Summer Fields-A Short Story
She runs through the tall grass, the warm breeze tangling her hair in knots. She knows she’ll sit on the bathroom floor later that night while pulling strands apart and wincing slightly when she tugs too hard, but it’s worth the euphoria that floods through her now.
The grass is starting to turn a golden color from the constant sun they’ve been exposed to during those scorching days. It’s grown up to her stomach, making her feel like she’s sprinting into the sea at full speed. The experience makes her dive into her imagination.
She’s being chased by pirates. She stole something that belonged to the captain, his hook, and now she runs. They follow close behind, but she’s quicker, and she has one target in mind. Her own ship, just on the other end of the island. She’s almost there, so much adrenaline rushing through her that she can already taste the victory, but then she trips over a stick they were using earlier to battle each other that had been thrown without care into the sea after their surrender to her blade.
She gets a face full of dirt and grass, sputtering and wiping at her face frantically to get it away from her eyes. Someone drops themselves next to her and takes her hands gently in theirs, “Here. I have a water bottle.”
She knows that voice. It’s Riley, her childhood best friend, and neighbor who always wears long sleeves even in the summer. They were the same age, went to the same school, and they liked the same things even though they were different from each other. She was always loud and carefree, only afraid of the spiders that sometimes hid in the corners of her room, but Riley had always been timid. He told her one day when they were eight that sometimes, it felt like there was a monster in his house, but she didn’t understand what he meant. Two years later, and she still doesn’t know what he means, but she listens.
Right now, as he’s using the sleeves of his Spider-Man hoodie to wipe away the dirt from her face. She opens her eyes once he pulls his arm away, and sees his worry clear as the day that was slowly fading into night.
“Are you alright, Taylor?”
She nods, reaching up to ruffle his hair, “Thanks.”
“Of course,” he smiles softly. The look he gives her then forms into mischief as he plucks his “hook” from her left hand.
“Hey!,” she shouts as he runs away through the field that’s slowly swaying with the breeze, “Get back here!”
She still remembers his smile on the days that she drives back to her childhood home, the way he’d laugh, cry, and scrunch his face up when he was curious; and, every time, she wishes he’d be there to greet her at the porch like she used to do when he got home from the late bus. She knows he’s there in spirit as she hugs her mom at the door and walks inside to the familiar scent of vanilla and freshly washed laundry(still in the basket by the living room).
She likes to think Riley is here as she makes new friends and memories along the way, still in that Spider-Man hoodie and square glasses that were crooked across his nose; standing in the field that’s overgrown behind her house and waving at her through his light brown hair that got in his eyes when he would slightly tilt his head to the side.
For now, she turns away from the window and hugs her mom again as she leaves for the drive back to her dorm.
