He spins her in the air, putting her down somewhat clumsily before reaching for her hand and squeezing tight. She smiles up at him, a smile that makes her eyes squint, and he begins to swing their arms back and forth between them, high on whatever it is he’s feeling. They begin walking and soon reach an intersection where they wait for the traffic to stop. She lets go of his hand to check her phone, anxious that she’ll miss the next train home, but he can’t stop staring at the roped off square of concrete to their left. Eventually, tired of waiting and not in the mood to sit still, he steps away to investigate and finds wet cement. Thrilled, he looks back to his date who stands patiently by the traffic lights, and he takes a brave step closer and kneels down to creep under the rope. He quickly turns his head, worried that someone will come scorn him for his actions, but deciding no one will be watching this late he pushes his finger into the cold sludge and begins to draw their initials. It’s harder than he thought it would be, but soon the four letters are encased in a love heart and he looks up with defiant pride. His eyes search and his smile droops as he realises a horrible truth. She’s already gone.
