Waiting For Us [COMPLETED]

chapter 38 - you and me

Talia:

"Why are we at our old elementary school?"

My question doesn't spark any verbal answer, only Grayson's exit from the interior of the car. I'm left sitting in my seat, fidgeting with my fingers—a nervous habit that I just remembered I have. The passenger's side door swings open and he holds out his hand to help me out. I could decide to be petty and refuse his help due to him not answering, but his vacant expression stops me from doing so. His hand is clammy when I clasp it, something that makes me even more nervous. It's obvious he is nervous about something, too.

I want to ask my question again, but Grayson then begins leading us down a path around the school. It takes shuffling through my memories to remember this is the way to the playground where I spent every recess as a kid.

A shiver runs down my arms from being exposed to the night's cool temperatures. As if that's the only possible thing for Grayson to react to, he shrugs off his suit's jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. The heat from the clothing helps immediately, and I can't help but notice how his scent that still clings to the jacket reduces my nerves. I also can't help but notice how his white dress shirt clings to his muscled frame.

"Thank you," I say, looking up at him.

We stop in front of the playground's swing set and he leans forward to kiss my forehead. Again, there is no verbal response. I melt into him, despite the pressing urges to ask every single blossoming question on my mind.

Why are we here?

Why are you being so distant?

Why won't you tell me why I'm different from everyone else?

"Sit over here," he finally says, his voice deep, demanding, and delicate—all at the same time.

He guides me by the small of my back to the swing second from the left. Once I'm safely seated, he hesitantly walks away from me after blowing out a heavy breath, which makes me want to hold and comfort him because of how troubled he sounds. It takes everything in me to remain seated and not chase after him to do just that.

Grayson walks into the field adjacent to the playground, searching for something. He squats down and finds what he was looking for.

Another memory sparks in my mind from when I was younger. In that field I would run around with my friends, and would constantly stop to stare at all of the scattered wildflowers. I liked to pick and hog them, creating my own personal bouquet. I hated sharing.

My boyfriend walks back, and I watch him the whole way until he's right in front of me. I hold the chains of the swing and rock back-and-forth, tilting my head up, awaiting a much needed explanation.

He holds out a flower. A daisy to be exact.

When my body doesn't respond in any way, he pushes the flower closer to me. "Here," he says.