Like his name, Gray is dark and stormy. Dylan is the exact opposite–full of light and life. It’s definitely not love at first sight for these two. But slowly, fascination turns to admiration, which turns to caring, until finally these lone souls find love.
But staying in love is not as easy as falling in love. If Dylan and Gray want their love to last, they’re going to have to learn that sometimes love means having to say you’re sorry.
Gray
Friday night Dylan and I drive to a coffee shop in downtown Phoenix called McKinley’s to watch an open mike night. Dylan heard it’s mostly acoustic. She loves live music and Phoenix has a decent scene. I’ve taken her to Bash on Ash, Boston’s, and the Green Amigo, three bars that let in minors as long as you wear those paper bracelets so the whole world knows you’re a baby.
We sit across from each other at a corner table and watch a girl perform “Show me,” by the Cure. She isn’t too bad.
Dylan informs me tonight she wants to ask questions. That’s it. Questions.
“Like what?” I ask her.
All categories, she says. Just random questions that make you think. She offers to go first. She asks me which albums I would bring if I were stranded on an island and could only bring five CDs.
Next it’s my turn. “Okay,” I say. “Let’s say this island also has an eighty-four-inch TV and DVD player.” Dylan rolls her eyes. “Hey,” I say. “This is my question. If you could only bring five movies to watch, what would they be?”