I am so sleepy. Sleepy and warm, dancing in his arms. His long hair is tickling my face. I feel as though I am in a womb. It is dark. Muffled 80s music is dampened by my drowsiness. When I feel his lips come to mine, I snap awake at the realization that this is Landmark. A Real Big Deal. I mean, I’ve written about this moment in my diary, imagined how it would happen, fretted about my lack of experience. I freak out. The pressure is just too much. I don’t know how to kiss! I mean, how do you kiss?!? I pull away and remember that I am in my high school cafeteria. This place where I have spent what seems like my entire life seems so foreign to me now. There are strangers dancing in thrift store clothes. There is a boy with a collar and leash, playfully being spanked by another boy while they dance to “Blister in the Sun”. A greasy haired DJ is in his corner, lost to the beat. All that is familiar about this place is the vast expanse of sickly yellow tile and the folded up lunch tables that are sheltering us. And I am happy.