she smiles, takes my hand. her mouth moves but i can't hear over the ringing in my ears. i feel like i'm floating. all of a sudden, we're running, laughing, breathing hard; i ask her why. she points out her language arts teacher behind us, on a bench, smoking a cigarette. she tells me about the work she forgot to turn in.
i ask where we're going. her eyes widen and she shakes her head. no, she says. it's a secret.
so we run, and i don't ordinarily like to run, but right now, it seems like the best thing i could do. every bone in my body wants to be close to her, and it doesn't matter that i'm wearing a short sleeve shirt and the wind is turning my cheeks red, because god, this is paris, and i'm holding hands and running through the streets with the prettiest girl i've ever seen and life feels like a dream.
we run for a few minutes, or an hour, or a sunlit eternity. and soon we've arrived. gardens. the gardens of luxembourg, i read off a signpost. i turn to her. there's laughter in her eyes. i told you i live in the best city in the world. i agree with her. a city with a girl like this in it must be perfect.
and it happens so quickly i don't have time to think before her lips are touching mine and the world is spinning so fast i feel dizzy. she breaks away, smiling, and we're back to running, jumping over dogs and waving to people and ripping up grass. she shows me the gardens and her special tree and the fountains.
later, she makes us a crepe with nutella and marshmallows and shows me to her room, at the top of this gorgeous parisian building. she holds a finger to her lips and opens a window in the roof, unraveling rope ladder attached. c'mon. paris is even more beautiful from high up.
she's right. the sun sets the eiffel tower on fire as we watch, and when she turns to kiss me she tastes like marshmallows. paris is beautiful, sure, but it doesn't compare to her.
here you can read the actual best day of my life, which i still get so happy i think i'm going to explode when i think about it.