Spring brings liberated limbs, bare skin stripped from under puffy coats and long necks revealed where before we saw scarves. And it’s brought a lot of couples out, full of very public affection, especially among teenagers.
On the way to work, I walk by a playground. Usually there are small children there, shrieking and sliding and swinging. But the warmer weather brings out their older siblings as well, standing around chatting or laying underneath the trees. There’s a couple in particular, desperately making out against the fence. The girl’s hands are around the boy’s boxered waist, with his jeans sagging way down beneath. His fingers are knotted into the chain-link fence, twisted through on either side of her pressed back. She leans casually backwards; he stands further away and leans way in, connecting only at their faces.
I chuckle and start to look away, when I notice an awkward gesture. A sort of wriggling.
The boy has managed to step into a bicycle lock!
Her eyes are closed, enjoying the kiss. His eyes are wide, flashing down. His leg is trying to move. He is clinging to the fence for balance. He doesn’t want to ruin the make-out, but he bobs a little too far to the left, and I hear their teeth audibly knock together.
“MMF!” She cries out, pushing him backwards and clapping her hand over her hurt mouth.
His leg is still not detangled. He falls backwards. “Are you okay?” He cries, sitting on his bottom, sagging jeans almost at the bottom of his boxers.
And then I am past them, biting my lips to keep my smile hidden, to keep my giggling silent.
“F-fine? Babe?” The girl stammers.
Ah, young love.