Of June

4- An Enchanted Evening

The park is nearly empty by then.

Of the few people dispersed around, almost all of them seem to be indulged in their daily schedules, too busy to realise the tranquil quality the place possesses. It's a peaceful afternoon today in Owatonna, Minnesota, one that carries with itself a tinge of spring air even though June has already begun.

And here I am in the middle of the park, donned in dirty clothes with bruises on my legs- dazed by the person right infront of me. To anyone else, he might give the impression of an average skinny boy with a peculiar sense of fashion. But only if they could form an opinion from my point of view.

His brown eyes are imbued with a sense of serenity, providing warmth like the colour of fresh coffee. The moment I glance at them, holding my breath in awe, frozen in spot, I immediately recognise that face which I earlier couldn't observe clearly. I part my lips, trying to untangle words in my mouth. All in vain.

When a look of nervousness spreads across his features, he slowly takes a step back and smiles wistfully. The movement pulls me back to reality and reminds me of the creepy stare I've been casting at someone I've only just met.

"I- I'm really glad that you're okay, thank God. . ." Beginning with a soft tone, he breathes out a sigh of relief. A gulp travels down his throat. "I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself if some. . . something terrible had happened to you."

Let me get this straight. Right now I'm verily not only standing in Owatonna, but also breathing the same air as the guy whose brilliance I know, would gift him a skyrocketing fame in the distant future. All I can follow from this minute onwards is that my summer holidays will be a complete hundred and eighty of what I initially predicted it to be, because come on, which girl in her painfully mundane life wins the rare chance to meet her favorite artist who, moreover, is the same age as her?

Bingo.

I take a deep breath, fighting the urge to hyperventilate. "It's okay-"

"You don't know how much it means to me, your help. . .I'd almost given up on reaching home today without being, you know, caught by them. . .like always. I can't thank you enough." Unknowingly interrupting my reply again, he speaks everything in a single breath.

"Um. . .we're fine, really." I break the silence, grinning in a way I hope would make him somewhat comfortable. "I just saw you back there. . .and I thought it was wrong, very wrong, whatever they were- wait, what do you mean by always? Do you know them. . .?"

"We go to the same school." He looks down and shuffles on his feet, his act hinting anxiousness. "They're two grades above me."

I gasp. "It must be a nightmare."

"Honestly, yeah. But. . .there are teachers around, so they prefer sparing me most of the time. After school, though. . .I always try to avoid them." He exhales out. "They did find their favorite punching bag today."

"They deserved to be taught a lesson!"

"And you nailed it." He cracks a gentle, warm smile. A moment of silence then settles in between us as we both struggle to find out the next words to say.

"Adam." He introduces himself and stretches out a hand, rather slowly. Reluctant for a moment he looks over at me, as if asking for my permission. My hand reaches out for his, but pauses mid-way before I pull it back to wipe the dust and sweat off of my palm. Bringing it forward again, our hands meet with a little shake and I beam a wide smile, still unable to believe my luck, fate, or destiny- call it what you want. What he's totally unaware of is the huge, stupid grin I've been suppressing back as I muse over how all the physical suffering I experienced earlier today has actually paid off pretty well.