|
|
Post by Dylan Colt on Nov 25, 2009 18:36:37 GMT -5
Another summer Saturday night and obviously there was something going on. Dylan didn't have to be a genius to figure that out with car load after car load of rowdy teenagers passing by. Most likely it was her sister or her ex-neighbors throwing some big party where all the popular kids went, drank, and did whatever it was those in the higher echelons of the social strata did. Truth be told, Dylan didn't even know about the parties that happened in her childhood home until last minute which essentially meant she wasn't invited.
Sitting on the swing set in Jefferson Park, she was fine with not going. She didn't like those people anyway. At least, that is what she told herself if only to make her feel better. What else would she need when she had the park to herself and a good book in her bag?
Pushing herself forward... it was nice having the whole space to herself. In fact it inspired her to be five years old and lean back so that she was almost upside down. Let all those other kids in the high school have their parties. Dylan was going to have just as much fun being a kid for one more night.
|
|
|
|
Post by Drake Penfallon on Nov 27, 2009 16:29:13 GMT -5
Drake sighed. He pulled his hand through his short blonde hair and stood looking up at the house – the house with the music and the party, and he turned away. Sure, he’d tried it out for an hour, after all, what party didn’t he get invited too? But Jenny had wandered off five minutes in and he hadn’t been able to find her since. So he’d left a message on her phone, which like normal at these things, was switched off, and just started walking. Away from the noise, away from the party, and into the depths of night.
He wasn’t sure where he was heading, just walking – his head slightly fuzzy from the beer he’d drunk, fuzziness he was sure the night air would soon dissipate. Sure enough, the further he worked in his jeans and shirt, the clearer the world became. The more lung full’s of ocean salted air he breathed, the less fuzzy his head felt.
He didn’t walk for too long, heading into the mostly empty park. The only people really around where those who liked to jog at night (he was an early morning man himself) and a couple of kids from school who decided parties where below their standards, and chose to get high in the bushes instead. Drake didn’t quite understand that logic, and just walked past them.
Then he saw familiar hair, the same old book bag and grinned, heading her way. Standing just in view when she would swing back, just far enough away he shoved his pockets in his hands and smiled. “Regressing, Dylan?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Dylan Colt on Nov 27, 2009 16:44:55 GMT -5
It was almost like flying... or being weightless. Dylan couldn't quite figure out which one but it was the closest she had come to the feeling she had when in the water. The wind rushing past her hears on every swing muffled out all the other mischief that went on around her. The sounds of giggles and chuckles, and even the steps of people running on the pavement. Either way she didn't care. Dylan was having fun. More shocking than that was that Dylan was having fun out of her house when it was past 10 at night.
Then on her forward swing, head thrown back she saw him standing behind her. Blinking her eyes as she sat upright, she thought that perhaps all the blood had rushed to her head and she was seeing things. Drake would never be at the park in her neighborhood... not when there was a party going on and he'd be expected to show up.
"No..." she slightly pouted pushing some hair behind her ear before looking at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were studying the ground more than looking at him. "It just... well it's a swing set and... well it seemed fun," she mumbled.
|
|
|
|
Post by Drake Penfallon on Nov 27, 2009 16:54:40 GMT -5
Drake chuckled at her startled expression, and come around her to sit on the swing next door, rocking himself back and forth with the balls of his feet. How long had it been since he had last sat on a swing set? The last time his mother had brought him to the park before she had died, he remembered with a pang in his chest. He hated when small things like this brought back painful memories. Still, he forgot about it, forced himself back into the present, rather than wallow in that summers day.
“Fun huh?” he asked, all too aware of the way she jumbled her words around him, seemed to bumbled her way through sentences. But he had seen her that day at school, when she had given the class presentation that time. He found it hard to believe after that that she could bumble her way through anything. Since, he had made it his mission to try and get her to talk to him without the shoe glancing, excuses and hesitancy. He wasn’t sure what he did to make her nervous, but he wasn’t the kind of guy to leave it alone either.
“I could use a bit of that myself.” He mused, and pushed off with his feet, leaning back on the swing.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dylan Colt on Nov 27, 2009 17:01:44 GMT -5
Coming to a dead stop she sort of leaned her swing away from him. Drake... king of the high school, leading man in her crush-like fantasies, golden boy who had the perfect girlfriend and would never even deign to look at someone like her... was sitting next to her and saying he needed fun. Dylan felt that at some point she must have fallen into another dimension because this wasn't happening. Sure he had said hi once or twice but this? Well Dylan was a bit shocked.
