The Older We Get

Chapter 5

               As the wind blew over us, like a giant was whistling without the sound added, I felt my hair lift back when I pulled into a dead quiet part of town, Chandler by my side, staring out and grinning my way when he knew where we were, our favorite place to hang out and read books or something of that sort from so long ago, and I'm kind of losing my strength to keep up my own cheery face it's hurting my cheeks so much.

               "Recognize it?" I lift my eyebrows, popping my door to get out while Chandler unbuckles his slim waist and hurries to follow me, laughing whilst we both stare out into the darkness, some city lights far off in the miles, worlds away from Vernon, sparkles and reflects over a distant lake that after tons of pleas and begging sessions with one of our parents, used to indulge us with a trip there where I taught Chandler how to swim.

               This area was more or less a parking area for people going down to the public playground, swings, tube tunnel slides and monkey bars with bark scattered all around the area, under metal red painted ladders and other minimal play area benefits, where when we found ways to sneak out of the house-

               "Do you remember when we used to sneak out?" Chandler's eyes glow while we rest against my hood, feeling the heat from the engine on the back of my legs, side by side and I subconsciously steal a glance of him smiling, that dark hair all over the place, his pale skin that colors in the outline of that profile I can't help but adore, as well as those eyes which only grew in beauty... I bet he's gotten a lot of girlfriends with those eyes.

               Of course he would! He looks like a ladies man...I guess.

               Tch. Little punk. I bet his love life was way more successful than mine.

               Especially with those expensive looking clothes. They look like they should be on a runway or something. I never imagined Chandler in black skinny jeans or a long sleeved shirt with print on it.

               "Sage?" I look up, gasping when he's staring right at me, his attractive face eager for a reply and I subtly scoot more away, leveling out our distance to what makes me feel more relaxed.

               Oh, come on. He may be a bit weird, but it's Chandler, and I've always been 3 years older. I should act like it. Exert some self respect!

               "Mm. I remember. I was the one who taught you how to climb out of that tree."

               "You're giving yourself waaaay too much credit. I'm a guy after all. We were born knowing how to do crazy sh1t like that." He seems pleased with himself.

               "Like swimming?" I grin and his face drops. "I taught you that." My nose lifts up, and I see him staring at the ground, no expression on his face except for a hint of what looks like sadness. "Chandler?"

               "I want to check out the playground." My hands tangled in his, and just like the first time, as I'm being dragged off by my new found friend, I feel the difference in our hands, how even though his is soft, it's stronger by natural design, and it's way different to when I used to hold his fingers in mine years back. I just can't get over it. It's like he's a little project and has gone through some metamorphosis!

               Is that why he seems kind of masculine?

               Pretty sure if he was here all those years away, never left and stayed by my side, I wouldn't be so mind-screwed concerning the perks with growing up.