yesterday…I was playing it over and again on a cassette deck in a car park in Phoenix Arizona and I couldn’t stop crying…
Drove south for days with my parents and $700 dollars to buy my first car in Arizona. She was a 1969 Austin Healy Sprite. I was thirteen. I love the desert, and I loved her. I love her still.
She was from Montrose, Colorado, and she kissed me in the hot tub after mini-golf while our parents were upstairs and her brother awkwardly hung round until she couldn’t wait for him to catch on. Sixteen and exotic, with her American accent and braces on her teeth.
I remember the way those braces scraped at my lips and turning my back to her brother when she moved my hand with hers to her bikini top. I was lost in that day, in the fingertips and the fears and the tastes and the tears of teenaged love.
she left early the next morning and I took the keys and the casstte tape and played ‘yesterday’ until she stopped writing letters.