The wind carried the sparks off into the dark sky, teaming up with the smoke to take a moment of brilliance away from the stars. The six of us lay on the ground, he with his head on the sand, I with my mine on his chest, and for the moment we weren't worried about the grains of sand seeping into our socks and waistbands. We stared reverently as the silhouette of the bonfire shivered against the night, glowing like a spotlight on a dark stage. I changed the grip on my beer and shifted my weight to my elbow, eager to see everything the evening had to offer: the way the waves took turns giving us a new look at the moon, the glow of the horizon inviting our thoughts to dream with a little more risk.
"We need a soundtrack."
Cue headlights, someone's fingers fumbling over the dashboard, and an Atmosphere song making its way around the windshield of the Jeep. Our feet jumped across and dug into the cooling sand, our arms swinging without direction. I could feel his eyes follow me as the shadows from the bonfire made shapes on my face. It wasn't the first night of obscured lines of friendship, and it wouldn't be the last, but it was always contained in day-lengths, encased in memories not spoken of, just replayed like the best verse of a forgotten song, almost as good as we remember it to be.
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