names

"What's your name?"

She smiled her delicate smile, the one he noticed looked so fragile that a simple poke could break it into millions of pieces. He also noticed the way she constantly had to tuck her bangs behind her ears (even though they were far too short to even stay).

"Names don't really matter." She shrugged, turning her head to lock her eyes on the sky above them. And, oh, her eyes—he really couldn't forget about those. There was different colors of brown pieced together around the center of them, creating a barrier he really wished he could get permission to pass.

"They matter to me," he tried, his hand slowly and cautiously inching towards hers. The boy's fingertips tickled at the prickly grass beneath them, but he stopped right before his skin touched hers. He would wait.

"Oh?" She moved her gaze back on the boy beside her, the crinkle he oh-so-loved forming between her eyebrows as they knitted together in curiosity. "Why would names matter to anyone?"

"Names are a way of life," he answered, giving her a small smile before glancing towards the sky. "Without them, we wouldn't really know each other."

With the lingering silence that followed, he had a hunch that she was thinking over his opinion, and all the while the birds chirped and the trees swayed, the wind whistled and the bees zoomed by. His hand sometimes accidentally bumped hers when he shifted, causing him to draw in a sharp breath every time. He itched to just wrap his long fingers around her palm, but he knew it would be wrong.

"But without names, we don't have titles. And without titles, we can just know each other from what's important," she finally answered, feeling proud of herself for backing up her opinion just as greatly as he did.

"Like what?"

"Like, take us for example," she smiled fondly, eyeing the puff of clouds swirling around above her. "If someone walked by, they'd know us as the two kids who lay in the yard."

He felt like howling with laughter at her response, but simply chuckled lightly at the idea. He was sure that was probably correct, but he still needed to know her name. Without it, he wouldn't be complete. Lying in her yard every day with her wasn't going to be as fulfilling without it.

"But don't you think they'd like to know our names so that they can complain to our parents or yell at us to get up?"

She smiled once more and nudged his side with her elbow, giggling just a little. "Well, maybe," she said with a sigh, "but how do you see me? If I didn't have a name, how would you see me?"

His brain was building up nerves, telling him maybe it was his time to just come out and say it. He took another route, though. "How do you see me?"

Their heads both turned and their eyes both met. Her lips were tan and thin, and as they moved in that slick way they always did, he watched them as she spoke.

"I know you as my neighbor, the boy with shaggy hair the color of a milk chocolate bar with almonds and brown eyes like me," she paused, her face erupting into a grin, "and I know you as the boy who works at the boutique down town."

His cheeks sparked at the last part, hating how she even remotely remembered seeing him in his pink work shirt. The rest of the description was okay, and it warmed his heart a little at how she described exactly how she saw his hair. It was kind of like how he saw her in so much beautiful detail. She at least had one little thing she liked about him.

He cleared his throat, stuffing his hands in his pockets, maneuvering his hands through the crumpled up paper jammed deep in the contents of his jeans. They were dried up and probably got washed with the pants, but that seemed reasonable. It was from last Friday when he wanted to write a note to her, but over and over again he gave up.

"I know you as my neighbor, the girl with dark curls that look like black liquorish and eyes like me," he sputtered out, taking in a deep breath before continuing, "and the girl who likes to lay in her yard and stare at the sky, and the girl that no one knows because she's homeschooled, and the girl with beautiful eyes, and—"

"Wait," she interrupted, narrowing her eyes in confusion. "You said something about my eyes twice."

He pursed his lips and didn't dare turn his head, for he was too afraid to look into said eyes. Maybe he was hoping he could get out the part where he's had a crush on her since she moved in, but just maybe she knew and she stopped him before he could. That thought tore the edge of his heart, but he finally spoke up.

"Yes," he replied.

He could feel her gaze on him, and it was intense. It was like she was picking apart the calm exterior he slipped on before stepping out his front door, but he could be wrong. He just couldn't dare test the theory.

"So, names aren't that important then?"

"I guess not."

She got up, so he did, too. She dusted off her bottom before smiling, her dimples deepening and her lips sinking beneath each other. He returned it the best he could, both saying their goodbyes before heading to their doors. He walked towards the red one, and she skipped towards the yellow one.

Before he could take the first step onto the welcome mat, his ears perked at the sound of her sweet voice floating over.

"Ava."

He whipped his head to the side, furrowing his brows in confusion. "What?"

The porches were separated by a group of short hedges, but he saw her peek her head back from inside and give him a smile he hasn't seen before. It was more subtle than anything he's seen her wear, from her quirky and bright clothes to her lollipop and carefree attitude.

"My name—it's Ava."

He grinned just then, ruffling his hair in sheer excitement at the sound of her words.

"I'm Seth."

The smile stayed as she went back into her house, leaving him standing like an idiot on his front porch. He couldn't really help himself but laugh out of joy, plopping down onto a lawn chair.

He knew her name, at last.

~*~

i did this out of boredom woops

well hope you liked it aha. x