What Do You Mean Internet Friendships Aren't Real?

Part Five - Eleanor

A few days before I went back to school, I took Velma to the park again. Upon entering the fenced area, I released Velma and let her run free. I did try to ignore it, but a tiny part of me was disappointed when there was no sign of a certain smiling boy. I sat down and opened The Hobbit―I was almost finished―letting my smooth brown hair fall in front of my face, creating a curtain between me and the world.

A sudden weight moved the bench and I started, looking up instantly. Elliot. Despite myself and my anxiety, I smiled a little. "You," I said dumbly.

"Hey, Eleanor," he said, then laughed. "Elliot," he clarified when he noticed the strange expression I wore.

I remembered his name, though. Of course I did. "Are you like, stalking me?" I asked, meaning it as a joke but it came off too serious.

His eyebrows furrowed adorably. "No," he said seriously. "I just come here often. I love the outdoors." Then he raised his eyebrows ridiculously high, and a mischievous grin played across his face. "Were you stalking me?"

"No!" I exclaimed, blushing furiously.

That mischievous grin remained. I was very careful to say 'a grin played across his face' and not 'his lips' because when Elliot smiled, it was with his entire face, not just his mouth. Sure, it may have been his mouth directing the action, but his whole face played along.

Velma had returned and she couldn't contain her excitement. She sprang at Elliot, pawing at his knees and begging for attention. He stroked her but kept his eyes focused on me. I blushed.

Awkwardly, I returned to my book. Then I forced myself to look at him, because it was the polite thing to do. I gave him a weak smile, trying to calm my uneven breathing.

It wasnt him, exactly, that made me nervous―I mean, I wasn't a prude (well, I kinda was but whatever), my social anxiety just made me uncomfortable in situations like this.

Velma was circling his feet, pawing insistently at his legs whenever he ceased petting her. "Hey," he said suddenly, brightly, turning to face me. "I brought something."

From a sack by his feet that I had never noticed, he produced a bright orange Frisbee and tossed it in the air.

"Show-off," I teased.

He grinned at me and, in a perfect arc, threw the Frisbee. It sailed gracefully through the air and landed on the opposite side of the park. Velma chased after it, her little legs carrying her as fast as they could.

"Eleanor, can I ask you something?" he asked.

I swallowed and nodded.

"Have you ever noticed how, at the core, dogs and people are the same?" he said, his blue eyes intent on mine.

Well, that was just bullshit. I watched Velma running after the frisbee, her eyes gleaming joyfully and her ears flapping in the wind. Then I thought of people and all the terrible people I knew. There must have been ten terrible people for every good person in the world.

So no. I didn't think dogs and people were anything alike, but I just shrugged.

"We're all just beings, one way or another. You know?" he said, looking at me thoughtfully, his eyes calm and lazy.

"I don't think so," I said. It was a miracle I was able to talk to him today without stuttering. I wondered if he was just asking me whatever to get me to talk, or if he was genuinely this interested in the similarities of dogs and humans.

He shot me a questioning look, the side of his mouth quirking up endearingly.

I closed my book and set it down, clearing my throat, and prepared to speak. Saying more than one sentence to a stranger was a big deal to me.