Size Zero

Chapter Ten

I tucked the front pieces of my bangs behind my ears, the rest of my hair blowing in my face uncontrollably. My feet push me off the ground and I swing back and forth gently, keeping my feet raised until I come to a natural stop. And then I repeat the process all over again. I'm looking around the empty park, the deserted playground. There's no sign of him, not yet.

As a little kid, the swings were always my favorite. I think they're almost everybody's favorite. We all know that when recess began in elementary school it was like a free-for-all fend-for-yourself blood bath to the swing sets. If you managed to get a swing you were the shit. And if not, you were a vulture patiently waiting until someone got bored and left.

I pushed off the ground again. Back and forth, slower and slower. Stop. Push. Back, forth. Slow. Stop. Push. Back, forth.

"Lucy?"

I jerked to a stop.

Luke stood in front of me, hands in his pockets. He was giving me a look like he wasn't even sure I was really here. His hair was mused from the wind, and yet somehow it still looked perfect. Everything he did was perfect.

"Hey," I said, pushing off the ground again. "Want to swing?" I asked.

"Okay," he said hesitantly. He sat in the swing beside me. It took him a moment to get situated, his body was much bigger than the size of the average person the swing was meant for. But then he was pushing off the ground, too. And then we were swinging side by side, a little unsyncronized.

We swung back and forth, just like that, for what seemed like forever. The creaking of the swing set was all the words we needed to say in that moment. And then we came to a stop. And the silence was again filled with nothing. And there was a pressure building in my chest and I knew I needed to say what I had asked him here to hear but I just couldn't find my voice.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly. I looked over to see him staring at me and I had to look away. I took a deep breath.

"Fine." Was all that came out in a whoosh of breath.

"Okay."

"Yeah."

"You really did ask me here, right? I'm not dreaming all of this?" He asked. I was dying to look at him again, but forced myself not to.

"You're not dreaming."

"Okay."

"I need you to apologize again," I said.

"What?"

"I need you to apologize again so I can forgive you."

"Are you serious?"

I couldn't resist anymore. I had to look at him. He was like a statute he was so still. His hands were gripping the chain handles of the swing so tightly his knuckles were white. His eyes were wide, his jaw slightly slack. I didn't say anything, I just looked at him. Looked at him looking at me. And I thought making eye contact would be awkward but it kind of wasn't. His eyes were so blue and I was so used to looking at them that for the first time in a long time I wasn't afraid to make eye contact for an extended period of time.

"I-I, uh-," he stumbled. "God, I don't even know how to say this right."

"It doesn't have to be right," I said.

"Yes, it does," he insisted. "It has to be right because this is the one moment where it's really going to matter - this is the moment where you are finally going to say what I've been wanting you to say and all the other times seem so easy right now because even though they came out all wrong at least I spit them out."