By Emily Little
The breeze made the trees laugh with us. I always got butterflies when I made you smile like that. I wish I knew how to do that all the time. “Hey, lie down with me. The clouds are having fun up there.” You pointed up, with that smile still beaming. I lay down, resting my head next to yours and this senseless touch made me blush. The grass tickled my ankles as my feet stretched out past the edge of the blanket. “What are you seeing?” I asked quietly now, afraid I’d scare the clouds away. “A winter rose,” you whispered. “You?” “An albino hummingbird.” I pointed. “Oh, a rarity,” you breathed. “Is this your favorite part of summer?” I crossed my feet and rested my hands on my stomach. “It used to be.” “What is it now?” I watched as my hummingbird changed shape. You turned onto your side, looking down at me. “Can you guess?” you asked resting your head on your hand. I blushed again, feeling ablaze. “Nope.” You sighed, lying back down. “Then you’ll never know.” A comforting silence hung between us as you watched more clouds drift. I only watched the rise and fall of your chest. I still wonder if you noticed the roses in my cheeks that day. I still wonder if you heard my breath catch when your hand reached for mine. All I know now is that that was my favorite part of summer. And I never found out yours.
Also by Emily Little: Sweet