We made out while we waited for the mechanic. The rain, determined, the windows, fogged.
We were Kate and Leonardo in the steamy car that caused the Titanic to sink. We were shipwrecked, we were stranded, we were stuck. We were the love interests of every college film ever made, parked overlooking the city at Inspiration Point.
As a young woman I always found these movies terribly confusing, the way they assumed the viewer was a male. The glorification of the female's body, the holy grail crescendoes when the male got see it.
I was her, I was her, I was him.