Stunned

 I lie by the stream, the dew from the rainwater on the grass soaking through my jeans. The tips of my toes dangle in the freezing water, and afternoon sun streams through the green, red, yellow, and orange leaves. Filtering onto my face, where I have an arm draped carelessly across my eyes. I start to hum tunelessly, and smile for no reason in particular.

I’d been coming here for as long as I could remember, really. I found it when I was six, and mad at my parents. I’d run out into our backyard… And just kept on running. It’s not far into the woods, but far enough so that my house disappears from view.

I flick my feet back and forth, sending droplets of water onto my face. I drop my arm by my side, and squint up at the treetops. Thinking about how if I could suspend this moment in time… I know I would.

Rustle. Snap. Rustle. Sigh. Snap. Rustle. I make the conscious decision to ignore it.

Rustle. Rustle. Getting closer, and closer… Until it’s in my ear. Until my sunlight is gone.

I open one eye. And involuntarily – the other one pops open. There is a boy standing over me. Around my age, I would assume. With just-woke-up light brown hair even though it’s late afternoon. With violet eyes flecked with hazel.

I sit up, and stare at him. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. I clear my throat. “Ah, can I help you?”

He chuckles. “Actually, yes, I think you can.” I raise an eyebrow. “I was hiking, and I’m a little disoriented now. Wanna tell me which way is out?”

A sigh slips out. “Right through there,” I say, pointing him in the right direction. “You were on the right track. Just keep on going.” As soon as it’s out of my mouth, I realize how hostile it sounds. But he did catch me a little… or a lot of guard. I’ve been coming out here for eleven or twelve years, and no one – I repeat no one has ever found me here. No one has ever casually walked in like this boy did. It’s annoying, because it’s my place.

The boy waves a hand in front of my face, and I turn to glare at him. He does a double-take and steps back awkwardly. Coughing self-consciously, he turns to leave. “Thanks,” he calls over his shoulder.

I sit there stunned.

I don’t even nod. I know I shouldn’t be this worked up. I know I shouldn’t overreact like this. I know it’s juvenile. But I can’t help it. Maybe growing up as an only child has its setbacks, like, maybe you don’t ever truly learn how to share. Well, it’s too late to teach me now. So, I swing my legs out of the creek, brush off my jacket, slip back into my Sperry’s and start back to my house.

***

“Honey, you have homework to do. And we have dinner guests tonight. When are you going to do it?” my mom asks the second I set foot in the foyer.

“It’s Friday. I have Saturday. And Sunday. I’ll get it done,” I say as I jog up the staircase to the second floor where my room is at the end of the hall.

I’m halfway down the hall when I hear my mom mumble something about how hard it is raising teenagers. Not nearly as hard as it is for Hazel’s mom, I think. Hazel is one of my best friend’s. She has a twin brother. One older sister, and two younger ones. They’re all less than nine years apart.

I get into my room, and change into worn, dark, and dry jeans. I shrug out of my jacket, and pull on a new white long sleeve. Grabbing my book, and iPod, I walk back down the hall and slide down the banister. Something I was banished from years ago, my mom claiming it would collapse and I would die in a shower of splintered wood and plaster. It’s never happened – and so, until it does, this is the way I’ll get down the steps.