When She Swings

This is a short story that i wrote for one of my friends. I based this off one of her paintings which i will put on the side so you can see it. A lot of her paintings and drawings inspire me so i'll probably be adding some more short stories later on. I hope you guys like this and please comment what you think.

When She Swings

“You’re such a wimp, Trevor. You used to want to race me all the time! Of course, I’d still win, but at least you tried back then.”

            “Well maybe I don’t want to lose anymore. Besides, Lana, I told you I sprained my ankle. I can’t go much faster!”

            Ugh, he is such a whiner. When did he get to be such a complainer? He never used to be. Back then he was always so eager for adventure and fun. Back when…

            A gust of wind rushes down the steep grassy hill that Trevor and I are climbing. I feel my bright red curly hair blown out behind me as I rock back from the force and then lose my footing. My foot slips on the slick grass and I stumble back, falling hard into Trevor’s chest. I hear him give a little ‘oomph’ from the impact, and then we’re falling back.

            I let out a shriek, which is abruptly cut off as we both hit the ground hard. We’re a tangle of arms and legs, and then we’re rolling. I’m afraid we’re going to keep rolling all the way down the hill, but thankfully, there was a level patch of ground and Trevor and I are able to stop ourselves before we reach the next drop off.

            “Uh, ow!” Trevor lies on his back next to me, staring up at the sky, stunned.

            Groaning, I roll over onto my side to look at him. “I’m sorry,” I reply meekly.

            Trevor glances over at me, the corners of his mouth lifting, letting me know he holds no grudge against me. “It’s alright, Lana,” he lets out a groan of his own and brings his hand up to feel the back of his neck. “I’ll just take a back massage as an apology.”

            Letting out a snort of contempt, I whack him on his shoulder. “Ha! You’ll take what you get, Connelly.” Rolling to my back again, I heave myself back to a standing position.

            “Ooh, referring to last names now, huh? Okay, Sky, we can play that game.” Trevor smirks at me as he sits up.

            “Yeah, Fringe Boy, let’s play that game,” I flick Trevor’s long brown bangs that are hanging in front of his eyes. “Hmm, I wonder who’s going to win. Oh, right, I know. It’ll be me.” I lean down to bring my eyes level with his chocolate brown ones and give him a confident stare.

            “Okay, okay,” Trevor nods his head as if in agreement- to what I’m not sure, because he would never accept defeat before the game had even started. “How about a race, for old time’s sake?” There’s a glint in his eyes, and I’m not quite sure what it means, but I can never back down from a challenge.

            Standing straight again, I give Trevor a dubious look. “I thought you said you sprained your ankle?”

            Trevor rests his forearms on his knees before looking up at me through his bangs with a sly smirk. “Well, that fall must have cured my injury.”

            “That doesn’t even make sense, Trevor. That’s the opposite of what a fall would do!” I try to keep a serious expression, but I can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous his excuse is.

            “Ah, nature is a mystery, my friend.”  He smiles at me before sticking his hand out. “So what about it? Help me up and we’ll race.”