The Summer of 21 {complete}

F I V E

He had picked me up at six just like I had said. I ended up waking at fiver-thirty which made me slightly regret my decision to see the sun come out of its hiding place. We went to the same beach as the other night, but instead of staying in the car; we sat in the sand. Our bodies laid close to one another, close enough that our shoulders touched. I didn't know if he felt uncomfortable or comfortable, so I left it there. He didn't move either.

We talked about music. His favorite bands, my favorite bands. His favorite artist. My favorite artist. An artist that brings us comfort. His was Lewis Capaldi, mine was Ed Sheeran. Both artists are so in love with the idea of love. So in love with the idea of having someone to share your secrets. Having someone become part of you.

I've never experienced falling in love, but I have seen it in movies. Young love, they call it in high school movies. They say it's the purest form of love... I can't wait to find out if it's true.

I guess that's what we both wanted back then. The simplicity of love and hope. And the purest form of love.

I can't say I regret getting attached back then. And I can't say I regret feeling the purest form of love. I just sometimes wish life had warnings.

We stayed driving along the coast after we laid in the sand for a while watching the night die and the sun reborn. I've always liked the ocean. It's where the sun and the moon both die just so the other can live a few hours.

We ended up at a pizza place because who doesn't love pizza.

Thankfully he wasn't that type of person who ordered pineapple on pizza. I would have ended our friendship right there. Instead, he opted for a pepperoni one, which is pretty normal in my opinion.

His eyes sent chills through me as we ate in silence. Archer had an intense glare. You felt like you were being studied. I felt like he was memorizing every inch from the first strand of my hair to the smallest detail in my eyes.

I liked his eyes.

And his smile.

They were warm. It was the brown in his eyes. Their look made you feel like making cookies on Christmas morning. Gosh, I love Christmas mornings.

~~~

It had to be around four. I'm not sure. I haven't been using my phone. I didn't think I was capable of doing that.

"I have an idea," Archer said.

"Okay? What is it?" I responded, genuine curiosity struck me.

"Let's go to the woods." He said in a calm voice. I know we're living the whole 'fuck it; let's do whatever', but the woods wouldn't be my first option.

"I don't want to die." I joked. Archer didn't look like the serial killer type.

"You won't."

"You'll probably kill me. You say I talk too much. I do not know why. I don't really talk that much. Sometimes, but not always. It just happens when I'm really passionate about something. On second thought the woods sound pretty cool. Yeah. If you kill me, please be gentle. Make it a fast one." I've never really thought about death before. I promised myself I wouldn't think of death up until I felt like I was dying.

"I'm not going to kill you."

"Cool." What else could someone say to a statement like that? Thanks?

We stayed silent again. Something I was becoming accustomed to whenever he was around. It probably took us twenty minutes to get there. We got out and suddenly life was far away. Everything stopped as we continued walking further in. The tall trees engulfed us in nature. The sound of birds becoming the hottest new song.

Time stopped, but he and I were able to keep moving. We were surrounded by nature. The light from the setting sun keeps us warm. The animals keep us company. The plants give us privacy.

This was life, I thought.

"It's fucking amazing," I tell him.

"Stranger."

"Sorry. I meant to say freaking amazing, Archer." I kept walking but I didn't notice he stayed behind. It wasn't until I had stopped again to take a better look at a tree that I felt his presence next to me. I didn't turn to look at him. I don't know why though.

He stood next to me without saying anything. A few seconds later, he turned his head and I did the same. And he looked at me and I looked up at him. The sun was hitting his brown hair making it seem golden. He was gold. His eyes turned from chocolate to pools of honey.

I had never been a fan of brown eyes. I had always hated them. His eyes held a brown so dark you could grow flowers in them. They looked like dirt. But his brown eyes made me love the color. Suddenly, I wanted to see everything brown. And I'd soon realize brown was my favorite color.

He moved closer to me and revealed his hand behind his back. A small flower held by his fingers. A gentle little yellow flower. He showed it to me but didn't take his eyes off me. I didn't look at the flower, I was too busy being captivated by his brown eyes.

Have I mentioned how much I love brown eyes?

He lowered himself a bit more, his fingers slowly grazing my skin. He moved my hair a bit back and placed the flower on my ear, never breaking eye contact. A flower. His hand slowly retraced its steps, but this time he went slower. It was like his hand was trying to learn the puzzle in my skin.

His touch became my favorite touch.

"Why do you want to be an actress?" Archer almost whispered the words. We were so close I could see the way his lips moved to create every shape.

"Because I can become a different person when I don't like who I am." I spit out without even thinking. I was under a spell cast by him.

He controls me the same way the moon controls the oceans.

"Why do you read?" I ask him.

"I can move to a different location in an imaginary place without leaving earth."

"I guess we both do the things we love to escape the things we have." I respond.

Up until that moment, I hadn't realized how similar Archer and I were. From my perspective, we both had fairly good lives, yet here we were wishing for more. Wishing to leave the fantastic things we have.

The ride back is silent. You can hear the gears in our heads turning. As he drops me off at my house, I glance one more time at him. Archer offers me a shy smile.

"I'll see you, tomorrow stranger?" I already know the answer, but ask anyway.

"That's the plan."

"Good." I close the door and make my way to my room. The first thing I notice is the yellow flower stuck on my ear.

"He loves me." I pull a petal from the flower.

"He loves me not." Another petal pulled from the flower.

After six pulls, I pull the last one. "He loves me." The last two times I've done this, I've gotten the same answer. He loves me.