I wake up with a smile on my face. I don't even try to hide it from myself or anyone else.
Getting ready is easy, even now at six thirty in the morning. I throw on a pair of jeans and a floral shirt, then brush out my hair and braid it down my back.
When I next check the clock, it's nearly seven o'clock. It's a wonder my mom hasn't bursted into my room yet to make sure I'm up.
I silently creep out of my room and out into the hallway. The house is still and quiet. As if everyone's asleep. Maybe they are. I peer into Clarin's room, and find that though she should be getting ready to leave for school, she's fast asleep still.
"Clarin! Clarin, get up!" I say, hurrying to her bedside.
"What? What's wrong?" She asks, sitting up suddenly, rubbing her eyes.
"You're going to be late," I say.
"Late?" She asks, blinking at me a few times. "Late for what?"
"For school," I reply.
"School," she almost laughs, eyes falling closed. "It's Saturday, Brinley."
"Saturday?" I ask, looking down at my feet, feeling a little put out.
"Yes, Saturday. People generally sleep in on Saturdays, too," Clarin says.
"Right," I nod, trying to act as if I knew this all along. "Yeah. Okay."
"Okay," she says, looking at me apprehensively.
"Okay. I'll just... Uh... Go now," I say, before scrambling out of her room.
That's embarrassing. Saturday. It's Saturday... So that means I have to go the weekend without seeing Owen. And I guess that's not so bad... Except for the fact that it is.
I walk into my own room, sit on the bed, and let out a long sigh. What now?
I end up walking around the house aimlessly for about twenty minutes. Then I stop and pour myself some cereal. And watch TV for a few hours until my mom gets up.
"What's going on here?" She asks, eyebrows raised.
"I woke up early today," I explain with a sigh.
"You do realize you can go back to sleep, right?" She asks me, walking over and sitting down on the couch beside me.
"I couldn't," I say.
"What's up with you?" My mom says, eyebrows raised at me.
"What's up with me? Nothing," I say, confused.
"You haven't stopped grinning like an idiot since I came down here," she looks at me for a long time. "What happened?"
"Nothing," I say, trying to keep my smile at bay.
"It's Owen isn't it?" She says, smiling as well.
"No... Well, maybe," I say with a sigh. "Look, I know I hardly know him. But I think he's just so-"
"No, I get it. He's a good kid. You used to love him a lot, you know," she says. Then she puts on her running shoes, stands up, and walks off. "I'll be back in an hour."
Clarin drags herself out of bed about ten minutes later. Her hair is a nest on top of her head and her sweats cling to her body in awkward ways from sleeping.
She stops in the kitchen when she sees me.
"Did you come into my room this morning?" She asks, tilting her head.
"Yeah," I nod.
"Huh," she looks up thoughtfully, "I must have been half asleep for that."
"Looks like you still are."
"Hah hah. Funny," she rolls her eyes. "Make me some eggs, would you?"
"Make your own eggs."
I walk out of the kitchen and up the stairs. In my bedroom, I notice my phone screen is lit up. I walk over and pick it up.
'Ever been to a waterfall?' -Owen
I blink a few times, then realize that if I'm trying to pull back some memory, it's useless.
'Not that I can recall.'
'Then I'm taking you today. I'll be there in twenty minutes, so be ready.' -Owen
"Who's that?" Clarin asks, now standing in my doorway.
"What're you doing up here?" I ask her, feeling suddenly defensive.
"Walking to my room," she says, eyebrows raised. "What're you so smiley about? Who are you texting?"
"I'm not smiling," I reply.
"You didn't answer my question," she says, folding her arms.
"Owen," I say. "It's Owen."
I stand up from the bed and walk over to the door. I grab the knob and start to close it.
"And I have to get ready, so if you'll excuse me," I say, door almost closed.
"Wait, wait, wait," Clarin says, hand pressed against the door to stop it. "Get ready for what?"
"He's taking me to see a waterfall," I say, and can't help the smile from creeping onto my face.
"Wow," she says. Then she smirks at me, one eyebrow raised. "How romantic."
"Get out," I say with a roll of my eyes, yet I can feel myself letting a small grin through.
"Don't have too much fun, Brinley," she says, before walking back away down the hallway.
