tight and placed a kiss on the back of my neck only me and you noticed. We turned around and you placed an arm around my waist.

“Excuse me, Linda. I know we just got here but,” you said. “May I steal your daughter for an hour or two?”

My mom looked at yours, they both smiled. “Of course, dear. Just bring her without any bites, okay?” They both laughed.

I stood there, feeling shyer than ever. As you pulled me to the door all that went through my head was the song I wrote two years ago.

I can’t stop digging the way you make me feel.

In silence, you drove to the red bridge. You stopped the car and looked at me and I could feel your gaze biting my face but I didn’t dare steal a glance at you. You got out of the car and showed your face through the window. “Get out, London.”

We spent three hours there and we spoke barely five words to each other. This summer day when you showed up at my door and you took me here, to our spot, you said you missed me and I could only reply with a me too.

I felt stupid… I did. Then you turned around and said you were staying. You were really staying and then you said you received every letter I sent you but you never replied or mentioned them because you wanted to see if I really cared and if I continued. You said your mom told you that if a guy cried for a girl, he really loved her. You pulled me closer and while the tourist walked around us you whispered to my ear.

“I cried for you, London.”

I sighed happily, “Do you have your guitar?”

You pulled away and looked at me, rather oddly. “I am just thinking about how hot it is and you ask me if I brought my guitar?”

I nodded rapidly, my neck cracking in the process. I turned and ran between all those people and to the car. I opened the backseat and there, lying nicely was your guitar. The same one you had when you left. I could feel your presence behind me but I didn’t care. I grabbed the guitar and turned around, walking past you and positioning myself in the exact middle of the sidewalk. People looked at me rudely but like I said, I didn’t care.

I searched for you, for your hair and for your confused look. I looked directly into your eyes and started singing like nothing else mattered. Like the only ones right now, in the middle of the sidewalk in this sunny summer day, were you and me.

“I think of yesterday, and all the times I spent being lonely. I watched the young being young while all the singers sung about the way I felt,” I sang in the best voice I could come up with.

Your eyes looked bright everytime you turned your head towards the sun and smiled that cheeky smile of yours. I felt I was melting.

“The days are here again. When all the lights go down, what do they show me? The rules are all the same. It's just a different game to tell you how I feel.”

The tourist walking rapidly around me were slowly coming to a stop, turning to me and taking their sunglasses off.

“Although it seems so rare, I was always there,” I breathed. “Oh, oh. I can't stop digging the way you make me feel. Oh, oh. I can't stop digging the way. Oh, oh. I can't stop digging the way you make me feel.”

I played the guitar like I did all the time I got your face plastered in my mind for forever. I played it like it was the last thing I would do, like if at any second you would turn around and leave me there.

“I took a little time scripting all the things that I tell you. I'll send them through the mail and if all goes well, it’d be a day or two.”

I looked at the water. “I spent some extra nights trying to forget the things that I've shown you. By now the smoke is cleared and all along I feared it would turn out this way.”

“Though it might be wrong, my light is always on,” I saw you walking towards me, but I continued singing. You needed to hear this. “Look at us now. Ask me, how did this get so. I'll tell you how I’ve dragged my shoes on the ground. But I'm taking em' all and I'm ready to walk, yeah.”

You stood right in front of me. Your look was penetrating but you couldn’t deny the smile that was forming on your lips. “Oh, oh. I can't stop digging the way you make me feel. Oh, oh. I can't stop digging the way. Oh, oh. I can't stop digging the way you make me feel, yeah. I can't stop digging the way you make me feel.”

I finished slowly and I heard claps from all the people surrounding us. Some were taking pictures with their still black cameras and older couples just looking at us, mesmerized.

You grabbed the guitar from my hands and layed it down on the hot floor. Your hands surrounded my hips and you pulled me closer to you, our noses were touching. Your lips made their way to mine and I cried. I cried for all the time we were apart. I cried for the first summer we spent together. I cried for the summer of the road trip. But mostly, I cried for this summer. As we stood there, we kissed and we got applauded. I sang my heart out and I got your love. I got your love today and tomorrow and the day after that. God bless summer.