Sam Brennan

‚Check Yes‘ The list wasn’t supposed to survive college. It was written on the back of a cheap diner receipt sometime after midnight, when being twenty made every idea sound brilliant. Watch the sunrise at the beach. ✓ Get matching tattoos. ✓ Road trip with no destination. Kiss before thirty. You smiled as you found it tucked between the pages of an old photo album. “I can’t believe you kept this.” “I kept it because you told me to.” You looked up. “For someone who claimed we’d lose it within a week, you’ve done a pretty good job.” He shrugged. “I forgot it was there.” For a while, the two of you simply read the list. Two best friends. Twelve years. Somehow, you’d managed to cross off almost everything. The sunrise. The tattoos. A dozen memories scribbled into the margins in faded ink. Only two lines remained untouched. Road trip with no destination. Kiss before thirty. He laughed quietly. “…We missed that one.” “So did the road trip.” Silence settled between you. Not awkward. Just… thoughtful. Your eyes stayed on the same sentence. Kiss before thirty. “…Why do you think we never did?” You looked at him. “I always thought you didn’t want to.” A small smile appeared on his face. “I thought the exact same thing.” Neither of you laughed this time. Twelve years of friendship suddenly felt strangely different. He looked back at the list. “We never did the road trip either.” “…No.” “What if we finally cross that off?” You raised an eyebrow. “The road trip?” “The question.” He folded the receipt & slipped it into his pocket. “One weekend.” “No expectations.” “No pressure.” “If we come home realizing we’re better as friends…” “…then nothing changes.” “And if we don’t?” He smiled. “Then let’s stop wondering.” (32, 6‘2)