I can't exactly wear the skinny jeans I have on to a waterfall... And this floral top would be destroyed. I end up in athletic shorts and a navy v-neck. My tennis shoes are on and my hair's pulled back on top of my head.
About three minutes before Owen said he'd be here, I down a banana and some juice.
And then there's a knock at the door. Clarin gets to it before I do, and she pulls it open to greet him.
"Hey, Brinley's just in the kitchen-" she starts.
"Hi, Owen," I smile as I walk in.
Clarin watches the two of us contently and then nods, wishes us a fun time, and walks towards the kitchen.
"Ready?" Owen asks, and I nod.
The radio is turned on in the car, and Owen hums along. I roll down my window, my pony tail whipping backwards in the wind. I close my eyes and smile into the breeze.
"Ah, my eyes. Your hair is a weapon, Brinley," Owen says, taking one hand off the wheel to rub his eye.
"Sorry, did it... Hit you?" I ask, a little amused.
"Mm, yeah. Slapped me right in the face," he says with a chuckle. "At least it smells pretty."
On instinct, I bring a lock of hair to my nose and inhale. It smells like the new conditioner Clarin bought. I guess it works better than I thought.
The drive is two hours long and I get back my sleep lost during it. Owen has to shake me awake when he parks.
"Let's get going, drowsy," he says, helping me out of the car.
Starting on the trail is easy. It's a beautiful view, lots of trees, and the breeze is nice. It isn't too steep for about a half mile. Then it starts getting more uphill, then back down, until my legs feel like jello.
"You okay?" Owen asks, his hand in mine.
"Yeah, why?" I ask, looking up at him.
"You're breathing like Darth Vader," he says, smirking at me.
"Oh," I say, suddenly self conscious of my breathing.
"Do you want to take a break?" He asks me.
"No," I say. "I want to get to the waterfall."
"Determined and stubborn," he says, stopping and pulling my with him. "Just the Brinley I love." He presses a light kiss to my cheek. "Let's stop for a minute."
"I'm fine to keep-"
"No. Here, let's get some water," he takes off his backpack and pulls out two water bottles, then hands me one.
I drink the entire thing without taking a breath.
"Looks like you did need a break, huh?" Owen says with a laugh.
"It doesn't mean anything," I put the empty bottle into the bag again.
"If you say so," he smiles and runs a hand through his hair, making my stomach feel strange.
"Let's keep moving," I say hurriedly, starting to walk, so he won't see me blushing.
"What's the rush?" Owen asks, catching up with me.
"No rush," I shrug.
He doesn't seem to believe me.
After about another twenty-five minutes of hiking over terrain, we can hear the rushing water. The end goal now within reach, I have a newfound determination to make it there.
And then I see it.
It's absolutely beautiful. There's a small pond with the water pouring into it, and the pond extends to a stream that runs down the mountain. I can feel the cool mist on me as I go towards it, Owen's hand in mine.
"Wow," is all I can say.
"Pretty, isn't it?" He looks up to the water.
I stand right at the edge of the pond, looking down and finding my own reflection. And then there's Owen behind me, smiling. He pushes me gently and I tip straight into the cool pond. Then he jumps in with me.
"How dare you?!" I say, when I come back up from underneath the water.
"It's refreshing," he smiles. "I do this every time I come here."
I won't admit it now, while I'm trying to act annoyed that he pushed me in, but it is refreshing after that hike.
Owen catches me around the waist from behind, and his head leans against my shoulder.
"I'm glad you could come here with me today," he whispers in my ear, the sound of the waterfall in the background.
"I'm glad I did too," I say, leaning my head against his.
"Sometimes it scares me," Owen says, "that I have almost lost you twice."
"Twice?" I ask him.
"Jonathan turned you into a scary person, Brinley. An unpredictable person," Owen says, sucking in a quick breath. "And then the accident happened."
"But you have me now," I put a hand over his.
"And I have never been more thankful for something than to still have you here beside me," he turns me towards him. Then he leans forward and kisses me, our wet clothes clinging together. My arms are around his neck, his still around my waist.
I'm thankful too. I may not know much anymore, but I do know that Owen is and was one of the biggest miracles in my life.