Oh my.
He guided me to a place among some aspen trees, the windsifting through the silver-dollar-sized leaves, making a kind of soft musicthat was the perfect soundtrack to this adventure.
There I found, after he shrugged off his backpack and putdown the cooler, I’d been right.He pulled out a blanket and spread it on theground then gestured for me to sit.
He sat with me, and out of the cooler came some sodas andbottles of water, sandwiches, then from the backpack came a big bag of chipsand some homemade cookies.
He’d even remembered to bring napkins.
“Mom made the cookies for us,” he told me as he set them onthe blanket.
Okay, so maybe his mom reminded him to bring napkins.
But when he shared this, I felt something strange.Strangeand beautiful.
Because he said that not like it was simply a fact, or withany nuance he was embarrassed about his mom making him cookies to take on hisdate, but like he was proud of it.
It was then it hit me.One of the reasons I liked him(outside of him being so cute, and tall, and his lashes so perfect).
He just knew who he was.
I had no idea who I was.I didn’t know anyone our age thatknew who they were.
But Darius did.
He knew the perfect place to take a first date and he lovedhis mom and didn’t care who knew it.
Having these thoughts, something was happening.Somethingfierce and frightening and wonderful, all at once, and I wasn’t feeling itbecause I was out with the cutest, most popular boy in school.
“That’s sweet,” I replied, but my voice was husky with thethoughts I was thinking and the things I was feeling.
He smiled at me then unwrapped his sandwich.
He took a bite, chewed, swallowed, then looked again to mewhile I was chewing my own bite.“I want you to know that it’s only ever beenLee, Eddie, Hank and me that have come up here.”
In other words, this wasn’t his normal date spot, where hetook girls to impress them with his romantic sensibilities and picnic-packingcapabilities in an effort to get into their pants.
It was a spot for him and his buddies.
And me.
Lord.
There they were, more things I was feeling.Lots more.Oodlesmore.
And they were allawesome.
“Oh,” was all I could think to say.
“Yeah,” he replied, that smile still in place, a tease inhis voice.“Oh.”
“It’s beautiful,” I told him.
“I know,” he said, not taking his gaze from me.
I pressed my lips together because he wasn’t talking aboutthe meadow, and knowing I was correct earlier, that Darius thought I wasbeautiful, pushed its way to the top of my feelings, and that feeling feltamazing.
“Eat,” he encouraged, “So we can get into the fun stuff.”
