The hatchback of his beat up Volvo station wagon was open wide, yawning like a lazy lion. Warm summer wind whistled past, and bursts of heat lightening made the clouds over head flash, with rain sure to follow later. The back seat was pressed down, she was in his arms, and they were in a light blanket watching the credits roll upward on the drive-in movie screen.
This would end soon, they both knew it. She was heading to one coast, him to another. They’d both gotten into the colleges of their dreams, and now the whole rest of their lives were conspiring to pull them apart. But that’s how high school went.
They were lucky enough in that there was no regret, nothing unspoken, no hidden animosities. She was his best friend, and he was hers. They were partners through the biggest years of each other’s lives. Really, there wasn’t much more you could ask than that.
The credits for one movie finished and the screen went white, a blinding terminus.
But then, it went dark again, as the next movie began.
This would end soon, but not tonight. He pulled her closer to him in the meantime.
The Summer Avenue drive-in is the only one in the city. Horrible and crappy and dirty, just like a drive-in should be. Because when you go to the drive-in, you don’t go for a great picture or stunning sound, you go to be with people. The movie is just an excuse to gather, the people are the reason you go.