On The Inside

Smile - sᴏɴɢsʜᴏᴛ

Just because...

She sits there every day. Watching. Watching the water stir, the boats pass, her feet resting just below the water's surface. She's angry.

He likes her. He likes the way her bangs constantly get in the way of her looking at the world through those ember eyes that he adores. He likes the way the sun beams down upon her silky gold hair, sparking as it blew through the summer breeze. He likes the way her FM radio, just a whisper of a sound, keeps her company for hours on end. He watches. 

She's angry. She's angry at the world for what they did. 

That was the dock. That was the dock her father passed at. He'd gotten away from the family. He was sick, and he didn't want his family to see him suffer. So, one weekend, he'd gone down to the lake to fish on his boat. He needed time. He so desperately needed time, but it ran short. 

They found his body, wrapped in a blanket, inside the boat. He'd written a will. He knew. He left his boat, his dock space, and his car all to her. She was thankful, for the dock was her haven. Her getaway when things got bad. 

So, the boy who took his walks on the shore, saw her sitting there, like she always does, in her sunglasses and jean shorts. Her feet rest in the water, a soft melody singing through the speakers, and she watched the boats going through, setting out for an adventure.

One day, the boy picked a peach from the tree growing in his backyard. He didn't know how much a fruit would change things.

The boards creaked under his feet as he made his way to her. She didn't notice until he sat down.

"Peach?" he'd ask, showing her the delicate fruit. She'd take it, and eat it slowly. Their feet would touch softly as the water swished about, slapping against the parked boats. He liked the songs on the radio. 

They talked about how their day went. They talked about their families. They talked about life. They talked about what they wanted to be when they got older. Innocent sixteen year olds, they were. 

They became friends. Each day, he'd bring her a peach from the tree in his backyard, and she'd bring the FM radio, and they'd listen, and dip their feet in the water.

She told him about her dad. That man was her life. They'd go fishing together, just him and her. Then he'd take her out to ice cream. He'd get chocolate vanilla swirl, and she'd get vanilla with rainbow sprinkles, as they'd sit in the car, listening to the Beach Boys' cds.

She needed her father there with her. She was hurting.

So, the boy set out to make the girl happy. The boy felt like he was meant to. 

He took her out on his family's canoe, and she smiled. She laughed. The boat might've tipped over, twice, but they had fun.

For the rest of the summer, the boy took her places, was the shoulder she cried on, and fed her, which bonded them together. 

Soon enough, the leaves turned orange and brown, and the nights were shorter. And, as they sit on the dock, on a Sunday morning, in a light coat, hand in hand, he'd accomplished a goal. He'd turned her life around in a summer's length, thanks to patience, determination, and love. He'd made her smile.

And she loved him for that.