Just A Moment

My Peter & Harry

As a kid I'd spend almost all of my allowance money on going to the movies. I'd go see a double feature on Saturday afternoon and emerge from the dark theater into the blinging sunlight, and it seemed like it was the "real" world that was made up and fake. So I'd walk home and invent stories about the people in town, like Mr. Roberts, our mailman, who was really a Russian spy, undercover as a mailman to gain intel on the rich families in town. There was also the time I made up a story about Mrs. Eisley, our local librarian. I imagined her as a famous singer who always had a soft spot for books.

I made stories about everyone in town. One of my all time favorites, was of Holt Crawford, class hottie and my all time crush since third grade. Cliché, I know. But it didn't stop me from imagining him as this life's Peter Parker, of course making myself MJ, because why wouldn't I?

I'm sitting on top of a picnic table in the park, watching as Miss Jane walks her new puppy. The small dog strains against the leash, wanting to unleash a crazy amount of spare energy. I imagine the dog as the fun alien companion in John Carter, zooming around wherever its attention lands.

I snicker quietly until I feel the old wood of the table shift with the additional weight of a second person. I turn with a start, mouth parting in surprise when I see the handsome boy sitting next to me. It takes me only a fraction of a second to take in the messy brown hair and stunning dark green eyes and know that I've just been graced with Holt's presence.

"Elyssia, right?" My mouth dries and I clear my throat when he says my name, simply nodding as I can't seem to make words.

"Don't tell me, we have," Holt bites his bottom lip while thinking and I wish he wouldn't because my mind is soon clouded with thoughts focused on what his teeth would feel like biting a lip that wasn't his own. I take a deep breath and force my mind clear. "AP English Comp together, yeah?"

And Mixed Media, and Lit. "Yeah," My voice is strained so I swallow the lump in my throat. "We do. Why?" Could this really be happening? Am I really talking to the Holt Crawford?!

"Can't I talk to one of the smartest girls in class about our up-coming project?" This shakes me out of my stupor because we both know that he wouldn't talk to someone he's never to much as looked at, just to converse about a school project. I raise an eyebrow and Holt chucked. Dear Lord, the heavenly sound. "Okay, truth is," Holt scoots closer and motions with his thumb over his shoulder. "There's a party tonight and my friend over there has been looking for someone to go with him, sadly he was too nervous to ask you himself." This sends me reeling, me, go to a party?!

Holt spoke the last part loudly and another voice grabs my attention. "Oi! Come on, mate! Was that really necessary?"

I look behind us, in the direction Holt pointed to and see the most beautiful boy I've seen in my life. While Holt had the sexy vibe down, this was different. This boy's dirty blonde hair, dark green eyes and perfectly sculpted face can't be described correctly with "handsome" or "sexy", while he definitely is both.

Sweet baby Jesus. If Holt is my Peter Parker, then this boy is my Harry Osborn. Or maybe it'll be the other way around, seeing as this new boy's cheeks turn a slight pink when our eyes meet. Perhaps the color is due to the nipping cold surrounding us, though I'd like to think it was me.