How could I be so ridiculous? I can’t believe I avoided the complete obviousness of what my simple action would do. Even the stupidest, most daft person could say, with just cause, how stupid I was.

It was a crisp, aired, hot, sunny day: A perfection of the season I’d call it. “Where is she?” I thought silently and dramatically at the back of my head, which I perfectly mulled over the precise way I envisioned myself last time I saw her. I ran a hand through my hair nervously as my mom and I drove through

the back entrance of Mt. Olympus in the Wisconsin Dells. I remember mom’s sleek, new Chevy wagon drove up to the parking
register booth. She asked the cashier whether we needed to pay the fee (a whopping $10 for parking), if she was just dropping me off. As she spoke, I laid back in my seat, very content with the situation. As we were cleared,

she sped up to the entrance. I rolled down the window to hear the sound of gravel popping underneath the tires and the screams of the roller coaster, Hades, above our heads.I never wanted to go on that one. I didn't mind roller coasters, as long as someone was going to go with me. It feels pointless to go on one without someone.

From a distance, I saw a shiny, brown, Dodge Ram pull around the bend toward us. I never knew what kind of car her grandparent’s drove, even after hearing little bits and stories from long before that day, nearly a month and a half before. Somehow, I knew that had to be them. My mind was clattering. I was standing there chillish against the fake, crumbling plaster foam of which the entrance booth consisted. My mind, a storm, I barely noticed a girl and her family walking up toward us. I didn't say a word to Mom of course. I wanted to delay the moment that Liz and my mom met for as long as I could. I remembered Mom saying something about her picture on my phone being amazing and how she was very pretty. Model pretty. I ignored all of this of course, although I was stunned at how great she
looked.

“Heeeeeey Liz!” I said as she walked up to us. I left mom to stand there watching us. “I see you still
have my shades,” I whispered as we stopped hugging.

“Yeah…” Liz said with the little smirk I always enjoyed. After that, we mingled around a bit, introducing her grandparents to my mom and shaking their hands. Then, we went through the gates, and we tooled around for half the day, playing on this and that: roller coasters, go carts, the wave pools, and slides. After awhile it seemed to be wanting to rain outside, so she suggested we should go on the worst roller coaster, Hades. She was always so determined and persuasive. I said sure, with some hesitation from both of us, of course. We strolled lazily up to the line. I said about 50 times that we were going to die, so we both pretty much accepted our fates.

We waited in line a bit more at the top of Hades. Waiting was okay though. Liz rested her head on my shoulder,
and I whispered some sly comments and she smiled. “I still can’t get over those eyes of yours.” She looked up at me, and her eyes shown a cold, deep, aqua blue. Her eyes are actually green, of course, with gold flecks that
reflected brightly in the sunlight.


Later, we got onto the coaster, on the third row from the back, if I recall… maybe even the back. Liz had her shades pushed up on her head. My shades actually, the ones I bought
at a mall in Texas for $26 with a second identical pair for my cousin. She ended up taking them,
but that was okay with me. “Errrrrr… You wanna put those in your pocket…?” I asked Liz, as Hades started to go.
“Sure,” she replied, quickly taking them off,“but my pockets
aren't that deep. Put them in yours.”

I took her
shades and put them in my pocket, along with a studded leather wallet and
some spare cash. I ignored my gut feeling, which was to leave the stuff off to the
side or in the red, perfectly-designated buckets that hold things while people are on the ride.

The ride started up the long slope, and after reminding Liz that we were gonna die once again, I asked if she would like one last kiss. She didn't exactly decline, as we had already sped up to around 400 miles per hour into a God-forsaken hole in the bottom of the parking lot below. Besides her ear splitting screams that I ignored because my ribs felt like cracking from the bone-jarring deceleration, I glanced at what ended up being the “up” that would be my pocket as we started to go upside-down. I then realized that maybe having nearly 40 dollars of my girlfriend’s money and sunglasses, that looked extremely sexy on both of us, in my pocket on an upside-down coaster wasn't the smartest idea. I didn't think of it for long, though.

Later, we got off of Hades, shaken and sore. I didn't think to look whether the contents, which I also remembered included my cell phone, were still safely tucked into my pocket until we were heading back toward the wave pool. I quickly checked my pocket as we walked. “Uh oh…” I said dramatically.

Of course she was too happy to notice my distraught look until I stopped her. “I lost the glasses.”
“What?” she asked, confused.

“Your shades,” I repeated “They’re gone.”

“You’re kidding me,” she said with disappointment and some other vulgar language.
“Nope they are gone alright. I’m really sorry though,” I replied.

She stared at me for a bit, both of us knowing how stupid I was, but of course, we both considered the shades with disdain, knowing that it wasn't that big of deal to us. “It’s okay, just some sunglasses,” she muttered.

It wasn't that okay to me though. She, as well as I, looked fashionably sexy in them, not to mention, they created some sort of weird bond between us that is still there, even though the glasses are still gone and I haven't seen her face in months. They were her first gift from me, of course.