Someday

Year 9, Day 82

A/N: Because this chapter is all about the perfect day, I'd love to know about yours too. What is a perfect day for you?

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7 chapters to go, happy reading guys!

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What's the perfect day?

Mine started with a pancake breakfast mom made. We sat outside, enjoying the breeze, talking and laughing. Bobby kept looking at all three of us weird because we laughed at everything, including his lack of humor. After awhile,  his laugh was the loudest out of all of us.

Nine years and I still loved his laugh most of all.

After breakfast, Bobby took my hand, and asked, "Walk to the park with me?" 

It was a short distance, a five-minute stroll maybe, so I nodded yes. The park was our second favorite childhood getaway, but we outgrew it - the playground, the people, and for awhile, each other. A year ago, we found our way back.

 Here, we let lose. We're seven again - happy, free and together. 

I wonder why people crave 'more' when they can have this. What was with 'more' that's better than happy?

I made my way to the old swing; this was my favorite here. Bobby used to push me so high up I could see my mom gardening or Mr. Stable walking his dog. Years ago, I asked Bobby to come try and sit on the swing while I pushed him, but he wouldn't budge. Every time we came to play, he'd let me sit and have fun while he gave me a boost each time. I didn't think it was fair, so I kept whining.

After a long afternoon of asking him why over and over again, he finally responded, "What if you get tired?"

"Well, you never did." He was being silly, right? 

"But pushing you is easy. You're not heavy, Will."

"Neither are you."

"I will be, after awhile."

"Okay, what do you do when I get heavy?"

"You don't."

I rolled my eyes, and Bobby knew that meant that he should still answer my question.

"Fine, I'll probably rest then come back." 

With that response, I smiled. "See? I will too. Even if I get tired, Bobby, I'll always come back and push you."

Thinking back, Bobby was always scared I'd get tired of playing with him or hanging out by the fence. He always asked if I was bored or offered to do whatever I wanted instead. Even on that swing, he was willing to keep pushing me without asking to try it himself. Now, I realized Bobby flinched at every good deed anyone wanted to do for him because he never had that at home nor did he think he deserved it. The closest he got to a family that loved him was Austin, and Bobby's mom kicked him out. 

At seven, he thought I'd leave to.

I spent the last nine years proving him wrong. 

The rest of the morning was spent with burgers and fries in our favorite diner then the afternoon at an arcade where he kicked my ass in air hockey. To be fair, anyone would. I sucked.

After a few hours, we decided to walk back to the park before we went home. We laid on the grass, watching the starless sky. It might rain tomorrow, but at least we had tonight. 

In the last nine years, I learned that Bobby was only quiet for one of two reasons: first, I was talking, and second, he was thinking. Since we'd both been quiet for the last half hour, I'd say he was deep in thought.

"Will," he asked, then paused, mulling over his words. 

Called it! 

Classic, deep-in-thought Bobby chose his words very carefully.

"Huh?" I kept it short, so he'd continue.

"Do you think we're meant to be someone?" 

"Yeah, us."

"I mean-" He tried to continue, but I already saw the wheels turning in his head. I needed to end his doubts before he drowned in them again.

"I know what you mean." I sighed and continued, "We're meant to be us, no one else, not loving anybody else."

Meaning  to reassure him more, I turned on my side to face him. There was no need for words though, not with his lips on mine.

This, today was the perfect day.