2003

You two were in the back of the van, together, as usual. Where all your bags of clean and dirty clothes and blankets were. And nobody even gave a look as you and Pete absolutely ate each other up.

You were 19 and Pete was 24. This was predictable for people so early in life, let alone early adulthood. You guys were making out like it was the last time you ever could. Like, opening mouth, sloppy, messy kisses. The types of kisses that mixed spit so heavy both of yours ended up tasting the same.

He had a hand slipped under your cheap shirt you got at a show when you were 15 and never let go. Rough, and calloused, and warm, and big, rubbing over the pudginess that naturally resided on you. And he started gently feeling you up. You loved when he did this. It made you shiver.

He was older, more experienced with this stuff. You never really slept around. Didn't have a chance to. You two started dating a couple weeks after you turned 19. So you had a year of adulthood until you were locked down. Unlike Pete. You were 4 months in now, just long enough to where the 'i love you's' were still so new, and fresh, and exciting. You liked it. You liked feeling new things.

You just kept kissing, and kissing, and kissing. Until Andy, tonight's designated driver, shouted from the front.

"Calm down before you start fucking, please, for the betterment of everyone here!"

And even though you avoided it, Pete pulled away from your overly zealous mouth turning his head to look at the other side of the van. He still touched you, but he was done with the eating-our-own-mouth kisses.

"Whatever, screw you."