hopped off the rock, suggesting they sit on the park bench. The warmth of her body was now agonizing and he’d rather focus on something else than her very close proximity.
On the bench, they spoke very little. Their uncomfortable silence was broken when a 1992 red convertible Corvette zoomed into the parking lot. A couple in their early twenties emerged, strolling flirtatiously to the far northeast corner of the park where the girl wrapped her arms around her partner’s neck, giggled at his comment, and then enjoyed a physical kiss.
Scott groaned inwardly, got off the bench, and commented on his thirstiness. The last thing he wanted to see was some other guy enjoying a passionate moment. After sipping some water at the drinking fountain, he entwined his fingers with Briana’s, guiding her around the corner of the restrooms. He leaned against the wall. The view of the woods was more welcoming than the young couple in love.
Scott and Briana stood quietly, watching a squirrel scamper up a tree with an acorn. The restroom wall hindered the soothing breeze and the late morning sun beat down on them.
Scott asked, “Are you hot?”
“I’m okay,” Briana replied.
Sweat built up between their enclosed hands, but Briana couldn’t bring herself to release it, worrying Scott would think she didn’t enjoy holding his hand. She watched the same squirrel run along a branch, thinking how Scott purposely avoided seeing the couple kissing. Was he annoyed she had turned her head? How was she going to explain her parents’ overprotectiveness to him?
The minutes ticked by slowly. When the Corvette left the park, Briana was surprised at how quickly their uneasiness vanished. The timing was perfect. She needed to leave. At the entrance of the park, Scott asked for her shoe size, telling her it was a secret for next Thursday.
After she told him, Scott reached into his back pocket. “I wrote another poem for you. I liked your poem, especially the part where I was the only boy for you.”
Briana smiled shyly. “It wasn’t as good as yours.”
“I know. It was better,” Scott announced as he squeezed her hand.
Seven days later, Scott entered the park, carrying a large bag of grass seed. He strolled over to the bench, observing Briana’s confused expression. Scott smiled, reached into the empty bag, and pulled out Felicia’s and his roller skates. His neighbor kept her skates in the garage, and Scott had simply borrowed them. Luckily for him, Felicia had the same size feet as Briana.
As Briana studied the skates, Scott said, “I hid them in here. That way, if any of my friends see me, they wouldn’t question me.”
Yesterday he had begun his summer ambition to beautify the two parks near his house. He sprinkled grass seed on the vacant lot adjacent to Second Street Park after getting permission from Mr. Orson who owned the lot.
Scott sat on the bench beside Briana, untied his shoes, and glanced at her. She was twisting her hands together. She watched him slide his foot into his skates.
Briana said, “I don’t know how to roller-skate.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll teach you,” he replied gallantly.
When he finished tying his skates, Scott helped Briana tie hers. “You ready?”
She gave a hesitant nod, and he clutched her hand, guiding her to the basketball court. He rolled onto their makeshift rink, circling his arm around her waist firmly to keep her from falling. She wobbled with uncertainty. His arm instinctively rose just below her breasts, preventing her from falling. While Briana straightened herself, he wondered why he hadn’t thought of roller-skating two weeks earlier.
“Just take your time, I won’t let go of you until you’re ready.”
“Thanks,” Briana replied and stared at her moving feet. She had a hard time concentrating with Scott’s arm wrapped around her waist, making her body tingle all over. Several minutes passed before she finally managed to find her rhythm. The extra exhilaration from their bodily contact provided the buoyancy and adrenaline she needed.
After about twenty minutes of skating around the court, Briana became more confident. “I think I’ve got it.”
“Good,” Scott replied. He turned 180 degrees, skated backward, and linked his fingers through hers.
They gradually picked up speed as their eyes locked, focusing more on enjoying their intimacy than their skating. Lost in their own world, they smiled at one another without realizing they reached the end of the court. Before he could stop himself, Scott rolled off the concrete onto the lawn. Unable to adjust, he lost his balance, falling backward, pulling Briana with him. He met the ground solidly and groaned when Briana elbowed him in the stomach as she fell beside him.
Lying next to Scott, Briana hurriedly moved his brown hair off his face which was etched in pain. “Are you okay?”
He nodded, keeping his eyes closed.
Briana propped her arm, leaning on it as she studied Scott’s strong facial features and the details of his lips. A month ago, she would have never have imagined herself lying next to a boy, feeling protected and secure. If she moved a few inches closer, her lips would be on his—and she really wanted to kiss him. Sighing quietly, she moved her gaze to his loose curls, wondering how she was going to explain her predicament to him.
Without thinking, she touched one of his curls. Her spontaneous action traveled from her hand to her voice. Shocking herself, she whispered, “I like your curls.”
With one quick intake of oxygen, Scott opened his eyes, fixing his gaze on Briana. His breath miraculously returned to normal. “You do?”
Briana released his curl, feeling her cheeks blazing. She turned her head and started to get up.
Scott grabbed her arm. “Stay. It felt nice when you touched my hair.”
When she didn’t respond, he gently fingered her long blond hair, remembering the fresh smell. “I like your hair too. It’s soft and natural.”
Briana’s heart skipped a beat from the gentleness of his touch. She smiled. “Thanks.”
“You know, with a smile like that, you’re going to knock the wind out of me again,” Scott replied hoarsely, intoxicated by her beauty. As he stared at her lips, a strong magnetic force pulled him toward her. He sat up. At the exact moment when he became positive this kiss would succeed, Briana moved her head and he ended up kissing her cheek.
Frustrated with another rejection, Scott ran a hand over his mouth. He wasn’t misreading her expression, but for some reason, she kept turning her head. After spending these past few weeks contemplating that question, his lack of resolve had burned a permanent fixture into his brain.
Controlling his impatience, he hopped to his feet, extending his hand. Briana reached for it and gave him an apologetic look. “It’s okay, Briana,” he said as he helped her up. He led her to the court. They skated again, but their previous enjoyment didn’t return.
Forty-five minutes later, Scott walked home along Seventh Street. He wondered if kissing a girl was usually this complicated or getting to know a girl was usually this difficult. He still knew very little about Briana. She never volunteered information about herself. During the evenings
