On the last Friday of school, the bell couldn't have rung louder. That was it. We were finished. Never again would we have to set foot in the halls of Goodland High School again. Although there was screaming and laughter, there were also many tears shed. Some people would never meet again. Some people would never even return to Goodland. But whatever everyone's future would be, one thing was for certain: not a single member of the Class of Nineteen-Ninety-Eight would forget the memories.
Jenna swings her bag into the back of my truck, and climbs into the seat beside me. The engine starts with a smoky grumble, and roars to life. As I back out of our parking space, I tell Jenna to wave goodbye. “You're never going to step foot in this place again, you know.”
“I know. It's just—there have been so many memories: some wonderful ones, and some not so. And I've known these walls for the past four years. It seems strange to leave—forever.” Jenna stares longingly at our school. “I'm almost missing it right now.”
“Aww, don't kid yourself, Jen.” I throw the old Chevy into first gear and we lurch forward towards the exit of the parking lot. “You'll be in college soon and you'll forget about everything that happened in high school.”
“Not everything,” my girlfriend corrects me, “I won't forget about you.”
“Thanks, Jen. You're so sweet,” I tease. I pull the truck out onto the highway and head north.
“You up for a trail ride?” Jenna asks suddenly.
“I guess so. But four hours before graduation?”
“Sure,” she shrugs, “why not?”
“Well, I don't have any excuses. I guess we could take a short one.”
“Excellent! Besides, Sierra has missed you.”
I can't remember the last time I rode that horse. “She hasn't forgotten me? It's been ages.”
“Colin, some people say that horses have sharper memories than we do.”
“But I haven't forgotten her, so what does that have to do with anything?”
Jenna becomes quiet for a few moments. “I don't know,” she replies softly. I can only laugh. I love my girlfriend. Or I guess she was my fiancée now. That sounds really, really weird.
By the time Jenna and I sight her house, we are both sweaty; sweaty from the sun and them exertion from riding. One may think that it doesn't take a lot of energy to ride a horse, but it is exhausting, especially for the horse. Both Sierra and Cimarron are frothing at the bit, and are glad when we stop them inside the barn and dismount. Jenna and I feed them apples from the lake that we collected while we take off their saddles and bridles and wash their sweaty bodies down.
Jenna takes a long gulp of water from her bottle once the horses are clean and back out in their pasture. I lean against the fence and bite into an apple that I've been saving. Jenna looks over at me jealously.
“Ya got another apple?”
“Yep,” I tell her, pulling an apple out of my shirt, and tossing it to Jenna. Jenna catches it with ease, and nonchalantly cleans it on her elbow sleeve before biting into the red skin. Jenna smiles, juice running off her chin and down her chest. “This is delicious,” she remarks, face full of apple, “I love you Colin.”
I crunch into my own apple again. “I know, I know.”
It isn't five minutes before Mr. Jackson interrupts us from our peaceful moment to remind us that we have a graduation ceremony tonight. I dust off my blue jeans and push off the fence to stand on my own weight. “Think you can live without me for an hour?” I ask.
YOU ARE READING
Kansas Summer
SpiritualEveryone wants a perfect love story, although we find that it's impossible at times. Colin King and Jenna Jackson believe they have written the best one of all. However, their faith in their relationship is sheltered by the small Kansas town they...
