The Day of The Escape

IV. Such a Screw-up.

Such a Screw-Up.

“Aren’t you hot in that sweatshirt? It’s like eighty-one degrees out.” Brett asked me from the driver’s seat of his car. He was wearing a muscle tank which had an orange-red color dyed into the thick straps, lined by a dark gray color, the whole mid-section from mid-peck to let’s say mid-’v’ line was striped horizontally with the same gray color lining and a lighter shade of that gray hue. The bottom of the shirt was a solid of the dark gray lines and he paired this with some cream colored shorts and gray Vans. I, on the other hand, had on my ‘oversized’ white pullover sweatshirt that had light blue sleeves and hood, the word ‘Paris’ written across the front in black where the ‘A’ was in the shape of the eiffel tower. Underneath my sweatshirt I had worn a white t-shirt. I wore a pair of light-wash skinny jeans and my beat-up white converse along with this.

“Um… n-no. No. I’m fine.” I lied and put on my most convincing smile. I was dying under my sweatshirt.

“Mhm… yeah- sure you are.” Brett hummed sarcastically.

I bit down on my lip to the point where I almost could taste blood, but before I could rip into my chapped lips I spoke, “Where are we going anyways?” my bottom lip felt numb where I had been biting down on.

“You’ll see.” Brett muttered and rolled down his window a little bit more. His air conditioning was broken so the only way to get a breeze was with the windows down, but the air was warm, so it barely helped.

“Why are we at the playground?” I looked over at Brett. We were, at the moment, parked next to an almost empty playground. There were literally five people here two of which were adults and the other three no older than eight.

Brett smirked, “Any memories triggered?”

I stared down at my lap and shook my head.

There was a pause of silence, he was surprised. I don’t blame him though, he didn’t know. I was deprived of a happy childhood, he didn’t know. He didn’t know. No one did. “Well then, this is where we will start.” Brett smiled and stopped the engine. He looked back for passing cars and when none were traveling down the road towards us, he opened his door and jogged over to my side, helping me out.

“Start what?” I giggled sheepishly as Brett took my hand and walked me over to the vibrant playground.

“Sit.” Brett instructed as he tilted his head at the black, stretched out ‘u’-shaped swing.

I grinned and walked over to the swing, sitting down and grasping the cold metal chains on either side of me. They were slightly wet, unlike the seat of the swing, but they may have just felt wet due to the coldness that they expired. Brett walked behind me, his side brushing against my fingers, setting them on fire and making them contrast the shivers of the metal loops. His hands were placed gently on my sides making me hold my breath, “Ready?”

“Mhm.” Brett’s hands pulled back slightly and his hands slipped from my sides way to early. He pushed me gently and I began to rise higher and higher. I can’t believe I’m actually being pushed on a swing. I couldn’t help but smile, the warm breeze tickling my face, the two large hands pushing me forward, and this weird feeling, kind of like- like freedom. I closed my eyes for brief seconds as the wind invaded my vision.

After quite some minutes Brett stopped pushing and the swing’s velocity dwindled. I placed my feet on the ground and tilted my head back to see Brett’s smiling face, his eyes brushing over every inch of my expression. I tittered and pulled myself up, wait, I tittered? I don’t titter, at least not for real. Ew.  Brett grasped the metal loops and jumped over the seat, falling back to sit. He smiled at me and pushed himself back and forth with his feet, “My turn.”