She flops down on the grass, a blade getting in her hair. She doesn't notice. She's wouldn't have minded anyways — she's the type that is okay getting a little gross for dramatics.
"This pandemic is wasting my youth!" She glances at me. "Our youth."
I smile in agreement but think, are we that young? The sun touches my face — gently but I'll blush all day. We have to figure out survival and love and embarrassment and lessons we probably needed to learn long ago. We have to remember to laugh.