We were at the end of the road, the last of a dying breed. Nine had come before us, but none would go after. We closed the chapter on a decade of big hair, neon, and mullets. We knew every single word to Livin On A Prayer and had multiple shades of acid wash jeans. We are the class of 1989. The entire 80s was a free fall. We made up everything as we went along, held our breath, and just jumped. I mean, we might as well jump. It beats getting thrown from the back of the pickup truck, all of us piled into any given day.

Now that I've managed to paint a picture of Friday Night Videos and Fantasy Island, I'd like to talk about one night.
Funland was my Saturday evening destination. I'd spend the week collecting quarters so I could blow them all on Galaga or Centipede. When the change ran out, my buddies and I would spend the rest of the evening driving up and down Riverside Drive, hoping to catch the latest crush's attention. We'd usually end up broke and out of gas, discussing future fame and fortune.
I parked outside of the arcade and made my way into the crowded room to meet up with my pals. It's super important to look as cool as possible whenever entering a social gathering. Those first impressions are everything, and I had to make the most of my entrance. Sharp Dressed Man was echoing through my mind like a mantra to guide my footsteps safely. I couldn't have made it three feet into the building before I tripped over a pool stick someone had left on the floor. Who the hell leaves a pool stick on the floor! I quickly stood up and took a bow letting everyone know to go about their business, and there was nothing to see here. I could hear Pac-Man dying in the background as I failed to win over the audience.
"So much for a grand first impression," I thought to myself as I tried to disappear from existence in a game of Donkey Kong. I felt a tap on my shoulder, then I heard the words, "You're going to have to teach me how to fall like that sometime." Before turning around, I mentioned how I'd be around all night and was only getting warmed up. She giggled as I moved to face her for the first time. This is where I'd love to say our eyes locked, and the room slowed down around us as we knew then and there we were meant for each other. That's not what happened at all. My knees must have locked up or something because I stumbled forward, giving her a massive forehead to her nose's bridge. She covered her face in pain as her eyes began to water. "Are you okay!?" I told her I was sorry a few hundred times before she finally told me to shut up and that she'd be fine.

It was pretty noisy in the game room, and she had a headache all of a sudden and asked if we could go outside. I walked her out, and we took a seat on the hood of my car. It was the first moment I'd had the chance to really see her. She was insanely gorgeous. I mean, she was The Bangles lead singer hot. "I'm Kim," she said as she rubbed her nose, trying to shake off the pain from our close encounter. I nervously smiled and told her it was nice to meet her. After a short pause, she gave me a puzzled look and said, "Do you have a name, or should I call you Mr, Awkward?" I told her that my name is Chris, but awkward would work as well.
We joked around for a while, and Kim explained she was only in town for a few days visiting because she was considering attending Austin Peay in the fall. After a few minutes of small talk, we decided to hop in the car and drive downtown for a walk to get away from everyone.

The more we strolled and spoke to each other, the more relaxed I became. We ended up climbing to the roof of a downtown building to get a better view of the world.
The night sky was full of stars, and we even had a private concert courtesy of the El Camino parked below us in the street, blaring a homemade mixtape. We talked about the pains of growing up and the uncertainty of everything ahead of us. She asked me if I'd had any regrets in life so far. It seemed like an incredibly important question. I needed a little time to put some thought into it, so I asked her if she'd go first.
Kim spoke about how she'd had a chance to live with her grandparents her senior year in Florida but turned them down to spend time with people she grew up around. She told me that she would go back in time if she could and get far away from her father. Kim never gave me very many details of how her dad abused her, but it happened a lot, and it wasn't something she could express without a sadness I'd never seen before. Kim cried for a few minutes as I stood shoulder to shoulder next to her, leaning over the building's edge. She finally took a pause and asked me what my regret was. I smiled and told her that I still have time to avoid my tragedy. She asked me not to keep her in suspense any longer. "My biggest regret would be not asking you to dance with me right now." I know how cheesy that sounded, but the truth is I meant every word of it at that moment. Kim smiled and rested her head on my chest as we danced for an hour on a rooftop to some guys mixtape in an El Camino. We never did kiss, but it felt like we did when I held her, which was enough for both of us.

I took her back to her car late that night, and she drove off.
I got a letter from Kim a few weeks later telling me that she wouldn't be attending APSU in the fall and had decided to move to Florida close to her grandparents. She said she had a few good college choices and may as well be close to the beach. Kim closed the letter with three words, "no more regrets."

I think about her sometimes, and I wonder how she's doing. I'm glad she got away from her father. I'm happy I got my dance too.