What Memories are Made of

It was relatively dark in the ice-skating rink, and the multi-colored lights did little to alleviate it. The ice sent a certain breathless chill through me, cool and crisp and exhilarating.

The pants I was wearing felt strange after months of skirts and tights, and I felt slightly self-conscious, even though I knew I looked great - I'd been getting glances all night.

There's a blond in a blue shirt that's been particularly appreciative, and I'm the first to admit the feeling was moh-tual.

Gia was standing next to her ex near the plexiglass barrier, looking small in contrast to his hulking darkness, talking to Mr. Blue Shirt.

This was my opportunity for an intro.

I glided to a stop, and his gaze made a direct transition to me.

He looked even better up close.

~*~

I didn't think he was too terribly interesting at first - just another sophomoric sophomore male.

That is always a mistake. People are invariably more interesting than they initially appear to be.

I was struggling to hook the chairs together, my blue dress gaping slightly at the front and my tights beginning to slide from gravity's persistent tug. It was late and my feet hurt, and these chairs were not cooperating with me!

"Here," he said, pulling back the cushion on the adjacent chair, looming into my line of vision. "Let me help you."

~*~

It had been your standard English class - sleepy, but half-hysterical. I did not feel anything remarkable - not even relief- at the ten o'clock bell.

Tamora, however, was practically bouncing.

"How was your weekend?" I asked as we bled into the hallway.

"Crazy!" she exclaimed. "Nicholas asked me to the prom."

"Wait... the North Ford prom?"

"Yeah, " she replied, side-stepping an anonymous student. "And I met this awesome guy-"

A shoulder met mine, and I glanced over in surprise. Collin. I could only see his profile, his strong nose and curly blond hair, but it was the first time I'd ever seen him in school.

"Good morning, ladies," he drawled.

"Well, I can't very well talk about you if you're right there," Tamora huffed, faking exasperation.

His shoulder stayed solidly connected to mine.

~*~

There are so many more I could describe, distill down to their most powerful emotion. However, they all have to do with how I feel with people. I love people, like breathing and sass and sarcasm, the knowledge that a smile is a more precious gift than biblical frankincense and myrrh combined, and all the more so for its frequency. Power, confidence, laughter, and orange energy - these are what memories are made of.