A Heart Doesn't Forget (Fanfiction)

Chapter 13: What am I doing?

"What is this place?" I asked when he stopped the car in a parking lot in front of some woods.

"There's a lot of walking paths in the woods around the town. You were the one who showed me this one."

"Really?" I asked, and we both got out of the car.

"Yeah, we used to go jogging all the time before.....uh, let's start walking." He shut his car door, and I tried to ignore how he didn't finish his sentence, but my curiousity got the best of me, and I had to ask,

"Before what?"

We started walking on the gravel path.

"Before," He looked away, "well, you got a new job and I guess you just started getting busier after that. I haven't been here since."

"Oh," I said. There was something else he wasn't telling me, I could tell by the way he kept avoiding my eyes, and how he kept drumming his hands on the side of his leg, something he often did when he was nervous.

I didn't press him further, though. I knew I had to work on being more patient, it was easier to ignore it, if I just told myself I'd remember eventually.

I'll remember eventually. I don't need to know all the answers right now.

"So, when was the last time you were here, then?" I kept the conversation going.

"Well," He reached over, and held onto my hand. "I think that was about...a year ago." He told me.

"Wow, so it's been a long time." I said, and gave me a sideways glance.

"Yeah, it has." He smiled at me.

Looking away from him, I notice we were no longer on the gravel path, and were now walking through the trees.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Well, uh, after walking the same path fifty times, you and I started creating our own trail. Once, we found this small clearing. You said you thought it'd be a great place for a picnic." He said, and as soon as he finished his sentence, I noticed a gap between the trees.

In front of us, was a small clearing of grass. In the middle of it, was a table and two chairs. The cheap kind that fold up when you're done using them.

I laughed, smiling at him.

He blushed. "It's cliche, I know. But, you told me the best date you've ever had, was your first date, which was at a picnic. So I thought, if I did that, this could be our best first date. I don't know, it was just a thought." He said, running a hand through his hair nervously.

I chuckled, "That's sweet. What's with the table and chairs, though? I thought picnics were usually on the ground." I said, and he led us over to the middle of the field, where the table and chairs were.

"You said you didn't like the idea of eating on the ground. You told me it's uncomfortable, and you didn't like the thought of bugs crawling into your food." He said, and true to his words, I grimaced at the thought of that. It did sound disgusting.

But then, looking at the table and chairs that he had set up in front of us, I couldn't be happier. He's remembered so many little details about me. It's strange to think that he seems to know more about me than I do.

And yet, I still know close to nothing about him.

"I want to know more about you." I told him, and we both sat down across from each other.

"Okay," He said, and reached down underneath the table. When he brought his hand back up, it was holding one of those tin foil containers you put food in to keep it warm.