Fireflies

11

Each day, I reminisced those moments with him, with Mark. When I took a walk in the local neighborhood one early morning, I passed by an empty basketball court and I stopped, scanning the area, and sighed.

— — —

"Did I tell you I'm pretty good in basketball?" he proudly said, right brow raising.

"You didn't, but are you?"

He stood up, picked up the ball, and perked up his head. Shoulders straight and upright, stance proper and admirable. The moment he fixed his gaze on the court, sauntering away from me and going nearer to the ring of the gym instead, such thrill came over me.

"I'm going to show you something cool," he promised and I laughed seeing him so serious about it. "I swear and I'm telling you I'll make you stand up and cheer for me."

I waved my hand back and forth and stood up as well.  With Mark standing on the line of the three-point space, I approached him in amusement.

"You don't have to do that to surprise me, but maybe you're willing to shoot all the way from here to impress me?"  I challenged.

Mark snickered but his ears turned red, and being with him made me realize he also grew nervous. His fingers tightly clutched the ball and I stood a couple of meters away from him, elated to witness a close shooting.

His breathing deepened and he exhaled hard, took a glimpse at me, and smiled.

"If I succeed, will you grant me a wish?" he asked with hopeful eyes.

I clasped my hands, baffled at his remark. "Are you serious? That's a hit-or-miss shot."

"Can you let me try once? As practice. I think I'm more nervous than before," he admitted with a shy grin.

"Sure, go ahead."

Mark attempted to shoot for a three-pointer distance while he stood in the middle. My hopes were high for him but as soon as he let go of the ball, he screamed.

"Claire, this is for you!"

The ball missed, unfortunately. I giggled in amusement but also stopped as soon as I saw his sagging shoulders. His confidence went down a little bit so I had to get closer.

"Mark, it's okay. You said it was a practice round," I mouthed patting his back.

"You're teasing me,"  he exclaimed, gesturing a pout that made me giggle even more.

"I'm sorry, okay? I will cheer you on this time so you can make it. No more practice rounds."

He walked back to the spot where he shot the missed ball earlier and heaved a long, deepened sigh. Mark stretched his head from left to right before dribbling it again. It seemed even more amusing because he was wearing uniformed slacks, in color black. Especially because he didn't sport sneakers but formal dress shoes instead. Not fit for the occasion but works anyway.

"This time, I'll make it. No matter the pressure," he said craning his neck in my direction.

Before he aimed and attempted the shot, he flashed a smile at me and proceeded to launch the ball.

"Claire, you have to go on a picnic with me!" he bellowed with jaw clenched, throat gulping.

My legs started to melt and the throbbing of my heart immensely doubled as if I was palpitating whenever I drank black coffee. When the balls reached the hoops and went straight through, I squealed in enthusiasm. Mark, too, punched his arm up into the air and jumped around with me.

We celebrated like little kids bundled in joy after being treated with snacks. We locked gazes, jaws dropping on the floor, and clasped both our palms on each side, and circled around the court. For a minute, I was so overjoyed that I forgot everything about who I was.

"You did it!" I squealed again.

"I knew it! Claire, you have to go on a picnic with me now. You made a deal with me."

"All right, all right."

— — —

That made me swallow a sad beam, my eyes seemed wearier with each passing day. How fun and interesting of a day it was that it remained one of the most memorable points of this significant point in time.

— — —

"Do you want to get on that?" he asked me when we arrived at the back of the campus.

My gaze moved to the wooden swing attached to two huge redwood trees. Leaping into a glee, sparkling eyes replaced my dull hazel ones and Mark's face softened upon realizing how elated and silly I looked.

"I will!" I responded gladly.

"Wait," he grabbed me by the shoulder and made me face him. "Let me tie your shoe first. It's dangerous for you to walk around with loose shoelaces."

Mark voluntarily squat down, stretched out his hands, and tied the laces of my white shoes. The gesture made my face rosy, abashed. After he was done, he stood back up, towered over me, and offered a curving of his lips upward.

"I'll tie it for you so you won't have a hard time crouching down," he offered kindly. "Tell me anything you want help with and I'll willingly do it for you."

Those words warmed my heart, kept it swelled and in an irregular beating. Dismissing confusing notions, I looked away and stared somewhere else. He made me nervous but not in a bad, vicious way.

I quickly got on the swing and moved in a blithe manner. As soon as I giddily shifted, my hair hung loosely, it flew with the wind. Mark pushed the swing for me and I squealed and laughed along whenever he popped a joke or two.

"This is the first step for you to feel free," he said behind me. "Free from every cuff and shackles that hold you down."

When he uttered those words, I felt tears run down my cheeks. Happy tears. All throughout the swinging, Mark's laugh echoed as well behind me and I felt glad, grateful too.

He did not know my story but he showed me that I was capable of overcoming the horrors, going away from the livid claws of misery.

"Thank you, Mark!" I screamed to the wind.

My back facing him, his loud voice made it better. Totally better.

— — —

I think I miss him.