Swings

Kindergarten.

Marie Jane Jay sniffled as she swung her legs inches from the ground on the brand new swing set at the playground while all the other little kids ran around playing tag or hide-and-go-seek or climbing on the monkey bars. She let her auburn hair scatter across her face as she rubbed tears out of her honey-brown eyes. Her head snapped up when she felt a light tap on her shoulder.

Blinking quite a bit, she stared into the eyes of a small boy with hair as dark as the night and dancing star-eyes to match. He gave a wide grin and plopped himself right on the ground in front of her. “Hi.” he breathed. “My name’s Will.”

Marie Jane’s lower lip quivered. Sniffling again, she responded, “Hi.”

“Are you sad, Marie Jane?” the boy asked, tilting his head to the side

Marie Jane wondered how in the world this boy could possibly know her name, but nodded anyways.

Tilting his head to the side again, he looked deep in thought and stared off into the sky for a whole five minutes, leaving Marie Jane to stare at him quite oddly. “Aha!” he jumped to his feet, nearly startling Marie Jane off her seat on the swing. She opened her mouth to ask what, but didn’t get a chance to, as Will was already running off to somewhere behind the slide.

Quite a while later, Will returned, panting and looking as if he were about to pass out. Finally, he lifted his head to meet Marie Jane’s gaze. He lifted his hands to show a little white daisy plucked delicately with all its petals and leaves perfectly in place. “When my momma’s sad, daddy always goes to buy her bunches of flowers, and it always cheers her up.” He said with a smile. Marie Jane reached out and slowly swept the flower out of his hands, holding it softly between her fingertips. “But all of the other kids squished all the other flowers, and this was all I could find.”

Marie Jane suddenly began to cry, tears streaming down her cheeks like a waterfall. Will jumped, frantically trying to cheer her up. “Aw, I’m sorry Marie Jane! I’ll—I’ll go find some more flowers if you want. As many of them as you ask—just tell me how much and I’ll go grab them for you!” Marie Jane shook her head wildly, crying even harder. “No? You don’t like flowers? I’ll go catch a butterfly for you if you want!”

Marie Jane hopped off the swing, tackling Will to the ground with a great big hug. “Thfankhoo, Mhill.” She said, her voice muffled into the chest of his red t-shirt. She sniffled, looking up at his dark eyes.

He grinned. “Anytime, Marie Jane.”

Second Grade.

Marie Jane giggled, her ponytailed hair bouncing up and down as she skipped her way to Will, who, to her surprise, was chatting with Dylan O’Conner, who is, in fact, a quite rude and mean boy. He was the annoying little chubby kid that sat behind her in class and poked her head with a pencil every day. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but brushed him aside and merrily continued her way to Will.

She gave a wide smile. “Hi Will!”

He gave a quick glance at her, then turned and started walking away.

Marie Jane stared behind him with a confused look. Pouting, she turned to Dylan, gave him a good kick in the shin for poking her in class, and then quickly ran after Will. “Hey, wait up!”

Will sighed and turned to face her. “What.”

Marie Jane looked rather taken aback by his response, but once again, brushed it aside. “Wanna play tag?”

Will shook his head. “No.”

“Wanna go on the slides?”

“No.”

“Monkey bars?”

“No.”

“Swings?”

“No.”

Marie Jane put a finger on her chin, looking up and thinking of some more things that they usually did at recess together. “Are you gonna do anything today?” she asked.

He gave her a stone look. “Yes.”

“Great! What are we doing?”

“Nothing.”

Marie Jane looked confused. “I thought you said we were gonna do something.”

He looked her in the eyes, a pained expression that Marie Jane did not notice on his face. “No, I said I was doing something.”

Marie Jane flinched. “What do you mean?”

He sighed and turned slightly away from you. “It means I don’t want to play anything with you, Marie Jane.”

Will swallowed, turning his back and walking away with a guilt that Marie Jane could not see.

Tears formed at the brim of her eyes, and long after he left, she questioned, “Why?”

Fourth Grade.