"Why aren't you at the party?" she asked implying that it sounded more of his type of fun than sitting on a swing set in the middle-class park. Drake had everything. Money, friends, popularity... and confidence. What really could have stopped him from having all the fun in the world?
"I mean... it seems like something you'd go to and you're always getting invites and you're class president and I'm sure Jenny likes them and all your friends are probably there..."
Then realizing everything she had just said, the girl that was on the debate team, and got straight A's got very embarrassed and very self conscious all at the same time.
"...sorry... I was babbling."
|
|
|
|
Post by Drake Penfallon on Dec 4, 2009 17:09:04 GMT -5
Drake listened to her babble, quite content to swing for a moment, though sowing down to the rocking motions of before as the questions continued to come. He couldn’t help but smile, small dimples forming at the corners of his cheeks as he did so. For someone who was so very smart, she could be so very clueless. Drakes gaze fell to the sneakers that clad to his feet for a moment – dark black they blended well into the gravel of the floor, even if they did crunch as he rocked from his heels to the balls of his feet, creating a soft swinging momentum that in turn, made the chains squeak.
“Been there, done that” he answered, in terms of the party. “After a while, every party sort of blurs into one, an it’s hard to tell the difference. And ye,” he chuckled softly, looking up. “Jenny does like them, and all our friends are there. She’d just rather second time with them for the moment.” Realising what he said a moment too late, he back channelled. “Geese Dyl… your babbling is infectious. Take it back.”
Pushing, Drake started swinging again, gently. “I dare you to see if you can get higher.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Dylan Colt on Dec 5, 2009 14:44:13 GMT -5
"Sorry," she said looking at the ground, scuffing her shoe against the gravel as she gently swung back and forth. If Drake was observant, he'd have noticed the knuckles on Dylan's hands were white from the tight grip she had on the chains. Dylan did not trust herself enough to be able to stay on the swing with Drake around. Some sort of klutzy thing was sure to happen.
"I wouldn't know about parties," she loftily waved with one hand like it was no big deal. Being a social nonexistent was easy. Most of the time Dylan enjoyed it. Right now she wished she could become nonexistent again.
Why was Drake even still here? Most people in his group of friends wouldn't give her any attention, so why him?
"You're going to win," Dylan stated with a slight pout fixing her skirt before rolling her eyes and sighing. Might as well just go ahead and try swinging. What could really go wrong?
"It's a good thing everyone is at the party... because this would be the biggest news around school..."
|
|
|
|
Post by Drake Penfallon on Dec 5, 2009 14:55:35 GMT -5
Drake continued to swing, each squeak of the chains taking him a little higher. He was quite enjoying this sensation – though compared to sailing it was nothing- but he would guess that it might be the closest you could come to flying, without putting your life in some form of mortal danger. Drake was definitely a man who liked to keep his feet firmly on the earth and sea, rather than dream of flying.
“You don’t know that!” He grinned as Dylan insisted that it was he who would win – how, after all, did she know this? It might turn out that Drake would chicken out once he got so high, and yet she would soar over the top, defeating him once and for all? There was never a way to tell anything; life itself was unpredictable, why should this be any different?
“Who cares?” he asked when she mentioned the news around school – most of the time Drake got fed up of being the top news, the name on everyone’s lips. It was tiring to be talked about for stupid little things like walking Elaine home, giving Isabelle a lift to the library – for swinging in the park with Dylan, someone he had known for years. “Sometimes, people should jus mind their own business.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Dylan Colt on Dec 5, 2009 15:04:03 GMT -5
"I would care," Dylan admitted just swinging a bit below him, her slight waves bouncing and skirt fluttering each time she began to move between the pauses of momentum. "It's bad enough when your sister gets talked about like a celebrity. I kind of like being anonymous and being seen with you makes me anything but."
Then realizing what she said could be termed as "mean" Dylan bit her lip and looked over at Drake. Of course that made the butterflies in her stomach worse.
"I didn't mean it like that... I mean... well you're popular and no one really cares about me and I don't think I'd know what to do if all of a sudden people realized I was even there."
She didn't know why she was telling Drake all this. Most of the time he made her feel uncomfortable in her own skin. But even when they were neighbors before she had to move he had been easy to talk to. More than anyone else. There were times she felt like she had known him for a lot longer than just the few years they had been around each other.
|
|
