Page 18 of Solitude

Beck ducks his head, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment, and he walks backward like he’s about to hop onto the seat and fly past me. Instead, he sheepishly smiles, “Sorry. That was a weird thing to say.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

He jerks his head up at the sturdiness in my voice, disrupting the otherwise silent night.

“It wasn’t weird, I mean.”

“Oh,” he says, like we’re volleying the word back and forth now.

I stand up and point toward the portion of the fence I came through just fifteen minutes ago. “I should head home.”

Beck nods and mirrors my pointing. “Right. I should, too.”

I wring my hands together in front of me and open my mouth then close it. I open it again then close it once more. Finally, I ask, “Do you want to walk with me?”

“My mom would actually kill me if she found out I let a girl walk home by herself at night.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Beck nods once and gestures toward the fence again. “Exactly. Glad you see it my way. After you, Winnie.”

“Right… Thank you.”

He chuckles behind me, and I soak up the sound with my back to him, allowing the smile to spread across my face since he can’t see my face. This time both of our feet are crunching sticks and leaves and lost pieces of mulch. We don’t say anything on the short walk across the park.

“Ow!” I yelp, stumbling in a random hole, and my ankle twists slightly as I try to catch myself.

Beck’s arm shoots out and wraps around my middle, effectively pulling me upright, and I wince as I get my feet underneath myself.

“You okay?”

Nodding, I mumble, “Yeah, I think so. Sorry, I’m so clumsy.”

He huffs, a smile curling his lips. “Don’t apologize. Think your ankle is okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, holding onto his shoulders as I rotate my foot a couple times. “That damn hole… I bet Debbie’s little boy did that. He’s always digging around.”

Beck looks over his shoulder at the small dip in the path, and he shoots me a serious look. “Want to sue? I’ll help you get all the compensation you deserve.”

“Oh, maybe I can finally buy that big motorcycle I’ve been eyeing at Beau’s garage!”

“Will you take me for a ride?” Beck asks, his eyes wide as he sticks out his bottom lip in askance.

I chuckle, lifting my hand to poke at his lip before I can think it through. “Put that thing away, Hale.”

But all I can think about now is the fact that I just flicked Beck’s mouth.

What is happening right now?

It’s then that I realize how close we’re standing. My hands are on his shoulders, supporting myself; and he has a hand on my hip bone, blue eyes darkening in the moonlight.

Dreaming would seem more real than whatever is happening right now. For half a second two years ago, I thought Beckett Hale had finally noticed me on this dilapidated playground but even at sixteen, I still looked like a kid. In the two years since Beck and I exchanged words here for the first time, my flat chest now boasts two round, perky breasts, and my butt has a little extra jiggle to it. My face has lost all of that baby fat, and I finally figured outhow to properly dress and style my hair in ways that actually accentuated my features.

Though, taking in my claw clip hanging on for dear life and blue, cotton pajama t-shirt and shorts, this probably isn’t the best example of my progress.

Beckett Hale has changed just as much in two years, too. At eighteen, I thought he was a man but the Beck that was seemingly waiting for me to show up on the swing set in a cut off shirt and a full head of hair?

That’s a man.

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