Falling Daisies

Chapter 2

The local park could barely be classed as a park anymore. The grass grew long and untamed and patches of daisies and wild flowers scattered the ground underfoot. I remembered, looking out onto it with nostalgia, playing here with Scott when we were little. Back when we were innocent, before everything got so screwed up...

It had seemed like a jungle to us back then, two kids desperate to grow up and explore; a blissful escape. Hope Park was really somewhere to get lost in for hours. I remembered too coming here and just sitting, so many times, when things had just started to go wrong...

It was more a giant overgrown field than a park, apart from the crumbling, ancient children's death slide and a couple chipped, vulgar, orange swings, which looked like you could quite easily break your neck on one - all it would take was one false move; plus, ever since the ridiculous rumours flew round in year eight that you could catch the clap just by sitting on them, people tended to steer clear. Just in case.

As I stepped nervously through the creaking wrought iron gate, my heart was skipping double time. Apart from a couple of young boys kicking around a football, the park was pretty much deserted. It was midday; too early for the wannabe chavs and crack heads to be out on their evening high; but I knew all too well that it didn't rule out the possibility of an early start, out of boredom if nothing else. I shuddered thinking back. It had made my skin crawl just thinking about Scott hanging around with them in the first place, but when the trouble started...I shook the thought from my mind.

Briskly, I made my way down the gravel path to the nearest bench I could find. I'd shocked myself by being ready so rapidly; panic and adrenaline clearly driving my body to quickly shower and dress. The fact I was first here was beginning to unnerve me and I pulled awkwardly at my oversized black Guns and Roses top, rhythmically scuffing the toes of my converse on the ground, looking around nervously.

The panicking, irrational questions at the back of my mind started up. Why wasn't he here yet? I wasn't the type of girl that got stood up.. Or was I? It's not like I'd been on many dates to get stood up on. Oh god, was this a date? Or just a chance for him to clear his own conscious? More likely. What if he came, saw me, and made a run for it? That would be humiliating! I'll give him a few more minutes then I'm leaving.

I traced my index finger along the edge of the old wooden bench I was seated at and into the grooves where people had hacked out chunks of the wood, professing their undying adolescent love into them, proclaiming that:

"LF luvs SK 4eva".

Initials in wood, original... But when did I get so cynical?

I cursed as I pricked my fingertip on an upright splinter , too engrossed in the spec of blood forming a crimson blob to notice that a tall figure was walking towards me.

The sunlight was eclipsed over my head as a deep instantly recognisable voice muttered, "Ah, so we meet again Miss Ryder".

My head shot up. He was perhaps even more perfect in the daylight than he had been last night. He was wearing a simple pale blue T-shirt over a pair of three quarter length chinos and boat shoes and looked every inch the Hollywood A-lister. He looked less tired than last night too, but still had that faint glimmer of vacant distraction across his face as when I'd first seen him.

How was it physically possible to look this good; especially after the amount I watched (and helped) him pour down his throat last night?! It wasn't fair! I instantly felt gawky and unimpressive standing there in front of him and instinctively put a hand up to my beanie.

"You're late.." I offered. It came out more annoyed than I'd intended it to sound and he flushed slightly, a sudden vulnerability seeming to cross him and I had an urge to reach out to him and wrap my arms around him.