For 12 years, Ethan Fletcher has been the annoying, chaotic boy next door and brother to Kira's best friend... and she hated him... at least, she thought she did.
This story is about becoming friends and falling in love one fond memory at a time...
"Looks like chocolate," Ethan says, crouching to touch a patch of dried mud, and for a second, I think he might try to taste it. It is Ethan, after all. He doesn't, though; instead, he lies down on his stomach, positioning my phone at an angle that cannot be comfortable for him to hold it in and snaps some pictures.
He is right; the drying top layer of the section of the mudflats that has been baking in the sun is cracked into almost symmetrical squares, causing it to look vaguely chocolaty and edible.
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"Or like really dark fudge," he grins, looking up at me from his awkward position at my feet.
"Will you stop with the fudge already?!" I laugh, shaking my head. The guy has been hinting like crazy every chance he gets.
"But I was promised fudge, and I'm clearly not getting any yet," he sulks, making me laugh again.
"I promised the fudge to your rugby rival, not to you!" I point out, and now he's making a cute grumpy face that reminds me of a much younger Ethan, complaining because Delia won't share her cheese crackers with him. Come to think of it; I always see that face right before I give him my last cheese cracker... or whatever snack we're having.
That face is evil!
"If you give him fudge, I'll release all the prisoners you keep in your fish pond."
I roll my eyes. He knows that the reptiles living in and around our pond are not prisoners. They are free to leave if they want to; they choose to stay. I didn't even invite most of them.
"I've told you two thousand, nine hundred, seventy-three point-five times already to bring me some butter and condensed milk, and I'll make you some friggin' fudge," I sigh, wandering off to where the wet mud begins.
Well, I've told him at least once...
Ethan has really surprised me today. When I come across interesting patterns in the mud made by birds walking on it, by snails tunnelling down into it or by the wind and water playing over its surface, I take pictures of it. I enlarge, print and frame the best ones to add them to my growing collection of beautiful eco-system-related artworks on my bedroom wall.
He took my phone from me when I was getting ready to take my first picture today, and before I could protest, thinking he was being a pest again, he pulled off his black t-shirt, threw it at me and lay down in the mud, tilting the phone at unexpected angles to take some really awesome pictures.
He has a good eye when it comes to composition and lighting. He has always loved photography and has been lamenting not bringing his camera and lenses along today. He even talked about coming again soon to use them here, and he wasn't being sarcastic at all. He is truly getting into the spirit of things, and I don't know if he's just trying to be "the best boyfriend ever" or if he's really inspired by the rather desolate beauty around us. Probably both. I'm rather thrilled by the pictures he's taken so far. I don't generally roll around in the mud to take mine. His efforts are paying off.
