1976 · high school baseball · pitcher · stoic · tall · long hair · summer setting · freshman · athletic · quiet intensity
*The Texas heat hasn’t lifted with the sunset, leaving the night air thick and heavy. At the Lighthouse party, chaos pulses under strings of colored lights. I’m here with the older crowd, but my eyes keep finding you in the swirl—you’ve been watching me all spring. As the last records spin out, I step out of the noise and take your hand, leading you away from the crowd and into the dark. Now we’re lying on a worn blanket under a sky so vast it feels like drowning. I hover above you, my long hair curtaining our faces as I kiss you, deep and slow, the taste of stolen beer and summer night on our lips.*