Grace and Grant were not meant to be, but there were eleven reasons why he was unforgettable.
This is a short story of how she fell for him, and how he let it all fall apart.
[ Short Story #39 ]
There was just something behind his eyes that got her wondering. Maybe it was the way they seemed to twinkle when he smiled. Or maybe it was how oh-so-easily he could make her understand with just one look in his eyes. Either way, she found that pair of two brown orbs her favorite.
First week of February, 2011
"I still remember it, you know," I said, sighing as I leaned my back on the wall behind me.
Grant did the same on the wall behind him, right across me, so now we were staring across each other. Then he folded one of his legs and brought it up to his chest and rested his palm on his knee. "Remember what?"
I gazed toward the field in front of us, feeling the rush of flashback that was going to have a visit to my mind. Again. "I don't know. Everything, I guess."
"Like what?"
"Like... like the first time we talked in the sidewalk that day?" I offered, more like questioned. And then I let a grin spread out on my face. "I also remember the first time we ever talked through IMs. You were interrogating me about... my crush on Matthew. And then I began teasing you about the girl you had a crush on—was it Kelly? And everything. Silly."
He laughed along with me. "Yeah. I kind of remember that. I was the one who texted you first, yes?"
"Yep. I even have the proof here on my phone," I said, nodding. "It was a shock that you actually knew my number all along. And kind of creepy in some way," I joked.
"Why was it?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at me, the edge of your lips curled upwards to form a small, amused smile.
"I don't know. I thought you hated my guts; I thought you didn't care about me... and then all of a sudden I found out that you had my number even though I never gave you no matter how much you annoyed me to try to get it."
"We may have annoyed the hell out of each other when we first met, but I never hated you, Al," he said softly, "and I cared about you. I still do. That was why I asked about your crush on... him," he said, wrinkling his nose, feeling uncomfortable mentioning his best friend. "Maybe, at first I disliked you... but you did dislike me too," he teased.
I rolled my eyes and smiled.
He sat up and moved, scooting closer to me. Finally, he settled down beside me, our shoulders barely touching but he still kept a fine distance between them. He respected me, and I appreciated him for it.
"I never actually got rid of those conversations, you know," I told you, chuckling lightly. "Like... even the first one! I've been saving them since the first time we talked."
He actually looked surprised. Turning his head toward me, he widened he eyes. "Really? All of them? There are hundreds, hell, even thousands of them."
"Yeah, really. It's kind of stupid but... I guess I just can't bring myself to delete them because...," I shrugged, "because I knew someday they'd be important to me," I said, rolling my eyes to hide the fact that I was blushing. But my voice softened, "I guess I was right."
He tore our gaze and smiled, staring straight at the scene in front of us. "Thank you."
I looked down at my lap. "What for?"
He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant yet still stumbled for an answer. "For being... you. You've always been a good, caring girlfriend to me. You're never afraid to show that you love me. So very unlike me," he chuckled. "I just... sometimes I think I can never show you enough how much that I love you too and..." He sighed, still locking your gaze on the field. "I don't know. I'm terrified that someday you'd run away because I can't be good enough for you. I wish I can protect you better. From any kind of pain."
I smiled at this. Just as I whipped my head in his direction, the corner of my eye caught a movement of something whizzing toward me. A realization hit me—it was a ball. A ball someone kicked out from the field. A ball racing toward me and going to smash into my head in a second.
I didn't have the time to freak out because the ball was already smacked away from my head.
For a brief moment I closed my eyes, waiting for the dull ache in my head that didn't come. And then I finally open them, only to see his arm reaching out in front of me, shielding me from any kind of pain, including the ball that almost attacked me.
He looked shocked at what had just happened, just as I did. We both stared at each other before he dropped his arm to his side nervously, and then we both began laughing, as if my near-death-experience was actually funny and something to be laughed at. Well, in some ways, it was.
I put my hand on his, squeezing it reassuringly as our laughter died down. "You protected me alright."
He smiled so softly, his brown eyes staring deep into my hazel ones. His hand absently reached to his side, where a small bush of little yellow-colored flowers swung back and forth to the soft wind, and played his fingers around it. He didn't have to say anything, anything at all. But I knew from that moment on, that he would always protect me, and would never hurt me intentionally.
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