021111 -- There are too many 11's in that

[memorialrainbow]

This is an entry into a book that the local group is putting together. The idea is that each story must take place in Ohio. It's also technically a 'creative nonfiction.' O.o

August 16, 2005 approx. 6:30 PM

She looks toward the mountain-filled sky and adjusts her purse, strapped around her waist. "You know, you don't have to be so stubborn."
He turns to her, previously lost in his own little world. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You're sick. So what?"
He grumbles, but he knows it's true: this morning, he woke up with an awful cold, which has caused him to sneeze all day. On cue, he sniffles; she wishes she has a tissue to give him. She doesn't. Even if she did, they would have been ruined already by the nearby water.
"I hate being sick," he mutters.
What he won't tell her is why he's so upset. What he won't tell her is that when he had woken up that morning, it had been just another ordinary day...until he had first seen her. When his head had gotten all messed up and he hadn't been able to think straight and his breath had caught in his throat and his heart had flip-flopped in his chest...he had been unable to say anything, and so his mother had needed to cover for him. She was the one who had welcomed her to the peninsula and the shore for the first time, not him. It was supposed to have been his job.
"You're sick," she says again. "And you can either be mad about the fact that you're sick all day, or you can get over it and do what you can."
He will not tell her what he's feeling yet. He doesn't know if he ever will. He looks to the side, giving her the same aloof personality he's been giving his friends all these years. If you can call them friends.
"Seriously. I'm fine." He sneezes again.
She smiles at him. Unlike others, she can see right through his facade. She's still getting used to this whole process of meeting new people; she herself hadn't had a lot of friends in the past. She's here with friends today, but it's clear her eyes right now are only on him.
She came here to meet him today. To meet him. Only him. Everybody else, at the time, was just an afterthought. It was only when she arrived and she realized he was sick that the world opened up in front of her eyes. It's just my first time. I've never done any of this before. This isn't Mason.
He stares off into the distance and finds a woman waiting there. His mom. She's much shorter than him, her hair pulled back into her visor, not looking at him. He knows she's not watching him specifically; she's just making sure today goes well. Because she's here. He turns back to the brown-haired girl in the khaki capri pants, light blue t-shirt, and not-quite-yet waterlogged tennis shoes, the girl with the blue eyes who makes his heart stop. Because this girl changes everything.
"Why do you care?" he asks. Still aloof.
She doesn't quite know the answer to this question yet. She only knows the feeling she got in her heart when she had found her way to the middle of the mountain range, stopping to rest with her friends beneath the shade of the biggest mountain in the area. Originally, she had only been here to meet him. That other sky obtrusion had been overlooked. Number sixteen. A waste of three hours. Within seconds, her opinion had been reversed.
He had always looked at 'number sixteen' as an eyesore. Now he's not sure what to think anymore. She chatters on, and he tries not to feel jealous.
"Look," she says, "you can either be mad at the fact that you're sick all day, or you can make something better out of it. You're still standing, aren't you? You're still here. You're still alive. It's just today that you're sick. I'm sure we'll get a chance to dance." She holds a hand up to his nose. "It's not like I'm never coming back here."
He prays she doesn't notice the blush. Five years from now, he knows he'll remember this moment. Five years from now, he prays she's still in his life. There have been tales of one like her. She never returned. No wonder nobody ever goes over to number nine anymore.
Why is it her? He doesn't know. All he knows is that the minute she stepped onto this shore, the entire area has been different. It's like even the smell of the shore is different today, like there's less seagull in it or something. He lost track of how many people had been here before -- no pun intended -- but now there's her, and nobody else matters anymore.
She never signed up for any of this. She only signed up for the bus ride, for the fun, for the friends. August 16, 2005. She had been waiting for that day since a month before, at least. Today has already been amazing. She wonders what the rest holds.
All she knows is that, at ten o'clock, she'll need to be back up front to meet her group. That will be when her day ends. In theory.
A test run echoes off in the background; they both look up to see the car racing over the first blue overbanked turn. She turns with a smile. "See? You're feeling better already. Maybe you'll feel better by the end of the day."
He is left to ponder her words as she runs off, flanked by her three friends, dashing off to the next exciting activity on the shore. As he watches her go, he remembers a moment not so long ago -- that same morning, when she had met him for the first time. She hadn't said a word then, and yet, she had captivated both his imagination and his reality. And he watches her go now, knowing that he will never meet anybody like her...and wishing that she could stay forever.
Maybe she will save him. Maybe he will save her before she gets the chance.
Maybe they will be together.
...Maybe.

I also wanted to add these song lyrics today. They are actually rap lyrics, and I'm sure they can use refining.

I'm just an ordinary girl, I thought you knew
About the ordinariness and the blessings that come with it
I'm original, like mac and cheese
Don't know what's coming for me
I used to think being clueless was damning, now it's a dream
Don't hold a candle to me because I can't rap
I'm not ashamed anymore
Moxahala represent, it's a present
A gift from the past
From back where we began
It's a plan, and it's out of my hands
What can I say, 'cause you left before the credits ran
I sat there, waiting patiently for your hand
The door closed and I had nowhere to go
Except up to my Lord
He was the one I've been waiting for -- not you...

How dare you say that, it's not my choice
I would have never thrown you away
You were my joy, not a toy!
I spent weekends and spare days at your joint
Up at the Point -- what's the point
You're not listening
You sent a page in October saying we were done
One last slap in the face before you were gone
That was yesterday, what about today
I've got a beautiful husband and a blonde on the way
It's so confusing, what about losing
What about love and hope and dreams and deeds and saving the world
It's not a blast from the past that I'm hoping for
But a new horizon, a destiny foretold
Something I want instead of need, what the people tell me
Do they know what's best for me?
Do I know what's best for me?
Good night, millennium, good morning, my miko
Oyasumi, ohayo
Which is light and which is shadow?

I've spent my life running tail from the both of them
Avoiding either 'cause I'm told I'm not enough for them
Just because I'm a weaver, does that make me any less human?
Do I have regrets? Yes, I do; you're not one of them

If I could and it was all up to me
I would turn around and walk back to your feet
I'd hit my knees and plead for forgiveness from thee
But that's not the life that God has wanted for me
He's wanted me to be free
He's wanted me to be me
To see what I need to see
To be who I need to be
You were my miko, tall and strong
And I wouldn't have done it
Any different all along

Step away from the drama
Save the drama for your llama
See the colors for what they are
See us for who we are.

On a couple of other notes:

--Omigosh, guys, yay for paid account status! And the user info is finally up and done. Go check it out!
--My dad gave me food today. Yay Dad! I love you <3