We photocopied flyers that said “It will be poppin!’” for the kegger that served bubble gum instead of beer. A pile of paper-wrapped pink bricks in an empty metal barrel, instead of keg stands we staged a contest to see who could blow the best bubble. Some kids blew bubbles big enough to hide behind, pointing at them and shrugging when people tried conversation. Promising not to pop them until the right person came along. Before their lungs expanded with breath, two kids kissed—their gum stretched over their tongues like little condoms. Shakey and sugary, others slipped into the woods and spit out their pink, mangled hearts. Their gum glistened with saliva and was spangled with pine needles. Afterwards, they took turns cutting the wads from one another’s hair—proud that everyone at school on Monday would know from their matching missing pieces they were a pair.