It was Christmas vacation, you were bored of home and all of your friends were living half a day's drive south of you. At this point you would have taken a trip to walmart to get yourself out of the house.
Your phone rings, it's one of your friends, saying he has tickets for the midnight showing of Return of the King, but it's showing in their home town. He grabbed you a ticket because he knows you're crazy enough to drive.
So you drive five hours to be there.
You see them, you sit with them, you game with them. You missed them and you'd only been away for two days. They're your friends and they are happier because you are there. They thought of you seven counties away.
And you go to dinner and sit next to the boy, the boy who has a girlfriend but that doesn't really bother you. You split your meal with him and some how are seated so it's just the two of you in one section of the movie theatre.
You think more about your arms touching than the movie.
At three in the morning the entire group staggers back to one house and curls up on the floor.
He sleeps with his shirt off and you discover that he has one of the most beautiful tattoos right in the center of his shoulder blades.
That tattoo sticks with you for a few weeks and you know that it is always hidden under his t-shirts. And you know that it's beautiful.