Collide

four

           

           

"Favorite color. Go," I said, popping another square of fudge into my mouth.

            "Green," He said, looking out at the ocean as the waves came crashing in and then receding back out again.

            "Red." I'd spared him the popular, tourist filled beaches, figuring that you could pretty much find those anywhere in the world that has an ocean, or even just a lake. Instead, I'd brought him to one of my favorite places – A secluded little alcove with a brilliant view of the water, and not of some 45 year old dad with a big beer belly chasing over his 3 children, one of which was crying, another tugging on his arm, begging for a popsicle, and a third one happily building a sandcastle. I was now itching to try and paint this view, but I'd left my stuff at home.

            "Hey, together we make Christmas!" He laughed, searching for a flavor that he hadn't tried yet.

            "Red and green are complimentary colors, you know." I said, an artist's way of flirting.

            "I didn't know," He shook his head. "Not surprised that you did, though." I smiled, feeling the warm summer sun beaming down on my face, probably making my freckles come out.

            "Favorite animal?" I asked, enjoying the moment. The day was still in its prime, and I was taking advantage of the peaceful moment so we could get to know each other better. I had only one rule when it came to playing around: I first had to know his last name, and at least five facts about him. He'd told me earlier that his last name was Wyatt. I liked how his name sounded on the tip of my tongue – Brooklyn Wyatt.

            "Frog," He said.

            "Why does that not surprise me?" I asked, leaning back on my hands and looking at him.

            "What? They're green, and cute, and boingy-"

            "And completely harmless," I finished for him.

            "Exactly!" He laughed. "What's your favorite animal? Like, a lion?" I shook my head.

            "Nope. Monkies."

            "No way! That's the emoji that I use!"

            "Whaddya mean by that?" I questioned, a little confused by the statement.

            "Uh, n-nothing," He stuttered. "Just, like, in texts? You know?"

            "Mmm-hmm," I agreed, even though I still didn't quite get it. He was clearly flustered by the question, and, for once, I didn't feel like pushing it. Just the moment was enough.

            Just as I had guessed, he'd fallen asleep on the way there, his head flopped against the window. I'd had to softly shake him awake, and, after he'd realized what had happened, he'd asked where the good places to eat were, and then continued on to have his second breakfast – Pancakes and bacon.

            I already loved my state and country, but I enjoyed seeing everything through his point of view, as well – The look of joy and satisfaction that filled his face from his first bite of pancake (after he'd buried them in a pool of butter and maple syrup), how he first thought that the faux moose head mounted on the wall was a real, live moose sticking its head through, his fascination with everyone's accents. I'd long since grown accustomed to everything that he was now seeing for the first time, but looking at things through his eyes made them seem new again. Artwork worth, for sure – I knew exactly what I'd be doing the moment that I got home.