Memories of Summer

[A Memory of Summer: John]

On a field of low cut green grass runs a man not much older than seventeen years. Sweat is forming on his forehead as the black and white ball before him, is driving him towards one of the two goals placed on each side of the meadow.

Even tho this is just a practice, both girls, boys, and adults have gathered up to watch the warmth of the sun bring fourteen boys together. There are shouts and screams surrounding the rectangular form of the football field as one or two gasps also escapes the audience as people are made fools of by the best player on the entire team.

His name is John Oliver Collins.

The girl next to the field with her hair newly colored black as in a protest against her naturally strawberry blond isn't shouting. She isn't gasping and she is absolutely not keeping scores of the game. No, the only reason that her face with an elegant eyeliner and a dot of purple from her art class is here is because of the boy now shooting a perfect score.

The girl presses the small piece of paper she hid in her bra closer to her beating heart as the players of the team start to head to the dressing room. Along the sides of the field, a lot of girls can't help but let their eyes linger at the golden-headed boy as he makes his way over to the patiently waiting girl. Even tho as he moves closer she can't help but feel her nervousness rising.

"Sorry, the boys wanted a game and..."

The boy moves closer to the girl which is actually his first real relationship, even tho he hasn't told her that. Sure, he has been close to others but miles apart compared to what his heart does when he meets this girl's blue eyes.

"It's okay."

He sneaks a hand around her as his fatal smile reaches his cheeks and the deadly dimples are on the show. He leans in and finds familiar lips under his. They are mixed with sweat from the heat and the coconut lips gloss the girl had on her. According to them both a delicious combination.

The girl brings up a slow and uneasy hand to push the boy lightly away from her. They are now alone as the rest of the crowd has drawn back to other occupations.

"I really need to talk with yo..."

But the boy doesn't want to let go that easy as he presses himself harder against the girl named Maggie and find her lips between his once more. But determination separates them as she now uses both hands to push him away.

"John. It's really important."

A sudden shock shoots right up John's face as he watched the girl he... well, he has not yet expressed really how much he "likes" her, but always has in his head. Which is actually the only place he feels like he can express whatever he wants.

Maggie has already turned around and is heading away from the football field. The familiar benches hidden behind some high bushes is where she sits down. But she doesn't stay for long as her nerves are getting to her and she stands up again.

A worried expression takes over John's face.

"You might want to sit down for this."

Maggie reaches for one of her pockets on her leather jacket and lights a cigarette as John sits down before her. He hates to be put in the kind of confrontations where he hasn't even looked at his own cards yet.

He doesn't know what is going to happen and since he knows that Maggie hasn't smoked for half a year, he knows something big is coming.

He watches her take a deep drag from the cigarette and as a light gray smoke escapes her full lips she reaches with a shaking hand inside her pocket and pulls out a black and white picture. She quickly hands it to John and then rapidly steps back as if the action just burned her.

"Well, it's yours."

John flips the photo which was handed to him upside down and stares down at it. There's no question about what it is. The small bean lying in his hands waving a little by the wind. He drags his hand over it and then looks up at Maggie. He is out of words and as she can't meet his eyes, he knows she is too.

"Put it out."

Maggie suddenly meets his eyes and her frightened blue ones easily sees his pointing towards the cigarette in her right hand. She slowly shakes her head, John used the voice he usually uses to everyone else besides her when he isn't in the mood for getting into an argumentation. But she isn't in that mood either and takes another drag.

"Maggie."

His voice is softer as he drags a hand thru his sweaty hair and keeps a hand over his mouth. Maggie throws away the burnt out cigarette and sits down next to him with a huff.

"I'm sorry."

She doesn't look at him as his shaky voice speaks, she hasn't seen him in their eight months relationship and it almost scares her as much as she photo she is studying. Just as hard as John is.

"For what? It's not like I can keep it. I just thought you might want to know."

The wind makes the bushes rustle and a single bird flies over the sky at a slow speed. But the two teenagers alone on the bench doesn't say a word. One minute passes. Then another until you can help but let another pass as well.

"I can quit football, I can get a job and I promise I will take care of the baby when you paint."

"John..."

"I already have a car and I don't have any siblings so for awhile we can live with my parents, just until we can afford something on our on. My mother doesn't work and could help us."

"JOHN STOP!"

Maggie rises from the bench and with harsh hands, she pulls the photo in John's hands from him and tears the photo apart. The remains of both a burden and a dream fall effortlessly to the cold ground where they lay without movement.

Tears are streaming down the girls face, some are darker because of her makeup but some are just as unclear as her head feels. She can't get a grip on what is going on or what is considered right from wrong.

"Maggie, look at me."

A hand cups Maggie's cheeks as she stares into hazel eyes. They are determined, they speak of belief and of... could it be happiness?

But John's eyes aren't reflecting in the same kind of light in Maggie's eyes. They speak of uncertainty and of a hope she doesn't know if she wants to rely on or not.

The time has never seemed to go both faster and slower than at this moment. A moment which would come to both close and open doors neither of these two had ever thought of.

"I'm not leaving you, Maggie."

-

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6th of April