Of June

11- A Dreadful Accident

"I want to know who gave Mrs. Young the idea of sending us to the park for no apparent reason." I complain sighing, kicking a pebble upto a distance, then walking a few steps further only to kick it again.

"And that too with you out of everyone in this world."

"What did you say?!"

"N-nothing." He stutters. "Just keep walking."

The subtle afternoon breeze flutters our hairs as we tread on the sidewalk that leads to the park, the same public park where I met Adam for the first time. His shoes occasionally drag against the path, producing a coarse sound that alternates with my own footsteps. While I'm walking impassively, hands in my pockets, wondering that although I didn't mind sitting at home all day watching cartoons or reading books, the calming noon walk was something I didn't know I needed. My lungs are filled with fresh air, eyes immersed into the boundless serenity of nature. Maybe Joan was right after all, it's nice to come out of your shell every once in a while.

"Do you know where she lives?" I ask before adding, "Abbey, I mean."

"Nope. Why do you ask?" He replies, tossing another question at me. I crane my neck behind a little, only to discover his head hanging low.

"Um, I wanted to apologize."

"For what?"

My pace slows down a bit. "It's been a week, but I still feel bad because she unintentionally became the first victim of my terrible cooking experiment. Also, I kind of wanted to thank her for being sweet enough to not let my hopes down."

"You definitely should apologize." He agrees.

"What about you?" I spout without looking back.

"Huh?"

"Since when did you become this much considerate towards me?"

Now I don't have a third eye, no one does, but I can clearly feel his stare burrowing into the back of my head. "As awful as it was to eat that breakfast", he begins, his voice soft despite the bitter words, "I couldn't have let her suffer alone, okay?"

"I don't know if I should say aww or shut up."

"Just keep quiet."

I try resisting back a snicker, but can't. "Anyways, you know I was thinking, if things work out better between you guys, I could become friends with her. Imagine, we'd have so much fun! Even if you flat out get rejected, that doesn't necessarily mean she'll be against the idea of us being friends. Don't worry, though, I'm sure you won't be–"

A thump emits from behind and I swivel around rapidly, darting my eyes below. Ofcourse, Adam's at it again being a clumsy ground mat. I sigh.

"Let me guess. You didn't tie up your shoe laces again?"

"How did you– I mean. . .ofcourse I did." He lies. Pulling himself up he stands on his feet, dusts off the dirt from his jeans and lifts up his gaze. "Why are you looking. . .I– I swear it's not my fault!"

"Yeah", I scoff, "Ofcourse, it's the shoe's fault that it didn't tie up its laces. Definitely not the owner's job, nope."

"Hey!" He whines in a disapproving tone, crouches down and ties the laces before tucking the ends inside the shoes. "It might have loosened on its own. . . understand? "

"Sure." I chuckle. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

-

I take out a bar of chocolate from my jean pocket, rip the wrapper and pop the rich brown snack into my mouth. Adam has been staring at the chocolate the whole time, a notebook resting on his lap and a pen in a hand. We're settled at a bench that has somehow secured itself from the blinding sunlight. He emphasizes on how nature is the best source of inspiration, more specifically to obtain lyrical ideas, hence the stationery he insisted on bringing with him.