Spring

Fifteen

She flung open the heavy oak doors and ran down the steps, nearly tripping over in her haste. She threw her book into the small basket in front of her bicycle, hopped onto the saddle and rode furiously towards the direction of the park.

She was late!

Oh, god, please let him be late too!

It was a good thing that she was-- well, at least she thought-- that she was a pretty good cyclist, thanks to the multiple last-minute grocery trips her mother frequently requested done. So as she confidently swerved her way dangerously through the vehicles and pedestrians, she mentally thanked her mother for her tendency to not make lists when going grocery shopping.

Thanks, mum.

After about fifteen minutes consisting of bumping into walking humans, hitting the brakes so hard that she was nearly thrown off the bicycle three times and just narrowly escaping being smashed into pulp by a lorry, she finally reached the park in one piece.

Thank the gods.

She rode slowly to the bench, crossing her fingers and praying that the boy hadn't arrived yet-- maybe he had an errand to run... or maybe he overslept? No, that one was ridiculous. Maybe he went to the grocery store to buy lollipops and...

Fu-

Furry worms.

Or maybe he wasn't late, her conscience mocked, because sitting there under the sun was the boy she had been secretly listening to for five months and one week. He was in a blue shirt with cutoff sleeves, strumming his guitar and singing so beautifully, and from where she could see, he had really strong-looking arms.

She debated staying or leaving, because staying meant having need to pass him to get to her tree, unless of course, she fancied a swim in the lake. But she was one of those bad swimmers that made those loud splashing sounds, and discreetness was at the top of her list now, so jumping into the water wasn't really an option. So that left flying above him to the tree or rounding past him.

Yeah... Walking past him sounds more normal.

But then there was the bicycle.

Most of the time, she would choose to walk to the park, but when she cycled, she would have had hid it behind the bushes. However, that always happened before the boy arrived. If she wheeled the bicycle past him and tried to hide it behind the bushes right now, he surely would notice her.

And she didn't want him to notice her, because she was afraid. She liked their relationship the way it was-- even though it was kind of one-sided-- and she didn't want to change it. Noticing her meant coming up to help, or worse, talk. It wasn't that she was bad at conversations, it was just the simple fact that she liked this, the no-fuss, the simplicity of it all. It wasn't infatuation or love-- heavens, no. It was just that she didn't want to ruin this special bond with him.

And if she accidentally let slip of the fact that she came here everyday for the past few months just to listen to him...

Maybe she should just leave today.

Sighing in disappointment, she turned back to her red bicycle. Then, she caught sight of the book in the basket.

Brilliant!

Trying hard to hide the happy smile on her face, she wheeled her bicycle to where the boy sat, her heart pounding. She really hoped that he wouldn't recognise her, even though he's never seen her before. It was a silly fear, but still, her palms were sweaty.

A few metres away from him, she was hit by a crucial detail.

Where was she going to sit!

On the bench opposite of him, or next to him? Oh my god.

In her flustered state, she didn't realise that she had stopped him front of him. He hadn't looked up yet, and it was a relief, But she knew he would, soon. She didn't know what to do, so quickly, she quietly muttered iney-miney moe, and when her finger pointed at the direction of the opposite bench, she sat down and pretended to read.

She sneaked a glance at him, curious, but then he raised his head and looked at her.

She froze, silently running through her repertoire of cuss words in her mind. But then she actually thought about it, she didn't think it was so bad. At least she could see how he looked like...

Okay, it was a bad thing.

His curly brown hair sat endearingly messy on his head, framing a sharp face. A strong nose led to lips so full, and after that a jaw so beautifully structured, she suspected of plastic surgery. But really, as cheesy as it is, she was completely focused on his eyes. Viridian and stunning, as green as the summer leaves above them, and they held so much passion and warmth, you could practically feel it radiating off him. She couldn't help but think about her blue eyes. Cold as ice. She hated it.

And she couldn't help but wonder, is he a model?

He cocked his head to the side grinned at her, and in return, her lips quirked up into a lovely, genuine smile. She was exploding from happiness. It felt like though that small exchange of smiles, their bond had somehow strengthened. She couldn't explain it-- it just felt good, like licking up an ice-cream cone on a hot summers day. It was like feeling the ice-cream melt on your tongue, cool and sweet.

She looked down at the page, her cheeks faintly coloured, seeing the words but not absorbing them, because he had begun to sing.

He didn't know that she was the girl who always sat behind that tree with the heart-shaped leaves, but yeah, it was alright. He didn't know how hard her heart was banging in her chest when he smiled at her, or how happy he made her, but it was okay, he could feel it one way or another.

She didn't know that throughout that hour, he had caught her looking at him, or that he had sneaked quite a few glances at her as well. She didn't realise that he noticed she never flipped the page, it stayed on page 137, and the way he smiled when he did, but it was okay. And she didn't know that he found her blue eyes captivating, or that he really, really liked her smile; he never told her, but it was okay, it was just a matter of time before he did.

Later, as he slung his guitar over his shoulder, she finally stood up and told him what she had always wanted to.

"You sing beautifully."

****

Yo... it's been a really long time hasn't it?

I actually wrote this chapter ages ago, but for some reason I didn't want to post it. Now I think of it, it's partly because I didn't want Spring to end so soon, and because I was afraid it wasn't good enough of an ending. And honestly? It's not the best ending, but right now I'm saying fuck it, because if I'm always so insecure about sharing my work, then how will I ever improve? If I'm always this scared, what am I writing for?

So yeah, I'm posting this chapter, and I'm not touching a single thing. I should have posted this months ago, I owe it to five months ago Chloe :)

Anddddd I just wanted to say thank you to everybody who has ever liked Spring, I know its been a long time and idk if there are still people who still have this story in your library, but (fingers crossed) if you do, thank you, thank you so, so much, you have no idea how much you mean to me ❤