Marie Jane frowned, long auburn and black-streaked hair fluttering in the wind as she pushed herself of the ground on a swing. She watched Will holding hands with a petite blonde haired, blue-eyed girl, who was laughing and smiling beside him. He grinned as well, but his smile did not reach his eyes.

Looking behind him, he caught Marie Jane’s gaze. Flinching, she turned her head and began talking with Dylan O’Conner, who, she decided, was no longer chubby, mean, rude, or annoying at all.

A feeling of sadness and regret washed over Will. But nobody saw it.

Seventh Grade.

Marie Jane closed her eyes, trying her very hardest to push away the memories of the elementary playground—a memory she associated with William Bane, a boy she should have let go of years ago.

She slammed her locker door shut and weaved her way through the middle school crowd, dodging screaming girls and trampled chocolate and carelessly torn love letters and PDA couples.

“I hate Valentine’s Day.” Marie Jane looked to her left where Dylan O’Connor, whom she had grown quite close to over the past years, appeared.

Marie Jane gave a small laugh. “Hey, it’s not that bad.” He raised an eyebrow at her, to which she simply grinned. But less than a heartbeat later, any sign of happiness or even the slightest of joy was suddenly erased from her face as she saw William Bane and his girlfriend, Melissa Jones, strutting down the hall, hand in hand and completely ‘in love’. “On second thought, it sucks.”

Dylan chuckled, seeming completely oblivious to the reason for her reaction.

Marie Jane continued to glare, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. As the couple turned the corner to rejoice their togetherness, a small awkward silence enveloped Marie Jane and Dylan.

“Will you go out with me?” Dylan suddenly blurted.

Marie Jane widened her eyes. After a long pause, she finally answered, “What?”

“Will you,” he said slowly, pointing at Marie Jane. “Go out with me.” He motioned to himself.

Dylan O’Conner was never the type to be nervous or ever really care of what people thought, and if there was ever a time that he was scared about something, he was always frighteningly good at hiding it, so it was much to Marie Jane’s surprise to see him with a slight fear in his eyes. And what she found even more surprising was the fact that she said yes.

Tenth Grade.

Marie Jane sat motionless on the old rusted swings of her elementary school playground, eyes red and dry of tears.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Marie Jane’s head snapped towards Dylan. She gulped and hid her surprise with confusion. “I’m in love with who…?”

Dylan sighed, shaking his head. “You know exactly who I mean, Marie Jane.” He looked up at her. She blinked and shook her head. He held her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. “William Bane, Marie Jane. Can you look at me and honestly say that you aren’t in love with him?”

She met his gaze and saw a hopefulness that broke her heart. She closed her eyes and pulled away.

Dylan flinched, reaching out, almost as if he were wishing to hold on. But he drew his hand back and nodded. “I love you.” And he walked away, leaving Marie Jane in the same fashion Will did so long ago—words replaced but impact just the same.

“Are you sad, Marie Jane?”

A voice so familiar, yet so distant—so different, but oh-so the same echoed from behind her.

She closed her eyes. She should hate him. She should’ve forgotten about him. She couldn’t.

Marie Jane nodded her head slowly, not even wondering how in the world he knew where she was.

She felt his hands snake around her waist, placing a single little white daisy on her lap. “I’m sorry Marie Jane.” He whispered into her hair.

“Why did you ruin my life for all these years, William Bane?” she asked, her voice cracked and soft.

Will was silent for a whole five minutes, looking at the sky, deep in thought as he held her in his arms. “Because I love you.”

Tears slowly dropped from Marie Jane’s eyes, one by one falling on to the little white daisy on her lap. She knew she should hate him. She knew she should forget about him. But she didn’t—she couldn’t. She loved him.

“I’m sorry Marie Jane. I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear.” He said softly. He gripped the chains of the swings handle bars. “You can hate me, if you want. I’ll tell Dylan that—“

Marie Jane kissed William Bane. It wasn’t passionate or filled with great desire, or even filled with fireworks. It was soft and sweet and real. It was love.

Fin.