It Started With a Song [editing]

Chapter 9 - By the River

I struggled for an answer that wouldn’t make it seem like I was stalking her, even though I wasn’t.  “Um, well, I…”  Apparently she found this amusing, because a smile slowly spread across her face.  I sighed.  “Whatever I say is going to sound stalkerish, but don’t laugh.  I was outside playing catch when I saw you run towards the river, and I wanted to come over and talk to you right but I figured you needed some space for a few minutes.  So then I came over, and you were playing your guitar and singing, and I just figured that I would wait until you were done.”  I sighed again and smiled shyly at her. “I’m guessing your parents said no?”

An unhappy look stole away her smile.  “Yeah.  Dad didn’t give me a reason, and I didn’t wait around for one.  They're inside talking with the boys now.”  She looked away, frowning a bit, and I felt bad for reminding her.  “You don’t have to stand there,” She added before I could apologize, “You can come sit down if you want.”  When she patted the grass next to her, I stepped forward and sat down.  Setting her guitar down next to her, she sighed.

 “I take it from your reaction you don’t want to talk about it?” I asked, referring to her parents’ decision. 

Lyla shrugged in reply.  “There’s nothing to talk about, really.  The boys asked my parents, they talked for a minute and said no.  I left, grabbed my guitar, and came here to sob my brains out.  End of story.  And there’s nothing I can do about it.”  She took a deep, shaky breath as she pulled up some pieces of grass to fiddle with, and I saw her eyes begin to tear up.

“There’s gotta be something you can do.  It’s important to you, I know, so you can’t just go and be all ‘oh-well-it-is-what-it-is’ about it.  Sorry,” I apologized, realizing that what I was saying wasn’t making her feel any better, “it’s not my issue, so I shouldn’t worry about it.  I’ll stop talking now.”  I smiled a goofy smile at her, hoping to cheer her up.

She smiled back at me.  “No, it’s fine.  I’m just kinda sad, that’s all.  But if you’re gonna be here, let’s talk about something happy.” She giggled.  “Ha, happy, like the song. Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof, because I’m happy.  Okay, sorry.  Lyla moment!” she sang, smiling even more.

I laughed.  “Okay, that was random.  But at least you’re smiling!  Hey, maybe Scott the Awesome’s rescue of the fair maiden Lady Lyla was necessary after all.”

It was her turn to laugh.  “What have I told you about that?  I am not a fair maiden, and you are not as awesome as me!  But thanks for coming over here.  Even though it means that now you know my secret hiding place.  But whatever, I don’t really mind.  I’m not – that – sad anymore, I guess I just needed you to cheer me up.” 

“Well, I certainly do a good job at that.  Cheering people up, I mean.  And making them laugh.  Maybe I should be a comedian!” I joked, trying to make her smile some more.

I succeeded.  Lyla smiled, calmly replying, “Don’t become a comedian.  Ever.  You would be horrible.  Just some advice.”

“How could you say that?!  You think I’m funny, I know you do,” I huffed, pretending to be upset.

She smirked.  “Well, maybe you know wrong…” She let her sentence trail off right before I splashed her with some water from the river.  That started a splashing war, leaving us drenched after a few minutes.  I took one look at her damp hair falling in front of her face and burst into laughter, and she quickly joined in.

“Maybe a splash war wasn’t the best idea,” she said in between giggles.  “Now we’re soaked!”  A look of horror crossed her face.  “Oh, no!  My guitar!”  We both looked over at the guitar sitting on a patch of grass next to us.  A few small water droplets sat on its surface, but apparently that was enough to freak Lyla out because she swiftly stood up and rushed over to it.  “My baby!” she cried, picking it up.  She walked over to a bush and knelt down, pulling out a locked wooden box from underneath the leaves.