Re-Finding Steve

Change Is Scary

Chapter 1- Denver

               It has been a week since Dad dropped me off at School. Classes didn’t start until tomorrow, so all week I explored the school. All my classes were easy enough to find. The main cafeteria was in the very center of the school. My dorm was on the south side. Then I decided to explore for the sake of stumbling upon something unexpected. I found some of the best spots in school that way, as well as one hidden person.

               One of the unexpected things was a jogging trail. Today I didn’t feel like jogging, so I decided to hike the path as it ran along the river. The sun broke through the leaves, causing shadows and green hues to bounce off of every tree and rock. The water’s trickle had the most relaxing effect on me since stepping out of Dad’s truck.

               I really missed home. I missed my Dad, and my brother Salem. Yep, both my brother and I are named after cities. It was a pretty cheesy tradition from my mom’s side of the family. Her name was Sydney. I planned on continuing the tradition, sorry future children of mine. The thought of how my mom would have been happy about me continuing the tradition caused a smile to grace my lips.

               While continuing on with my thoughts about how much I missed my mom, I almost missed him. Not sure how I could of, since he didn’t blend into the natural scenery at all. His blonde hair and pale skin didn’t even get close to the dark brown bark and green bushes surrounding him.

               He sat on top of a large rock that could be called a boulder to some. The first impression from him was that he seemed sad. I could easily relate to that emotion. That’s when I started feeling lonely again. He didn’t seemed very focused on the sketch pad lying across his lap as he twirled the pencil in circles in his hand. It wasn’t like I was going to disturb him.

               Well one thing about Denver (yes I am talking about myself in third person, thank you) is that she was never afraid to make new friends.

               I knew he heard me walking up to him. I guess he could have assumed I would have just continued to walk right on by. But nope. I sat on the ground and leaned my back against his boulder like a chair. I then saw what he was sketching. This spot had a good view of a small embankment. The limbs crossed over it in just a way that allowed it to seem like a puzzle.

               I sat there for a while. It’s been a long time since I had to actually go out of my way to introduce myself, growing up in a small town in all. I’d known the same kids since we were all in diapers. So the first thing I did when meeting this new person, this complete stranger to me, was be painfully obvious and generic.

               “Hi, my name’s Denver.” I stated in a perky tone like it was my first day of kindergarten. Well this got his attention. He leaned forward to look down at me as I looked up. One of his eyebrows were raised in a questioning manner. I had to admit, he had some of the clearest blue eyes I had ever seen. This caused me to just smile up at him.

               “And you would be Mister…” I said, inclining for him to finish the sentence with a sideways wave of my hand.

               “Steve.” He said, as if questioning his own name.

               “Well hello Mister Steve. It’s nice to meet you. You new here too?” I asked, painfully trying to start a conversation.

               “Yes ma’am.” He said, looking as if he was trying to gage my reaction to this little tid-bit of knowledge.

               “Cool. Me too, though I was born and raised in the State, only a few hours away from here. Where are you from?” I asked, no longer looking up at him because I was getting a kink in my neck.

               “New York.” He said, seeming almost hesitant to answer.

               “Woah, well haven’t you gone a far ways away from home. So why come all this way for a small school like this? I bet there are plenty of school’s with similar art programs on the East Coast.” I asked, stretching my legs out in front of me.

               “I needed an escape.” Steve said. Underneath I could hear there was a lot more than just that but knew it wasn’t something he wasn’t even close to sharing from the tone in his voice. It was the same tone I carried when people asked about my Mom a few years back.

               “Well, Mister Steve, I believe you found your escape.” I said, gesturing towards the scenery around us. What was that? Did I just here a chuckle from the supposedly haunted man above me? Score one for Denver.

               “So, can I be your first West Coast buddy?” I asked in a joking manner.

               “I would be happy to have you as a ‘buddy’ Denver.” Steve joked right on back. So this guy had a bit of a humor, but it seemed to be rusty.

               “Ok, cool. I guess I have my first East Coast friend. So Mister Steve, wanna play random question game to not be complete strangers?” I asked.

               It took me a while to explain that random question game was basically what the name entitled. I asked a random question and we both answer it, then he asks the next question and so forth. My favorite color was royal blue while he liked red. His favorite Disney movie was Pinocchio while I like Hercules. My favorite breed of dog was golden retrievers where he didn’t know his. He preferred coffee while I like tea, further explaining that I only drank coffee when it was a bad day.

               “I’m already hyper enough. That extra caffeine is for when my spirits are down low. If I had it every day, I would be hoping around like a drugged up bunny.” I said, laughing with Steve as we were walking back to the main campus.

               Steve seemed small for his age, and half of me wondered if he was just sickly with how pale and thin he seemed. His head reached just past my shoulder. Maybe half of it was due to the fact that I have always been tall and tan myself. My Dad gave me my height, it wasn’t like I could fight genetics, and working on the farm natural made me darker skinned. In a few months, it would fade away anyhow.

               I started noticing Steve’s accent more and more as we talked. It wasn’t overpowering, but he would pronounce some words differently. I also noticed he seemed shy, as if it was taking everything he had to carry on a conversation with me when we first started talking. Luckily, that started to slip away as he became more comfortable with me.

               “Which Avenger is your favorite?” Steve asked, but no longer was his mood as care free as it was a moment ago. I paused to think for only a moment.

               “Captain America.” I answered.

               “Why?” Steve asked, seeming somewhat surprised.

               “Well, it seems like if I was in the invasion that happened in New York a few years back, he would be the one I would feel safe around. He just seems very protective and self-assured, kind of like my Dad. Does that seem weird?” I asked, looking down at Steve. He gave me a thoughtful look back.

               “No, it makes sense. He was my favorite too.” Steve said, and I didn’t notice how he said was and not is until I was lying on my bed that night.