Kay, Part III
I really miss Kay, now that I’ve been writing these random memories out. I lost touch with her years ago, after college ended, but she was a spectacular person. She was extraordinarily chill, and had this great understated laugh that you’d get to hear best when it was just the two of you, distanced from the noise of whatever raging house party we were attending at the time. We’d become friends very early on during freshman year of college. I can’t recall how we met, honestly, but I remember her being one of my favorite people soon after arriving at school.
The first time we ever hooked up was probably about three years after we’d become friends. It’s another Memory Without Context. I have a perfectly clear snapshot of this moment, but no idea when it happened, or what occured before or after. It’s an island of a memory.
I have no clue why we were in Kay’s basement, but I distinctly recall being in her basement. Maybe I was hanging out, and we were smoking together, and she went down to change some laundry? That sounds plausible, as I can’t manufacture any other reason to be down there. I’m fairly sure I went down so that we could keep smoking while we changed clothes from the washer to the dryer.
I recall that I was leaning against the wall near the basement stairs, and we’d been talking and laughing, and as she came over to smoke, I decided to pull everything out of her reach – I was taller than Kay by a good foot. She reached up to try and grab my hand, and suddenly we were just an inch or two apart. It’s funny how those little moments can appear out of nowhere, and without reason. But I feel like their random appearance is one of the most fun and interesting things about life.