I'm Scared of Heights | ONC 2023 ✔️

10) Without A Cloud

Natalie

Winn regards me with a grin that would throw most boneheads into a state of ease. Now, his gaze does everything but that.

Sid's chipper voice doesn't register in my ears. His words blur into a glob of something useless and incoherent, unlike how Winn's mere movements unbalance a scale in my brain. The tips of his fingers massage the base of his neck, and his shoulders stiffen. I catch his eyes when he peeks past Sid and his tirade against Star Wars. Even through the watery glazed look in his eyes, I can tell one thing, Winn wants to talk.

"So, why are you guys at the park?" Winn questions, rubbing his eyes once more. "I thought you were going to the library."

Sid's head bobs violently. "We were, but then we started walking, and now we're here!" He peeps at his phone. In turn, his shoulders tense as he pushes his glasses further onto his freckled nose, fumbling with his phone. "My mom's in the hospital. I got to go. Now!" Sid blurts. "Catch you on the flip side, guys!" Spinning on his heels, he jogs the concrete path, his hands cutting across his body frantically.

The likelihood Sid will sprain his ankle with that form is nine out of ten. He is destined to join his mother in the hospital.

My chest deflates when I shift my eyes to Winn. The moment in my brain is still like ice, a solid, frozen in fixation. Even if not in-depth or to a level of profound emotion, I want to talk too. Or maybe not about problems, a mindless nonsensical chat.

My lungs pump in rapid movements. "I shouldn't have walked out like that," I start before Winn can mention that rabid evening. "You were attempting to help me. Despite my actions, I do appreciate your efforts. I'm sorry I was so curt with you." I take a step closer. "Don't say it's alright," I interject as he opens his mouth. "I should have at least thanked you for the slushie or the note or even checking on me."

Winn raises his head and brings his eyes level to mine in a sweeping motion.

"Thank you for your apology." He tilts his head and raises a brow. "Though I don't feel like one was necessary."

"I've avoided you for two days," I state, deadpan. My gaze trails to the collar of Winn's solid white tee in remembrance of Friday's happenings.

"Oh, so I haven't?" His chest rattles, and he sports a grin. The way his eyes remain light amazes me, as always. No matter the situation, Winn always, almost always, is smiling.

My brows shoot up as I reply, "You were being a considerate human being." Perhaps you're one of the only oxygen-breathing creatures I would make that claim for. "I should have asked to talk sooner."

Winn's nose scrunches, and his brows furrow. "Did you want me to be mad at you or something?" he questions, his mouth slacking. "Because, well, that part I wouldn't understand." He rubs his brow and swallows an evident lump in his throat.

I begin to object but stop myself. "You're too nice," I say instead.

"That doesn't answer the question." Winn crosses his arms over his chest, his brows forming a familiar "v" shape. "Let me rephrase. Did you want me to not forgive you? Or like ghost you for millennia?"

My eyes float to the sky, clear without a cloud blocking the azure blue. Though the sun is a different story, puffs pass over the ball of gas, shadowing the earth. "I don't know," I murmur after raking a hand through my hair.

The tip of Winn's nose points to the skies as he speaks, "It's easier to forgive than to hold grudges y'know. Even when there's no real forgiving to be done." Nature agrees with his statement. The accumulation of gaseous substances drifts past the sun, letting the ball of gas rain light upon the wasteland of a park. Winn continues, "Sometimes, it's easier to let go and stop hating. Y'know, to stop hating anyone, including yourself or things you can't control." The softness of his hazel orbs brushes mine, bringing warmth and airy light closer to the ground, a level safe enough to touch.

Resisting the temptation my brain offers-the opportunity to divulge into an endless rabbit hole of numbing intellections-I manage a two-word reply, "That's thoughtful." A gust of wind rustles my hair and bristles the leaves of a dozen trees.

Winn wryly smiles. "I can be more than the amicable funny guy." His voice is different, raw, exactly like that night in November. The night when the stadium lights blazed, and the tumultuous crowd raged will forever be stamped into my memory, not because of the forty-two to seven defeat, but because Winn slapped a new layer into my day.

My lips twist into an arc. "There's no doubt." You are more than just an "amiable funny guy".

"No doubt about what?" He grins, bumping my arm.

"That you hide a lot," I state before I can stop myself. With the words now in the world, I continue without hesitation, "People who are 'open' often have more to hide than a stoner in the back of the room, proving openness can be deceiving of other qualities."

Winn visibly chokes on thin air. The steady rise and fall of his chest slacks into a barely running sprinter. "We all hide one way or another," he whispers, not bothering to clear his throat. "It's interesting how that works."

"Hiding is a learned behavior." I hold his gaze. "Psychologically, it's a protection mechanism."

"Sometimes, hiding isn't a bad thing." Winn sighs, running a hand over his face, momentarily letting his face go slack. He blinks rapidly, further drying his eyes of water.

"I never said it was." I take a step closer, scanning his face once more. His smile falters as if it got its foot caught on a hurtle or ran out of bounds. Social cue, I remind myself, tugging at my sleeve. His face only falls further. I clear my throat. "I never got to ask. Why are you here?"

Winn beams. "I'm chillaxing and reminiscing a bit before I head to the fair. The park's the bomb diggity."

"The what?" My mouth parts, forming a microscopic curve.

"Y'know, awesome, cool, amazing, incredible." I meet his gaze no longer lurking out of bounds, but in, playing forward.

"I'm aware of the definition. Though," I pause, "I didn't know you used that terminology." I want to laugh at the way his hazel eyes seem lighter and how he sweeps his right hand wide when he names each adjective. "or that you liked this park," I finish, rejecting my grimacing expression. The park is a wonder to be liked with undernourished grass and city sewage polluting the air like infatuation to all "love".

"You're the bomb diggity too, y'know," Winn rasps, softly smiling. His shoulders angle inwards as he inclines his head nearer, setting his eyes on mine.

"You're fly." I raise a brow. With the small gesture, my body feels lighter as if a weight has been lighted off me. If anything, the warmth of his eyes heats my soul, making me rise higher as the temperature increases. I can only blink. How hard was that? I didn't even do anything. Was I procrastinating for nothing? Perhaps. I am insane.

Thinking of a proper reaction, I laugh a little. "I should like leave." I glance west, coming face to face with the setting ball of gas. "Peace out." Raising a peace sign, he mimics me, sticking his middle and pointer up.

"I'm gone." Winn chuckles, stepping back. His jaw twitches. "Don't you like love 90's slang?" he asks while laughing, releasing the phrase in spurts.

I smile, still warm under his gentle stare. "Definitely."

Winn's Chesire grin never falters. "Hella cool, cat."