The Boy in the Park

Chapter 2

The next morning, I was up at 10 once again, thanks to my mom. And once again, I was tired as hell. You would think I would learn and stop staying up so late, but one video turned into another, and before I knew it, it was 4 am.

But this time, I wasn't dreading having to go outside. I was kind of looking forward to it.

The weather was great, and this time I put some more effort into my appearance. I put on a bit of mascara, some lip balm (my lips were getting extremely chapped), and since I took a shower yesterday, my hair was not gross. I put my long wavy dark brown hair into a loose side braid. The shorter layers of my hair fell around my face, which annoyed me, but I gave up a long time ago trying to get them to stop doing that.

I wore some denim shorts and a lacy white top. I wanted to look better than I did yesterday, but not like I was trying to hard. Hopefully, I accomplished that.

Before I left, I walked into my older brother's room in the basement.

"GET UP FUCK FACE!" I screamed. I was in a good mood today, and if I had to get up at 10, I wasn't going to go down alone.

My brother started mumbling and rolled over, off his bed, and onto the floor.

"OW! FUCK YOU!" He screamed. Me and my brother, Jake, were pretty similar in terms of our tendencies to swear.

Smiling, I walked upstairs. Mission Accomplished. I walked into the kitchen, put a pop-tart into the toaster, and put on my beat up converse shoes while eating it. Man, pop-tarts are heaven. I opened the door, and walked out into the outdoors.

It was the same routine as yesterday. Headphones in, music on, and the walk seemed like nothing.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit excited to see the guy again. I know, I know, he probably wasn't going to be there anyways. I mean, he walked his dog yesterday, but who's to say he's gonna do it again today, at the exact same time, at the exact same place. There was just no chance. I had to try not to get my hopes up. Because hope breeds eternal misery.

But even as I thought that to myself, I couldn't help but start coming up with a bunch of what if scenarios.

But what if he was there?

What if he showed up at the same time because he wanted to see me just as much as I wanted to see him?

So, even though I told myself not to hope, I did anyways. Why? Because I'm an idiot.

Once again, I was at the familiar park.

Today, there was a couple more people. There was a family: a mom, dad and 2 children. A little boy and a little girl. They were playing in the sandbox in the corner. I smiled. I love children. I remember when I was younger and babysitted for money. The children I babysitted were usually always super cute and although sometimes temperamental, were usually sweet and easy to take care of. Oh, those were the days.

The guy wasn't at the park yet, and I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, but I just sat on the bench and tried to shake myself out of it.

Today, I decided I just wanted to read. I was at a good part of my book at the moment, and I couldn't wait to get to the end of it. I shifted on the wooden bench and tried to make myself more comfortable. Within minutes, I was sucked into the alternate world of the book.

The wind blew the layers of hair around my face around, and made the leaves make a nice rusting sound. I realized that I should come here more often. It was like a getaway, like a place where I could get away from everyone and all the text messages or Instagram updates. Sometimes I just needed to get away from all of that.

4 Chapters later, I heard a dog barking somewhere close by, and that was all it took to break my concentration with the book and look up.

The guy was back! I would be lying if I said I wasn't happy. He was walking his dog again. He was further away this time, and he looked damn fine. His hair was messy and it was being blown in the wind, but it looked good (why can't my hair do that!). I allowed myself to study this stranger a little bit more this time. His jawline and cheekbones were crazy defined, but my favourite part about him was his eyes, for sure.

Once again, we made eye contact. This time I smiled and waved. He smiled back and I just felt so... happy. Maybe we could be friends or something.

Soon everyday we settled into this routine. I sat on the bench and sketched or read, he showed up and we acknowledged each other, while staying separate. We ever once talked. He walked his dog, and left, I read and when I was done, I left as well. There was nothing more than just friendly acknowledgement, but it still ended up being one of the highlights of my day, and something I looked forward to.

Everyday we went through this routine, until one day something changed.

————

I was sitting on the bench, sketching, when I felt someone sit down next to me. I looked up, startled. I was used to routine, and this was a change to that routine. I looked up. I thought I knew who it was, but I had to make sure.

There he was. The guy I'd been seeing every morning for the past 2 weeks was finally sitting next to me. I didn't know how I felt about this. I obviously felt happy. Super happy. He must not think I'm repulsive if he came to sit by me, right? Right? Or maybe not. Was he sitting here because he wants to sit here, or because we've been seeing each other for the past 2 weeks and he's trying to be polite but doesn't actually want to be anywhere near me?

Why did he sit by me?

Does this mean he's going to talk to me?

Will we date?

What did all this mean?

I was starting to become obsessive (it was a pretty bad habit of mine), so I did the thing I do best. Distracting myself by doing something else. In this case, sketching again.

He looked over at what I was drawing, and I started being nervous. What if he thought I sucked at drawing? What if he was judging me for sitting here and drawing instead of being on my phone and checking snapchat like a normal 16 year old? Did I look okay? Was my hair frizzing up again?? Oh no, did the smudged graphite on my hand make me look weird?

I turned my volume up again, and turned back to my work. I told myself that if he wanted to talk to me, he would.

And although this new routine was foreign to me, and to him, we eventually settled into this new way of doing things, this new way of doing our own things while still being connected. And although it scared me how dependant I was on seeing him, I loved every second of this new routine.