Songs About Darcy
“I made you a mix.” He said, as he handed me the tiny box.
He neatly wrote every song on each tiny line on the paper insert. In bold script across the top it said: Miss You Mix.
I popped the tape in my Walkman the second my camp bus pulled away from the curb and for the next few hours listened to it over and over again on my way to the Berkshires.
I will never ever forget Bobby Banks, I thought as I kept my finger on the re-wind button, listening to each song 26 times. Until…I arrived at camp and re-united with Matt Lucas.
Next thing I knew, I was making a mix tape for Matt Lucas at the end of the summer, decorating his insert with hearts and stars and rainbows, and whatever else I could manage to draw, which wasn’t much. It was the perfect balance of Richard Marx, Bryan Adams, Peter Cetera, and Depeche Mode, with a touch of Van Morrison. I dubbed a copy for myself and cried the entire way back to New York City, listening to it over and over again. I glanced down at the scratched plastic window on the Walkman which revealed the title on a sticker that was crookedly placed on the tape: Summer Of 1990.
I will never ever forget Matt Lucas, I swore to myself. I would listen to the tape every night before I went to sleep. Every night for at least three weeks.
Leo and I have been dating one month, one week and three days. This weekend was our tenth date. If you count breakfast, it may have been our fourteenth. Not that I am counting.
On our last date Leo sat next to me and showed me his IPod.
“I have something for you. I made you a playlist.”
“It only has 22 songs. But it’s perfect. It’s songs we listen to together and songs that just remind me of you. I’d like to make it 100 songs.”
I think I stopped breathing for a second. In a good way. Leo had basically made me a mix tape. Which, as you know, you only do if you really like someone. I swooned.
He even named it. “Songs About Darcy”, a play on the Maroon 5 album Songs About Jane, which he gave me as well in the good old-fashioned form of a CD.
“The girl on the album cover kind of looks you.” He said as I ripped it from the wrapping paper, “Ignore the amateur wrapping job. It’s the best I could do.”
It could have been wrapped in garbage for all I cared, all i knew was that every hair on my body was standing on end.
How awesome is Leo. I thought to myself.
My old friend Ricky said to me over lunch the other day, “Of all times Darcy, how can you get a boyfriend now? No one is going to want to read about a mom in a relationship.”
“True.” I said.
But they will want to read about the mix he made me. And I bet I am right.
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