We laid on the gentle slope of a grassy hill, warmed by the summer night’s air and contentedness.
Georgia giggled softly and tugged on the string of my hoodie.
“Remember that one time we jumped the fence of my neighborhood pool? You were so scared. Big baby.”
She rolled onto her side to face me and smiled playfully. A gentle breeze tousled her hair, and she was a vision against the backdrop of the vast night sky. Georgia turned her eyes back toward the stars, still smiling.
“You were so worried we were going to get caught. You should have been more worried about your pants!” She started laughing, “I can’t believe they got caught on that fence! And you had to tell your mom that the rip was from a dog that chased you home from school. A dog.”
I grinned at her and stuck out my tongue.
“In my defense, I was a scrawny 13-year-old boy at the time, so the idea of me being chased by a dog was totally plausible.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah… but I will still never let you live that down,” Georgia smirked.
I love this girl.