If you read I still write you love letters then you know why I wanted my rendezvous with Troy to be special. I didn’t think I’d ever be alone with him again. This will be the last day we have together and I want our last few hours to be something I'll always remember. Since I had some time to kill before the big day I went shopping. I was in my room for hours debating about what I should wear. Troy and I are going sailing. It’s something I love and he’s never been so the day should be interesting.
For those of you who are curious I didn’t lie about my plans. I told people I was going sailing I just never told them who I was spending the upcoming weekend with. Days have never passed so slowly before. I tried to keep myself busy by purchasing treats for my picnic basket. I spent quite a bit of time figuring out what I should serve Troy for our special picnic lunch. Troy didn't like the idea of cold cucumber soup but I told him I had a mystery ingredient in my soup. One that wasn’t in the recipe books. I kissed him when I saw him. I spread everything out on a linen tablecloth. I handed him a perfectly chilled glass of wine, I presented the soup with a flourish but all he did was grumble about how much garlic I had used.
Sitting across from Troy with nothing to say I started wondering what I had ever seen in him. Formerly we had talked endlessly about art and literature, music and romance. Today I was tired of listening to him whine about the weather and complain about the food. Things changed for the better once we were out on the water. Sailing always puts me in a good mood. There’s something about the crisp fresh air that I love. It’s being out in the sun and having the wind whip your hair around. The wine was really something too. I was drinking sangria straight from the container I had packed it in and for how much bitching Troy did about the soup he ate twice as much as I did.
Eventually all the food I had packed was gone. Troy and I settled down under the blanket I had packed. The wind had picked up while the sun made its way across the sky. Troy started shivering. I moved closer to him to try and warm him up. He told me he should have listened to me when I said it could be cold out on the lake. My smile faltered as I pulled the blanket tighter around us. We sat there for another couple of minutes. I was watching Troy, unconsciously trying to memorize his face. I noticed that Troy has the same lashes his sister Daisy does. They both have brightly colored eyes but their lashes are thin and sparse. Troy's face was pale under his summer tan. His hand was cold when I picked it up. The sun faded. Colors bled across the horizon. I was thinking, red at night, sailor’s delight, when Troy’s eyes opened up.
He asked me what the mystery ingredient in my soup was. I kissed his cool limp hand one final time. His eyes closed again. This wasn’t very nice of me but I couldn’t bear the idea of Troy and all those beautiful under-grad students. He didn’t have to leave. He could have taken a job at a private college here but Troy wouldn’t listen to reason so I poisoned him with soup, of the green variety.