Corey couldn’t believe her eyes.
Kyle advanced slowly from the top of the ramp, down toward her. He looked as if he was afraid to make a sudden move, lest he spook her like a rabbit and she disappeared forever into the subterranean warren of the Garden. In fairness, she was balling her fists and screaming at the top of her lungs just a moment before. She imagined she looked like a wounded and feral animal.
How did he get here?
“I had this whole epic speech planned, but with all the…” he said, circling his index finger around, toward the sky. She had no idea what he was talking about.
Tears filled her eyes. She swiped at them roughly and tried to keep her chin from quivering.
“Finding you, seeing you here…” he continued. He was out of breath, as if he had come a long way. “I just want to carry your guitar, Corey. Everywhere. And forever.”
About ten feet from her, he stopped advancing and said, “What would you say to that?”
“Boom,” she said.
She charged up the ramp and flung herself at him. He caught her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and with her momentum and the slanted pavement, they both tumbled backward. She pushed him onto his back and found his lips and kissed him over and over, and they rolled around together on the ramp, under the night sky, him stroking her short hair and her rubbing his beard, laughing and crying and murmuring apologies and affirmations and pledges to each other and laughing some more.
After a long time, Corey stood up and pulled Kyle to his feet.
“Come on, baby. I have to murder the lead singer.”
“Can I help?”
“Fuck yeah. You’re driving the getaway car, Binder Man. Where is it anyway?”
“Roads?” said Kyle. “Where we’re going we don’t need roads.”
She wrapped her arms around his bicep as they marched up the ramp, abandoning the Garden for the bright city streets.
She up looked at him. “I love you, Kyle, but you’re such a nerd.”
He smiled. “I’m about to get a lot cooler.”