Page 3 of Our Hearts Knew Better

The Ferris wheel caught my attention first, as it was the show-off, sitting high in the sky, appearing to be touching the stars.

In my imagination, this was where I had my first kiss. I owed it to Clara, because if she hadn’t had a sudden pee attack fromthe lemonade she consumed at rapid speed and ran off at the last second to find a toilet, the kiss wouldn’t have happened.

The guy who took her place was cute. I recognized him from a couple of my classes, and I wondered as we were taken up if he recognized me too.

My stomach turned, as I underestimated how high it was, and when our chair stopped at the top, I covered my face. He pulled my hands away and told me to look at him—me, he repeated, when I hesitated opening my eyes. And when I did, he kissed me. Out of nowhere, but he told me he liked me and had been wanting to do that for a while.

He then became my first boyfriend. But it didn’t last, as young love in real life usually didn’t.

I sighed my head against my hand, blinking around at the darkened shapes of the other rides and booths, before shifting my feet forward to keep exploring.

Despite everything in my head not being real life, I was still hopeful and dewy-eyed enough then to believe it would be.

The Gilligan

A few things happened at once as I approached the end of the dock. My flip flops were like soft clicks against my heels as I’d peeked inside all the boats, but not soft enough to escape the ears of whoever was occupying this last one.

I froze mid-step at the rustling coming from inside, a speed that made the boat rock, water lapping.

No waywas the first thought I could have at the low music this person was listening to, before this person revealed himself with the same speed in his words.

“Hey, I was just—”

He froze now, his hand mid-air with a pointed thumb toward where he just appeared from, his lips parted, his eyes unblinking on mine.

I unfroze a second after he did, his hand lowering to his side, then my slightly raised foot connecting flat with the wood.

A held breath blew from his mouth. “You’re not my dad.”

I took a step closer at the relief in his voice—a trust step, toward a fellow wanderer? And aboy.

“Is he strict too?” My voice sounded rusty, then higher than usual in my push to make sure he heard me, and I tried not to cringe.

“About his boat. And he doesn’t want me sailing without him. He could make a presentation for all his lectures on sailing at night.” He laughed, sounding nervous, saying all this as he climbed to meet me on the dock, revealing himself more in the lights as not just a boy, but a cute boy. One of the most beautiful boys I’d ever seen.

He was blond, but his face more than made up for that.

He smiled, a half one, revealing a dimple, as his eyes held mine again. They were bright blue. His hair was wavy, some waves over his forehead.

My imaginary first boyfriend had nothing on him.

“I’m Levi.” He grazed his hands over his shorts as I repeated his name to myself, then he held one out to me.

How old is he?

I laughed on the inside. He was obviously a teenager, and I didn’t know any teenage boys who introduced themselves with a handshake.

I waited too long to give him my hand, because when I finally did, he was lowering his with a flustered face, and I overreached, grabbing at his hand and bringing it back between us in an overeager yank for him to know I wasn’t trying to leave him hanging.

And now he’d passed his fluster onto me, his half smile from before back in bloom, but with an amused lift in his brows.

I loosened the squeeze I had on him, letting his warm palm warm mine, then released a breath that left me able to smile back. “I’m Summer.”

He mouthed my name, his lips coming together so softly, gluing my gaze right to them. His hand fell from mine with a brush of his fingers I’d still feel once the night was over.

“Wanna come aboard?” He pointed his thumb again toward the boat, encouraging in how he shifted that way for me to follow, with another lift in his brows like hope I wouldn’t leave him hanging again, as he’d just admitted he wanted me to stay. “I have sodas,” he told me, but he didn’t have to say any more, and I didn’t even have to ask what kind before I was nodding my answer.

I could’ve argued this also wasn’t smart, but that label sneaked out of my system the moment I sneaked out of myhouse. I was always the smart girl, but now, in the dark, I was just being a girl. I was justbeing.

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