One Shots

Wild Love Stories

At least once in your lifetime I think you're allowed to have that once romance with that one guy who you know is just going to break your heart no matter what you do, or how you dress, or what you say. The one that you crush on for days on end before he notices, and asks you out. The one who when he first kisses you its like a drug, and its addictive, and you can't get enough of it. The guy that you ditch all your friends for, who is totally a bad influence, and you know it, and you don't care. Who takes you on adventures, and makes your mundane world amazing, but in the end you just know you can't hold onto him, and so when he breaks your heart, you just accept it, and hope that in the end you left some kind of mark on his mind.

For me that guy was Hayden Daze. I crushed on him the whole of the tenth grade. His golden blonde hair, that looked like it had been dip dyed in the sun, eyes that were the same colour as the ocean our whole world was backed on. The kind of guy that only spoke with people when it was absolutely necessary, but always had a glint behind his eyes like he was holding back some big secret. The minute he asked me on a date, I was in love, and what followed was a summer of hiding out in the dune grasses at midnight, skinny dipping, and kisses that made my head spin so fast I could barely keep track of where my lips were.

His family had been new to the Island, and he was a completely different specimen of boy, from the ones I usually dated. He wasn't someone I'd known forever, or a University guy who could hardly take a relationship with a high school girl seriously. He had dreams in his eyes, and a wild spirit about him that wrapped me up and never let me go. I lost my virginity that summer, I found adventure too. Every minute I spent locked in his arms, with his fingers running through my tangle of ruddy, bright, brown curls, with his lips counting the freckles on my pale skin with kisses, was way worth the heartbreak I felt when he left. The nights we spent hiding out on my Dad's boat with bags of Fuzzy Peaches, and bottles of Raspberry Cordial made up for the nights I spent afterwards alone in my room watching old cartoons in a kind of zoned-out state.

I had known that we wouldn't stay together. Couples that stayed together have more solidity to their relationship, and ours was made up of spontaneity instead. I remember that evening, watching the sunset on the red tipped cliffs behind my house. I even remember the exact dress I was wearing, the new blue one from Charlottetown, with the lace. I remember my bare feet, that had a layer of red dirt permanently absorbed on to the bottom. I remember his hair, damp from a recent shower, and his dark green hoodie that smelled like wild strawberries. I remember the way he linked his fingers with mine, two tanned hands linking together. The way that the sun was melting into the water like a sugar cube, and the waves were sloshing onto the shore below us.

"I'm leaving," he said. I leaned back into his shoulder, not really caring, because I didn't want my perfect moment ruined. "Rilla? I'm leaving, like going to be gone leaving." He turned my chin to look up at his own with one hand then. I remember looking into those eyes, and just kind of feeling my heart plummet way down into a really scary, deep, dark place.

"I love you," I said. Wind blew a piece of hair into my face.

"I love you too." I had no answer for that. So I shrugged and turned back towards the sunset, refusing to cry.

"I'm not waiting around for you," I said.

Hayden chuckled, "I never expected you too." The quiet around us was deafening. I hadn't been lying when I'd said I wasn't going to wait. I remember exactly how real that revelation had felt, and how much I had wanted it to go away.

"Promise me one thing," I said. He nodded. "Remember me, okay?" He leaned down then, pressing his lips to mine. I wound my fingers around his neck, not wanting to let go. His hands moved along my body like he knew every part of it, which I guess he did. The kiss lasted for a long time, but not as long as I wished. Hayden pulled away first.

"I'm never going to forget that," he said. He left the next morning.

In the days that followed I didn't cry. I didn't throw away all his stuff. Instead I sat around in my bed, wearing one of his old sweaters, and stared at the wall like I didn't know what had just happened. Eventually I got out of my state. School started again, my friends were happy to have me back all to themselves. To most people Hayden was forgotten in the tumult of school, and homework, and soccer practices. Nobody quite remembered his timid smirk like I did, or his warm hands, and long lashes.

Surprisingly I got over him though. I dated Aidan from the track team who took me out to dinner, and bought me ice cream, and Michael from our local theatre school who played the guitar, and took me to drive-in movies where we had sex in the back seat of his green volvo. None of them compared to Hayden in some ways, and in other ways I loved them almost more. They were all good guys, who told me I was beautiful, and were nice to my younger sister, and bought my mom flowers, things Hayden had never thought of doing. In the end Hayden just became one summer romance in the scope of my life. My one crazy love that was destined to be amazing, but never work out. And I accepted that.