Flower scented on the breeze flow gently toward me while the grass ruffles like a dog shaking the water off its fur. The sun beating down on this hot summer day lessened only by a finger wisp wind. I pick a tender daisy, touching each delicate petal. I pluck each petal, he loves me, he loves me not, the simplistic childhood game of simple hope that the boy feels the same. Eight petals fall slowly, delicately to the ground. He loves me not. The hope a child feels diminishes as the last petal falls. He loves me not, the sound echoes through my thoughts. Oh, how I wish he did. He loves me not. I hear a crunch, grass stamped down by a tennis shoe. Crunch; loudly coming from behind, I stand quickly, startled by how fast they had approached. I turn to meet him standing behind me. Short blond hair, but long enough for a tiny ponytail and crystal blue eyes that resonate understanding. S harp cheek bones, gentle smile he continues to stare. He stands only slightly taller than me, an average height for a 15-year-old. Lean but muscular, I stare hypnotized by his eyes. His hands placed behind his back. He speaks. His deep rich voice fills my ears “I love you.” He pulls from behind his back a bouquet of daisies. My heart swells with joy at his words and… Ring, the screeching school bell startles me awake. I stand up dazed as I find myself back in math class. I can’t believe I was dreaming.
~ Mackenzie Witter, Saline, Michigan