The wind rustled through her dress as her feet slapped against the ground. She laughed, her joy echoing through a stone tunnel that separated suburbia from a 1920’s paradise. She had taken her shoes off, claiming that life was too short to not frolic barefoot. Claiming that she loved the feeling of her feet against the smooth cobblestone, the soft grass, the rough asphalt. They chatted while he walked and she danced about. The conversation had turned to television, with both claiming that they watched far more than the other. She closed her eyes as they travelled through the tunnel, feeling the cool air rush onto her face, blowing her hair back while her laughs bounced through the space. The tunnel opened into a beautiful courtyard, with cobblestone roughly and sporadically placed. She jumped from stone to stone, rambling on about How I Met Your Mother. He kept up with her, his strides matching her leaps. In one hand, a blue blanket. In the other, two books. They crossed the courtyard, entering into a beautiful hall. Elderly women chatted politely with them at the front desk, gave them grounds passes, and melted into smiles. It had been so long since they had seen young love. They walked out into gardens, rolling hills and lush grass. She smiled as her feet dug into the soft tufts, and sighing, she turned to look at him. He was there, perfect as ever. Blue eyes matching the sky. He hadn’t changed since they met. He asked her where she wanted to sit, and she surveyed the gardens. Sails fluttered in the breeze as boats docked and set sail below. She set herself down on the grass at the top of a small hill, resting her head on her knee and looking out at the water.
“This place reminds me of the Great Gatsby. It’s one of my favorite books, you know.”
“I remember. You mentioned it once.” He set down the blanket and passed her a book. They lay down on the blanket, reading and chatting. He remembered her walking through the hallways, burrowed in a book that she has just gotten. She would walk into doors, sometimes the happy couple holding hands. Once she fell down a flight of stairs outside while reading Harry Potter. He chuckled to himself, thinking of the daily walk from Calculus to her Shakespeare class.
“What did you think of me in high school?” She asked abruptly, propping up on her elbows and give him a sideways glance. “Yesterday you asked me that, and I was wondering what you thought of me.”
He studied her face. Her innocent eyes reflecting the sparkling sun, waiting for a response. “To be honest, I had a huge crush on you in high school.”
He watched her face as it turned from expectant to confused, to a hint of frustrated. She broke eye contact and looked out at the water. The boats bobbed up and down rhythmically, swaying as the wind pushed them aside. She wavered. But though she felt untethered, she seemed calm and steady. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Betrayal. In each syllable, there was a pang of hurt.
“Would you have wanted me to? You were 15. I was graduating. I had a girlfriend, and you…you were off limits.”
She paused, unsure of what to say. “You should have told me.” It was quiet this time, less definitive but more emphatic.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met. It’s been three years. I’ve dated other girls. But I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
Too little too late
He reached for her hand.
Why are you here. Why are you doing this to me
“Say something.”
“I’m not off limits anymore. I’m in college. It would be pretty terrible if my parents controlled my life.” The words came out more confident than ever. Why, why was she falling into this trap?
“So, if I were to ask you out on a date. A real date. Would you say yes?”
I said yes three years ago, didn’t I?
“Yeah, I guess…why not?” she flashed a small smile, half joking, half flirtatious.
“Can we…seal that with a kiss?”
You should have been my first.
They lay in the grass, holding hands and reading until the sun set. She refused to put her shoes back on, again citing the wonderful feeling of the earth on her feet. But as they packed up the blanket and books, and walked back to his car, she knew in her heart that the reason she walked on the hard, coarse gravel was to make sure that it wasn’t a dream.
