Sandcastles | Completed

8 | stargazing

• • •

I gripped Elijah's hand as I slowly followed him towards wherever we were going, "I don't really like surprises."

"It's not a surprise. You know where we're going." He answered.

"Then why did you make me wear a blindfold?"

He ended up flaking last night, calling to apologize late that afternoon, and asking could we reschedule until this morning. I wasn't upset because it gave me time to help Jade with her request, and then straighten up around the apartment.

So here we were at the ass crack of dawn walking somewhere.

I heard leaves rustling and I sniffed the air, "Are we in the woods? Wait a got damn minute!"

Elijah's laughter reached my ears but I didn't hear a rebuttal.

"You mad about that hard muffin? I'll make you another one."

We finally stopped and he quickly undid the blindfold, making me squint against the rising sun. Once my eyes adjusted I just stood there stupidly until he spoke.

"They say if your eyes are covered when you first get out here, the effect is different."

"You didn't get to see it."

Elijah shrugged, "It wasn't for me."

It didn't take long for me to realize he was setting up a picnic.

I wrote poems in my spare time. They weren't very good at all, and I never let people read them, but I enjoyed writing them. Maybe a week or so ago, I expressed to Elijah that I couldn't get my thoughts to flow enough to write one.

He asked what I did when I wanted to focus, I told him when I was in Houston, I'd sit in my mom's makeshift garden in the backyard, but I had yet to find a spot like that in Dallas.

Now I stood in the middle of an uncountable amount of flowers, different shades of pinks, vibrant purples, mustard yellows, all aided in their beauty by the glimmer from the sun.

Elijah was making me feel like it wasn't a big deal by how nonchalant he was being, but everything about him was nonchalant. He was the poster boy for showing the least amount of emotion, other than when he was happy.

"Thanks?" I said awkwardly.

He shook his head and smiled, "You're welcome."

"So that's why you canceled?" I asked, sitting cross-legged on the blanket.

"Yeah. Ain't no way the mosquitoes was gone' tear me up, and Lauren said it's better in the morning."

"Who?"

Elijah pulled his phone from his pocket to show me a woman and a young girl, "My brother's wife."

"She's really pretty," I observed, "They both are."

"She okay. I ain't know what you wrote with, so here."

He'd dumped an assortment of pens and notebooks out.

My dad was always a thoughtful gift-giver. Our family often spoke of how he always seemed to know exactly what to get, but he shrugged it off and said he listens when people talk.