Stories and plots unraveling

Rain was sparkling, shimmering all around Grayson.  He’d left his earbuds, his phone, resting atop the worn cushions of his favorite writing loveseat, where he’d always curl up his legs and hug his leather-bound notebook to his ches

I know the rules and rights are 

The same:

For boys and girls

And everyone in between,

We are supposed to stand

On the same uneven ground,

Our friendship started with a story,

Really:

When we cradled our violins

And swept our bows through the air,

Giggling as we peeked into the holes