What Do You Mean Internet Friendships Aren't Real?

Part Three - Eleanor

In the morning, I commenced my daily routine of trying-to-make-Mom-think-I'm-undepressed, by taking Velma to the park. I brought The Hobbit.

When we arrived at the park, it seemed fairly empty so I decided it was okay to let her off. I unclasped Velma's leash and watched as she took off, running around the grassy area in crazy circles. She stopped at a tree and barked. And barked. Thinking it was just a squirrel, I ignored her and went to sit on a bench.

When she didn't stop barking, I looked up and saw that it was not a squirrel in the tree, but a person. A boy, maybe about my age, to be specific.

He was nestled in in the crook of the tree's branches, his legs dangling carelessly, just out of Velma's reach. He saw me watching and grinned. He gracefully jumped to the ground, his feet hitting the moist earth with a soft thump, and begun walking toward me.

Thinking he was coming to talk to me, I quickly opened my book and tried to look like I was very, very occupied. When I looked up next, he was far away, on the other side of the park. God, I'm such an idiot.

I suddenly realized I didn't see Velma. "Velma. Velma!" I shouted, standing up and turning around in circles, looking for her.

I finally spotted her on the other side of the park, running after a ball. A ball he had thrown. Too anxious to confront him, I glared at him from behind a tree, watching him and Velma.

He was laughing, but from afar it kind of looked like he was suffucating. He kept laughing, like he literally couldn't stop. The wind even carried a few laughs to me. He must have liked dogs. Velma had retrieved the ball and was bringing it back to him.

He took the ball from her jaw and affectionately pet her smooth head. As he threw the ball again, I saw the taut muscles of his arms and shoulders. I ducked behind the tree and opened my book, smiling.

"Hi."

I looked up, my eyes widening. I had been so engrossed in my book, I had kind of forgotten about the boy. I scrambled to my feet, accidentally dropping my book.

The boy was watching me curiously while I tried to stand up, tripping over my feet. I could feel my cheeks flushing. I gulped.

Velma stood by the boy, staring up at me, incomprehending, her doe-eyes locked on my face. The boy also had doe-eyes and was staring at me with a similar look of curiosity and incomprehension as Velma.

Wow. Did I really just compare this boy to my dog? "Um, hi," I stuttered.

"This is your dog, right?" he asked, still smiling. He knelt to stroke Velma. She panted and gazed up at him happily. Traitor.

"Uh, yeah," I said, wincing. My heart was beating so hard, I genuinely wondered if he could hear it.

"She's awesome," he told me, grinning so infectiously that I almost grinned, too. Almost.

"Thanks," I said, then added, "her name's Velma."

"Like from Scooby Doo?" he asked me, his grin widening to the point where it was ridiculous.

"Yeah," I said, and let out a short, awkward chuckle. "I was a big fan when I was little." I still am.

"I am, too," he said.

I raised my eyebrows, silently questioning his use of present tense.

He just smiled at me and said, "Mysteries never get old. It's like a Stephen King novel with an awesome dog that eats waaaaay too many pot brownies."

Then I laughed, actually laughed. "Oh yeah. That's the only difference."

He looked surprised, probably at hearing me say more than one word. "Is that The Hobbit?" he asked, eyeing the book by my feet.

"Yeah," I said, blushing, not because I was embarrassed to have been found reading The Hobbit, but just because I was a blush-y type of person.

"Awesome," he remarked, and bent down to retrieve it. Straightening up, he flipped the book over in his hands and scanned over the front matter.

"Sure, go ahead," I muttered sarcastically under my breath.

I hadn't thought he'd heard me, but apparently he had. He raised his eyebrows and handed it back to me silently. I felt bad, but figured he wasn't bothered because his grin was still in tack.

I snatched up the book and held it against my chest, unconsciously craddling it. "I―I should probably go," I said quietly, jingling Velma's leash. Her ears perked up and she jumped on me, her muddy paws leaving prints on my jeans.

"Sure," he said, retreating, taking casual backward steps. "See you around...?"

"Um, Eleanor," I told him. "And you are?"

"Elliot," he said, still smiling (Christ, was there ever a time when this kid wasn't smiling?). "See you around, Eleanor." And then he was walking away, his back turned to me.

"Bye," I said, my ragged breaths finally slowing as I leashed Velma and led her out away from this Elliot, and out of the park.