I run up the inclined block of our junior high school to chase after her, slowly being swallowed by the darkness, I am blind as to where she is leading me. Once I reach the peak of the corner, she is no longer visible, I believe she has vanished into the shadows of the looming park across the street.
I know her, for almost three years we attended the same school and even studied music together, a mutual passion we both share. We also share common friends, but there exists an anxiety between us since we do not know of each other outside of school. At the moment, I am aware she is mentally unstable and I feel an obligation to protect her. Her decision to run away from home and to experience life has somehow brought us together tonight, compelling my responsibility to care for her well being.
I race into the vast mysterious park in hopes to find her. I recognize her petite frame in the shadows attempting to fill up her bottle at the water fountain. But she is too intoxicated; she is unable to line up the spout with the opening of the bottle. I chuckle lightly at her ineffectiveness and ask if I could assist her. Our gentle fingertips touch as she passes the cold plastic bottle into my possession, while in perfect sequence, all four sparkling brown eyes lock into place with one another. The anxiety between us disappears instantly. Neither one of us had prior thoughts or intentions on a relationship with the other, this is the work of fate.
As I fill her bottle, she asks “Would you sit with me underneath the playground?” I agree as her request shields us from the rest of the world and its chaos. With the playground guarding us from above, we sit on the floor and speak about life, our love for music, and our ambitions, becoming totally oblivious in respect to our concerned friends and the rest of our problems. I feel captivated by our communication, how open we are, and how well we understand one another.
It’s evident we are both attracted to each other, our first interaction outside of school has made a strong impression that neither one of us can deny. I am too shy to admit this to her, and instead, explain my feelings of guilt for speaking to her while she is inebriated. She becomes irritated and impatient with me for being a prude and having respect for her. She becomes more forward about her feelings for me and asks me out. Two unsettled youths, one who falls in love drunk and the other drunk off love.
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There's something attractive about the oddly formal prose here--'compelling my responsibility to care for her well being' sounds almost as if it's translated from another language. I'm especially drawn to the third to last line, where the tension is raised between the two characters, one of whom is certain they are doing the right thing. The passivity there matches the prose nicely. That said, a little of that formality goes a long way, and you might find value in a more conversational tone....
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