Winning Skylinn

32

It was chilly, but I didn't care. I stood in the front yard, wearing a red sundress with thin straps. I was shivering from the February cold, but I ignored it. The moon was out, full and round. It seemed extra bright tonight.

I twisted the charm on my infinity necklace, trying to conjure up images of Denver. I could see it now. His soft green eyes. His wavy brown hair cut short for the military. That thought made me sad, so I erased it. I tried to imagine the Denver I'd met in high school, the one with thick hair and bright eyes, the one with hopes and dreams and a spectacular singing voice. That was my favorite version of him.

As soon as the memory of him was implanted in my mind, I stared up at the moon and stretched out one arm. I made a thumbs-up, and tried to "cover" the moon with my thumb.

I knew that somewhere across the country, on an army base not quite like my front yard, stood Denver, doing this exact same thing. Thinking of me.

I took that thought and carried it with me til, at last, I drifted off to sleep.

~~

I was waiting for the bus.

It was a nice day, not too far into April. I could've just walked home with Jonny, but he was staying for the school baseball game with some of his guy friends. He'd invited me to join but I just didn't feel like it. Even though I liked baseball, I just wanted to get home and read. I was in the middle of The Last Song by Nicholas Sparks, and I'd had to leave on a total cliffhanger! Sometimes I wished I could bring my book to school, but there was barely a free moment, other than lunch. And I really liked food, so I wasn't going to skip.

As I was thinking about all of this, I heard an unfamiliar voice say, "English."

"Hm?" I turned, and it was the new kid, the one who'd asked to borrow my pencil in class.

"We have English together, don't we? Mrs. Williams?"

"Oh. Yes, I think so." I gave him a friendly smile, feeling lucky that he would even think to talk to me.

"Right. I never did give you your pencil back."

"Oh, that's fine. You keep it."

"You sure?"

"It's just a pencil," I reminded him.

"Alright. I'll keep it, then. Since you insist." He grinned. Not missing a beat, he asked, "You're not staying for the baseball game?"

"No. Wait, you already know about that? Isn't this your first day?"

"I've switched schools a lot, so I'm good at figuring things out quickly. This school has lots of..." He searched for the right word.

"Spirit?" I suggested.

"Spirit, yes."

"So you're not going to stay for the game?"

"Eh, baseball's not really my thing. I'm more of a football guy."

I knew absolutely nothing about football, but I could picture him in a uniform, taking off his helmet and smiling at me from the field...

Oops. Maybe I got a little carried away.

"I never asked. What's your name?"

"Skylinn," I replied.

"That's a beautiful name," he said with a smile. "I'm Denver." We shook hands, but quickly. Still, I could tell he had a firm handshake. My dad had taught me to appreciate those.

"So, Skylinn, can I walk you home?"

"Sure. I'm just a few blocks down."

"No problem."

"So where are you from, originally? You said you've moved a lot," I asked as we headed down the sidewalk.

"Actually, I'm from here. Well, Pensacola, not Orlando. But I only lived her for two years before my parents moved us to North Carolina. Besides that, I've lived in Tennessee, Kentucky, Indiana, and even Missouri, but only for a couple months."

"Oh, wow! Your dad has a busy job?"

"Not really. They just like adventure. My mom has always loved to travel, and my dad appreciates a woman with goals. At least that's what he told me."

"That's cute."

"They are. I see them dancing in the kitchen sometimes and I just think, 'Wow, I hope I have that someday.' Aaaand I probably sound like a total dork right now."

"No, no, no! You don't. I'm kind of a hopeless romantic, so that stuff doesn't bother me."

"Okay. So I'm guessing you like chick flicks and all of that?"

"Very much."

"Favorite author? Wait, don't tell me. Nicholas Sparks?"

"How did you know?!" I gasped.

"Oh, this just won't do." He shook his head.

"What won't do?"

"I can't believe I have a crush on a girl with such cliché interests!"

My mind focused on that one word: 'crush.' I didn't care that he'd practically insulted me. All I cared about was that one word.

"You shouldn't be so hard on him, you know. He's a really good author."

"For a forty-year-old man!"

"Are you saying grown men can't write?"

"Well-no. I'm just saying-"

"What? That men know nothing about romance?" I interrupted, still just teasing.

"Oh, we definitely do."

"Then you should give him a chance."

"Fine. What's your favorite book?"

"I can't pick just one!" I really liked Dear John, except for the ending, but I'd only read it once, and that was about a month ago at the time.

"Are you reading one right now?"

"Yes. The Last Song."

"What's that about?"

"Young love-"

"Oh, here we go," he interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Just kidding. Go on."

"Thank you. It's about a rebellious teenager named Ronnie who has to go visit her dad, whom she hates. And her little brother goes with her. And while she's there, her brother bonds with the dad while she meets this guy, Will, and they fall in love and...yeah."

"So why is it called The Last Song?"

"Ronnie used to play piano, but she gave it up because it reminded her of her dad or something. Other than that, I don't know, because I haven't finished it."

"Well, Skylinn, I think I should read this book with the very confusing title."

"Really?" I couldn't hide my excitement-or shock.

"If you like it, then I'm willing to give it a try."

I smiled for what felt like the thousandth time that day, maybe even just in that past thirty minutes.

When we reached my house, he didn't waste any time saying goodbye. He didn't try to invite himself in, or get invited in. He just said, "See you around, Skylinn," and left.

For the rest of the day, I wondered why he hadn't asked for my number. He'd seemed so interested! He'd even agreed to read a romance novel! Surely it wasn't all in my head...