as much as he loved having days off from the restaurant, carson was a little annoyed at how early he had woken up. it wasn’t even by choice and he hadn’t even set an alarm clock. his body just made the decision for him. they decided the only thing to do was be productive and go for a morning run. at least it wasn’t too hot yet. he had been about ten minutes in when he rounded the corner, bumping into someone. “oh shit,” they said as he signed. “are you okay?”

august’s arms stretched out at her sides, then high up above her head; a motion done to its fullest extent, to the point where her lithe limbs momentarily shook a touch. perhaps a movement that posed the slightest bit of risk, considering the silk scarf that’d been fashioned into a sleeveless top around her torso. it hit several inches above the high-waisted white denim that hugged her hips. not that she was worried—the woman knew her way around a roll of clothing tape. the carelessness—or, more accurately, laxity—extended through her body, arms falling back at her sides until her palms landed atop a blanket she’d laid down on the grass. she’d been making her way around the park and beer garden for the last hour or two, long enough to soak up the sun and settle in before it began to set. before the crowd’s energy took a one-eighty up-swing. august could practically feel it beginning to rise, a bubble about to burst. one hand rising to act as a visor above her eyes, she twisted around to survey the area. chances were, by ten pm she’d be glued to the stage, a sucker for even the local bands. best to experience everything else now.

in her glancing around, her eyes caught on a familiar figure. a smile eased onto her lips, hands pushing against the ground so that she could stand up. disregarding the blanket entirely, she began a fast walk in his direction, not even slowing down once she’d gotten close enough to reach out and take one of his hands. “carson!” august beamed, now about a foot in front of him, her other arm taking the same hand her first had and tugging lightly. “i saved a dance for you inside the silent disco tent.” now walking backwards, she cast a glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was in her path. “not that i’ve been inside yet,” she added, looking back at him. “but that’s irrelevant.”

more than acquaintances, but not quite friends. perhaps on the edge of such a relationship, but never taking the final step into the plunge, complete with its exhilarating rush and inevitable risk. just safe—at a safe distance. that was how august would describe her relationship with carson james, even now as she pulled up to the repair shop that’d long belonged to his family. the thing was, their apparent inability to cross that imperative line in high school aside, she’d always somehow managed to keep an eye on him. not even intentionally, just through coincidental circumstance. one that brought them both to new york city and one that’d also brought them right back here, to irving. the series of almost-run-ins was actually was prompted her—an older, more confident august pettersen—to show up this evening, stepping out of her car and shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. “hey, carson!” she shouted, looking around for the familiar face. “so, uh, i don’t quite remember how good the stargazing is around here, but i figure it’s gotta be better than back in the city. fancy taking a shot?” she did a 360, glancing around once more, at least confident in the idea that having a plan gave less of a chance this would be an awkward or short-lived encounter.

but as a shuffle met her ears, the trance was broken. in a motion that could be described as somehow both sharp and smooth, her chin tilted upward... then to the side. “oh, hey,” ellie spoke over the music once her eyes had landed on carson. “do you need the space? honestly, i’m not really using it.” @cvrsxn​

as a little girl, carson would sit in front of the television with chips in hand as she and her mother would watch the yankees game. she herself had very little athletic skill but she admired the players and always loved their uniforms. the first time and last time she went to a live game was the senior year of college, a memory she would never forget. it's what made it so special that her best friend and coworker, laura, had bought tickets to a game for her birthday. they sat in row 113, close enough to see a lot of the action, but still having to look up at the screen to see the fine details. the entire game all she did was talk about player number ten. she could barely talk about the game itself. instead her comments came off as a string of, 'he has the cutest butt, lo', 'i wonder if he plays that hard in bed?', and of course, the ever so convincing, 'watch, i'm gonna marry him someday.'

in the middle of the seventh inning as they stood to stretch, laura took to her phone with what she said was a business call. minutes later, she sat back down and glanced at her friend with a cheshire grin. 'guess who has an interview with number ten after the game?' carson's eyes lit up, filled with pure glee. 'i guess i'll need a photographer to capture the moment.' carson had been a professional photographer for the past three years, working closely with national geographic. while she preferred to different cultures and the natural world around them she sure as hell wasn't about to turn down this opportunity of a lifetime.