Kismet

---Extra Scene---

   Three weeks into Ethan and my relationship, we've become attached to each other. We've gone to the high school, too. He's in most of my classes, and sits by me every time. I've not really made any friends yet, Ethan being my only friend. I'm fine with that, because I'm not very sociable. I've noticed one thing today, that we've never said to each other.

   I love you.

   I guess it's partly my own fault, because well. . .  I've never actually said it to him either. When I go over to his house today (he said he needed to show me something) I'm going to tell him that. Hopefully I actually say what I've been thinking this time. But last time was nice, too, although I didn't say it. 

   I am eager to get into my parents' car and drive all the way down there. I hum happily to myself in the car to the band Fun.'s song, We Are Young. 

   I quickly hop out of the car when I arrive, and rush up to his door. I step onto the porch, brush back my annoying side bangs, and ring the doorbell. I wait, rocking back and forth on my feet. I wait for him to open the door, but nothing happens. I knock instead. No answer.

   "Over here!" I suddenly hear a shouting voice, and I turned, startled. Ethan was around the corner of the house, peeking his head around. I smile and hop down the porch, and around the yard to him.

   "Hey," I tell him, joining him by his side. No bow is in his hands or anything. "What did you want to tell me?"

   "Actually, it's what I want to show you," Ethan says, side-glancing at me. I narrow my eyes curiously. "It's over here."

    I follow him around the house, and across the yard. Then he turns into the forestry, stepping into it like it was a tall carpet into his room. I blink a few times, and then follow. Everytime I step into a forest I get shivers, even with Ethan near. But I manage to follow, putting my feet in his tracks. He had longer strides, but I keep him in sight.

   He stops to look over his shoulder. Wordlessly, he reaches out a hand behind his back. I smile a little, and take it, happy to have something to hold onto. Hand grasping mine tightly, he leads me farther into the forest.

   Suddenly the greenery opens up into a clearing. There was a large oak on the far side with loads of bushes and ferns surrounding the clearing, trapping us in like a bowl. I shiver and follow him, my feet happy to not have to step over branches and undergrowth. He walks over to the oak, which I now see has low branches-- small enough for a person to climb up.

   Ethan stops at the oak and stares up at it's branches. "Up you go." He leads me around to the front of him.

   "What?" I ask in surprise. "Climb it?"

   He nods. "Can you?"

   "I, uh, yeah I guess," I say, stepping forward. Even my short little legs could manage to get up this thing. I slowly put my foot into the lowest branch, grabbing hold of another branch jutting out from the trunk.

   Ethan puts a hand on my back. Not to push me up, but for more comforting.

   "I got it," I tell him. He lets go. I climb up, like I've been doing it for years. It seemed so natural to me. I easily make it up twenty feet when Ethan tells me to stop climbing.

   "Come up!" I call down, holding steadily onto a branch.

   "That was the plan," Ethan calls back up, not unkindly. He skimmed up faster than I'd ever be able to, and easily makes it by my side in less than thirty seconds. He sits on the same branch as me, and I have to scoot over on the high thick bench. I grab his hand, and stump of another fallen branch so I don't fall.

   "So. . ." I say, looking at him. He smiles and turns his head toward me. "What?"

   "What?" he asks back. 

   "What are you going to say?" I ask, chuckling.

   "Can't we have silence?" Ethan says, staring below us. I pinch my lips between my teeth, still staring at him. I can't get over how much he looks like he could pull a skate-board trick out of nowhere, with his handy dandy skateboard. His thick eyebrows and brown iris's catch in the freckled light coming through the leaves. His lower lip is thicker than his upper lip. He has a small scar on the side of his head, right near his ear. His forehead slants, his bangs hanging off to the side, and nose slightly curves out like a hill. His eyelashes touched the bottoms of his eyebrows.

   I've memorized his face. Even if that sounds creepy, it's true. 

   "I love you," I murmur.

   He looks over in slight surprise. "About that. . ."

   My face goes slack, and I feel like the branch is suddenly tipping me backwards. 

   "I'm just kidding!" Ethan says, beaming. He grips my hand tighter. "You're face went pale for a moment, there, Ki. I love you too." He leans over and kisses the side of my head.

   "You idiot!" I say, breathing a sigh of relief. "You freaking scared me."

   "I know," he says, sounding quite pleased with himself. I hit him on the arm. "Hey! You're gunna make us both fall off. I'm taking you down with me, just to let you know."

   I roll my eyes, unable to come up with a good retort. Instead, I lean forward and kiss him on his cheek. Like starting a conversation, he leans forward, lips dramatically pursed, and kisses my head with a loud smacking noise. I reply with a old-lady-like kiss, humming, "mmmmH!" smacking at the end. Then he makes the kissing noises immature sixth graders do, doing it over and over again as he kisses my cheek.

   I burst out laughing, receiving a genuine smile from him. I lean in one last time, actually kissing him for real on the lips, and kind of lean onto him after. Not enough to topple us both over, but so I can feel his warmth in the growing bitterness of fall. I wrap my hand in his.

   "Guess what, Ki," Ethan says, resting his chin on my head. I loved it when he did that.

   "What," I say, staring at the green leaves ahead of us.

   "I love you," he says, and I could tell he meant it from the tone of his voice. I could imagine those thick eyebrows scrunching together in that serious face he always did when I told him something.

   "I do, too," I whisper, not wanting to break the nice silence. My heart swells when I'm with him, and it's definitely swollen now. It's going to burst out of my chest any moment, it feels like. "For real."

   "For real?" Ethan says. "Like, forever real?"

   I smile, pausing for a moment. Then I nod. "Forever real."

   "Me too," he says, his chin bouncing against my head as he talks.

   I close my eyes and squeeze his hand.

   "Guess what," I say.

   "What," he says.

   ". . . I still think you look like a skater, baby-boy."