MELODY (Rewritten #1)

The Park

I devoured half of the novel in three hours, savoring the peace and quiet of the early morning. There was a short break, though, to stretch my legs and admire nature, wandering the paths shaded by sturdy oaks and graceful elms. Then I changed benches, nibbling on my breakfast bar, until the gate to the meadow finally opened for the public.

I exhaled, stepping into the lush, enormous lawn with the iconic skyline. It wasn't crowded yet, but more people would arrive soon to picnic, walk their dogs, and to enjoy the sunshine.

The air was still cool and crisp as I wiped my favorite bench, under a huge elm tree on the edge of the meadow, and sat down. It was a secluded spot, revealing the whole meadow, but not too far from sight. A fairly safe spot.

Minutes passed as I sat here marveling at the view, breathing in the fresh air, and practicing another favorite activity... peeping.

People-watching was one of my guilty pleasures —not just watching Clark, I'm afraid— and in this early hour there were a few moms with their children, flying kites, or playing with Frisbees on the grass field. A gray-haired man in a dust-colored coat sat on a bench, not too far from me, reading a newspaper. I bit back a chuckle. He looked like one of those cliche spies in the movies, trying to 'cleverly' hide their faces. What a trope!

A couple of yards from the man was a cute, little boy, scrambling around to find a place to hide. His young mom was covering her eyes, propping her elbows against a tree trunk, and it looked like she was cheating. "Ready or not?" she shouted, peeking through her fingers

A smile twitched on my lips. This was a utopia. People seemed to leave all their problems behind before they came here. They looked untroubled. More cheerful. More human. It was so sweet, watching happy families and kids in their parents' arms. Yet, I felt this heaviness in my chest that it was something I would never experience. Was it so bad to feel jealous?

Well, yeah, it was Pretty bad. I was a horrible person. I bit my lip and looked away.

Enjoy your time, Melody! I urged myself.

I opened my book, leafing through the remaining pages. I was half way through. Roughly three more hours and the fun would be over.

I sighed and started the next chapter. By the end of it, my tears were rolling down my cheeks.

Pathetic! I thought, unzipping my purse and pulling out a Kleenex. It was embarrassing how I couldn't control myself. I was a mushy tear bomb. And I was pretty sure my facial expressions, while reading, made me look like a nutcase. Hopefully nobody paid attention.

Thinking about facial expressions, Clark's face flashed into my thoughts. His face was too expressive to be overlooked. And I'd paid too much attention to him —spied on him, actually— in a way I wouldn't have wanted for myself. I was a horrible person and a hypocrite.

An hour later, I put down the book, stretched my arms, and straightened my spine. My eyes were tired. I blinked, looking around at the meadow that started to gather more visitors. Some were spreading blankets on the lawn, others sunbathing with earbuds wired to their ears.

An unexpected sight caught my eye and made my pulse quicken.

I had to look twice, because considering logic, and my rotten luck, it was highly unlikely that my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. So I gawked like a fool for a full minute, and it was definitely him! Clark! In the flesh! What were the odds?

I fidgeted on my bench, a funny feeling seeping down my stomach.

The mysterious Mr. Kent stretched out on a blanket under a nearby tree, holding a book that rested lazily on his chest. His long legs were crossed at the ankles, his black sneakers extending out of the blanket onto the grass. He wore a royal-blue shirt, the sleeves rolled up, showing off his sun-kissed arms that contrasted with his faded jeans. He was picture-perfect. Again, unfair.