The best part of that night wasn’t ******* in the front seat of your mom’s car
(“I don’t want your roommate to walk in”),
with me sitting on your lap
(“turn around”)
and riding you
(“you feel amazing, babe”).
No, the best part of that night was when the security guard caught us
(“your windows are foggy, sir”)
and you blatantly lied to keep us out of trouble
(“I was just making out with my girlfriend”),
and then we sped away
(“you should probably put your pants on now”).
My heart was pounding.
My hands were shaking.
Adrenaline was pumping through my veins,
and I could barely breathe.
Yes, we got caught.
But we didn’t get in trouble.
We got away with most of our pride
and without a public indecency charge.
As we sped away,
laughing and smoking cheap cigarettes,
I felt more loved
and in love
than I have ever felt in my life.