A World Without You. A. S. Peterson
than she actually felt.
Swinging back-and-forth, her gaze remained on the embankment where he had materialized on Monday. Positive he’d appear any minute, she pushed herself until she was soaring.
When hours appeared to pass instead of minutes, she slowed and dragged her feet on the ground. Dread crept inside of her. A quick glance at her designer watch showed thirty-five minutes after ten.
Nausea filled her stomach while tears welled up. Her fear of never seeing the boy was becoming a reality. At the same moment she decided he wouldn’t show, he suddenly climbed over the embankment. The sight of him caused her heart to leap into her throat. She swallowed and quickly wiped the moisture from her eyes.
As he approached, she gripped the chains of the swings, holding her breath. He looked more handsome today, wearing a navy-blue T-shirt that accentuated his color tone. His blue jeans were newer, although he still wore his worn tennis shoes.
They stared at one another while Scott quickly made his way to the swings. They were both relieved that the other one had showed up. Scott was especially pleased she hadn’t given up on him and left.
The girl looked attractive with her long blond hair pulled up at the sides with barrettes. Her expensive shirt was tucked neatly into her blue designer shorts, and there was a pinkish color to her cheeks. Once again, her beauty and simplicity made him feel breathless. He had seen her wipe her eyes earlier.
As Scott stepped in front of her, he casually took her hands which felt warm and soft. He asked, “You didn’t think I’d show up?”
When she looked down, as if she was embarrassed, he squeezed her hands. Since Monday, he had been waiting for this moment and longed to tell her how she had mesmerized his every thought. When she finally looked at him with her angelic blue eyes, he nearly explained that wild horses or a demanding mother wouldn’t have kept him from the park. Instead he said, “I had to mow some lawns first, three of them.”
As her eyebrows rose with interest, he wondered why mowing lawns captivated her attention.
She asked, “Were they big lawns?”
Surprised by her question, Scott replied, “No, each lawn took about fifteen minutes.”
She gasped, “You mowed for forty-five minutes before coming here?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t look tired.”
“It’s not very tiring.” Scott paused, changing the subject. “Did you get a new dog?”
She shook her head at the same time his stomach growled loudly.
He gave a humiliated grin. “I didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast.”
“Because you had to mow the lawns?”
“Yeah, I didn’t want to be any later than I was,” Scott replied as he reached into his pocket, took out the two granola bars, and handed one to her. “Would you like one?”
The girl’s eyes brightened while she shook her head. Scott inhaled hurriedly, wishing he had eaten the granola bars at the same time he had gulped down the water. His hunger was making him look odd on their first date—if this was actually a date.
The girl studied him with such an intense expression, it made his head spin. He wondered what she was thinking. Her unspoken thoughts whirled around his personal space. Maybe this is what it means by the statement “the air of feminine mystery?” Wishing he knew what was on her mind, he thrust a granola bar at her. “You can have one.”
The girl pressed her lips together, probably wanting to laugh at his spontaneous gesture, but she seemed too mannered to laugh at anyone. However, this time, she accepted the granola bar, obviously not wanting to offend him.
They sat on the swings, eating quietly. Surprisingly the consumption of food transpired a moment of intimacy. When they finished eating, they strolled over to the trash can, threw the wrappers away, and drank some water from the drinking fountain near the restrooms.
Scott rubbed his hands on his jeans before taking the girl’s hand. This simple gesture was already feeling natural. The aroma of blossoming flowers reminded him of the name poem he had written. He said, “I don’t even know your name.”
“Briana Johnson.”
Was it the harmony of her name or the softness in which she spoke it, the reason for the loss of air? Either way, Scott felt winded again. Her name was prettier than any of the ones he had imaged. “That’s a beautiful name. I’m Scott Furman.”
As she smiled, Scott smiled in return and didn’t miss how she stared at his lips before turning her head. He wanted to mention she had great kissable lips too, but maybe she wasn’t even thinking about kissing him like he was thinking about kissing her. Scott turned and scanned the perimeter of the park, bordered by a forest of trees except where the rosebushes aligned the embankment. Opposite of the rosebushes were the restrooms. A few yards north was the entrance and the parking lot. The open lawn area and the basketball court were inviting if someone wanted to play sports, but he hadn’t come to play sports today. Scott moved his gaze further to his right.
His eyes settled on the south end where the forest of trees didn’t back up to the massive houses of North Hillside. If he was going to come to this park often, he needed to know the trails inside the woods. He asked, “Would you like to go exploring?”
“Yes.”
“Great,” Scott replied as he led Briana to the forest of maple, aspen, and oak trees. About seventy feet from the swings, there was an opening, leading into the woods.
“Do you want to see where this path goes?”
“Okay.”
They followed the narrow dirt path. Small twigs crunched underfoot as the air cooled. The farther they walked into the mass of trees, the darker it became. Annoying little insects buzzed around their heads while a flock of swallows took off in flight, rustling the canopy, disrupting the peacefulness of the woods.
Scott and Briana hiked a short distance before the path veered sharply to the right. A few seconds later, they entered a small clearing, brighter than the rest of the woods. The clearing was about the size of a small living room. A large rock was situated in the center, appearing to have been placed in that exact location for visitors to sit and contemplate the wonders of nature. To the right of the rock was a small area of grass, growing from the sun’s rays filtering through the canopy of trees. A decaying log lay at the edge of the clearing alongside the thickening trees.
Scott strolled to the rock, sat down, and made room for Briana, taking pleasure in her nearness. Her body heat burned through his T-shirt and flooded into his chest.
He inhaled the pleasant woodsy scent. Words such as tranquility, pleasure, virginity, and miraculous raced inside his brain. Briana’s presence inspired his poetic fluency, and he knew this sheltered spot was theirs. He said, “This will be our special place.”
Scott and Briana sat contently on the rock, listening to the chattering of squirrels and the humming of insects. The rustling of the leaves overhead and the cooler damp air added a feeling of coziness.
Briana shifted on the rock and glanced around. She smiled, pleased Scott had mentioned this secluded place was theirs. It was perfect. She glanced at the small patch of grass, thinking how Scott had mowed three lawns before coming to see her. She had never seen a boy her age mowing a yard. Everyone in her neighborhood hired gardeners. Briana bit the bottom of her lip. Maybe it was silly, but someday, she hoped to watch Scott mow a lawn.
It was amazing how at ease she felt with Scott. The self-consciousness she experienced earlier had vanished, replaced with a spine-tingling sensation, especially since their arms were touching. Another new sensation she’ll describe in her journal tonight.
They sat for several minutes, enjoying another moment of intimacy. When Scott unexpectedly stood up and pointed to another path, Briana frowned. She missed his body heat.