New To The Feeling

Wylie and I made our way down my street towards a park. The park was merely a grass field, but was surrounded by trees and bushes. It felt secluded and quite lonely, however, was a good place for a stroll. We decided to do so after we had eaten dinner with my colorful family. Sunday's were the day that Kenny, my older brother, came home for dinner. He only did this once a week, maybe twice if he needed to wash laundry. We sat around the table arguing and being loud just as we always have. Poor Wylie must have felt out of place. All I could think of was his home, living with an abusive father and without the care of a mother. I know he's technically an adult, but so am I and I still don't feel grown-up yet. Wylie probably had to grow up way back when, but I can't imagine anyone giving up their childhood without a fight. The other thought that came to my head while we all ate our over-cooked meat, was that being around a family like mine would be good for him. I consider my family normal. Yes, we are loud and obnoxious and tied to my mother's southern roots, but we live in an average house, in an average neighborhood. We all drive average cars and do average things. I may have been over-analyzing Wylie's need for normality, but I don't believe that it could hurt him at all.

All these thoughts rushed through my head in nonstop cycles as we walked. Before I knew it, we were at the park. Wylie was a bit ahead of me. He turned to face me and walked backwards in front of me. I looked up from the ground and instead of seeing the usual tough-guy Wylie, I could see the little boy; I could see him answering the phone and saying goodbye to his mother for the last time, though he didn't know it. I could see the child that would cower in the corner of his room hoping that his drunken stepfather wouldn't find him, until later in life when he could fight back. Even in fighting back, Wylie seemed to lose. Black eyes and bruised knuckles heal, however this broken child from a broken family will never fully understand how it feels to be whole.

"Why are you looking at me that way?" Wylie said abruptly and quite fiercely, catching me off-guard.

I stopped in my tracks wide-eyed a moment before responding, "I didn't know I was looking at you weird."

"Oh. You were." He turned and continued walking.

"Um..." I stopped myself. I wanted to speak to him, but I had no idea what I was to say.

"Yeah?" He turned to face me again, still looking menacing. His mood swings were worse than mine.

"Nothing. Nevermind." I kicked a rock before looking up then realizing that I was standing dangerously close to him. Apparently, I had continued walking, where as he had stopped.

I'm a full head shorter than Wylie, if not more, and I stood looking up at him standing like a statue; I could hardly sense his breathing. Come to think of it, I don't believe I was breathing. Wylie stepped back away from me without saying a word and turned to continue walking. I sighed in relief that he hadn't done something, or anything for that matter.

I followed him out into the center of the field. Wylie had sat down facing west. The field sat nestled between a small street and a downhill bank. The street was to the east, leaving the bank to the west; to the north and south were homes. I came beside him and sat. The sun was going down and the street lights had just recently flicked on. I could see the first few stars glow through the overpowering orange sunlight as it turned to a deep purple and faded to black. I lied back watching each star appear in the early night sky. Wylie finally lied back next to me. There was about a body width between us. The cool grass made me itch all over, but I ignored it. I suddenly remembered when we were by the ocean watching the sunset and the poetic thoughts he relayed to me.

"So, if the sunset is passion, what are the stars? I like the sunset because the stars come after it." I stopped, half waiting for an answer, but continued when he seemed to be waiting for me, "Well, if passion comes first, what comes after passion? I guess it would be relaxing and calm." I paused just a moment to take a breath, but Wylie butt in.

"Reflection." I waited, but he stopped.

"Reflection?" I repeated.

"Yeah. Passion is heated and fast paced. After the heat of the day has turned to the cool night air, the stars come out to mimic the light of the passed days. Each star represents a day where the sun has rose and set. Stars are simply distant suns, which is exactly the past." He stopped for a second, which I assumed was to collect his thoughts; I was right, "Have you ever noticed you can't count the stars? You lose track. Why do you think that is. We can't count the days before this one... there's too many. We can guess, but no one is sure how long we've been around."

"I've never thought of that," I replied, "The sunset is passion, which I can understand, but I'm not sure I understand why the stars are reflection." At this moment Wylie looked at me, both of us laying on our backs.

"Reflection doesn't just mean looking back on what's happened before. It's taking a moment to calm down and stop. If there isn't something to look back on, then we're left with nothing to move forward to. If passion didn't happen, then the what would we reflect on and where would the stars go?" Wylie looked down to my hand that was unconciously stroking the grass. He took it into his rough hand and held it up above us, looking at my silhouetted hand against the diamond encrusted black velvet sky, "Good things and bad things come of passion. Passion can change the world and passion can break a heart. The ending of passion allows us, as humans, to hold someone else close to us so that we may embrace in the joy or cradle in the mourning."

With this last bit, Wylie fell silent. I knew he was done and I didn't want to break the moment. I had my head turned toward him so that my newly cut hair was falling in my face, but it didn't matter. I was reflecting on the previous day and wondering what tomorrow would bring. Wylie continued to hold my hand. He let our hands, entwined in one another, fall gently to the grass between us. He looked over to me and using his other hand, he brushed the hair out of my face. It simply fell back in the way.

My mind was reeling as we lied there, hand in hand, staring at the sky. I won't pretend I didn't think of Jake. I thought of him many times at that moment, but every time his face came to mind, Wylie adjusted his hand, always holding it tighter afterwards. This should have frightened me; it should have made me want to run, but I didn't want to run. I didn't want to move from that spot. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs and I wanted to embrace him in the joy of reflection.

"What's up?" He said casually.

"Nothing." I couldn't help but giggle.

"Yeah, yeah. Sounds good." He nodded his head.

"So, how are you?" I said kindly.

"I'm good, you?" He asked.

"I'm good." I replied. Then laughed.

"What is this?" He questioned me; I looked at him puzzled.
"What is what?" I asked.

"This," he lifted our hands, "What is it?"

"Hands." I thought this was a clever reply, I don't think he agreed.

"Funny, Skylar. No really. What is this?" I could hear the frustration in his voice and I knew him enough to understand that after the frustration came the hostility.

"I don't know, Wylie. You grabbed my hand." At this, I let go and stood up.

"Don't walk away!" He hollered at me as I began walking towards the bank. I didn't respond and before I knew it, he was jogging after me, "Why are you walking away?!"

He grabbed me and turned me to face him.

"Because I don't know what else to do." I said it so calmly I surprised myself.

"Sky, you can't just walk away." He responded calmly also.

"What am I supposed to do? I have a boyfriend, in case you've forgotten." I had raised my voice, which I realized immediately after, it would cause Wylie to do the same.

"Dump him! The guys an asshole anyway!"
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"STOP!" I screamed at him, "Do not talk about my boyfriend like that. He takes care me of better than any other person has. He makes sure I'm safe and happy. He saved me from YOU once even!" At this, I cupped my hand over my mouth, knowing I had gone too far.

Wylie looked hurt. I thought of the day I insulted him before. How am I to help someone if I can't seem to stop hurting their feelings? I thought, But he's hurt mine.

"You don't get to walk away from me, either, Wylie!" I yelled.

"Oh yeah?" He continued walking away.

I sprinted up behind him and grabbed him. He instantly turned and threw his other arm against my chest, knocking me down. I smacked my head against the grass and writhed for a moment. I had hit a rock also. I checked my head for blood, but wasn't bleeding. I didn't think I was injured, but I knew it hurt. Wylie stooped down next to me, holding my back for support and was close to my face. He kept repeating "I'm sorry..." over and over. My heart way pounding and I was breathing heavily. I sat there with my legs stretched out in front of me with my head slightly bowed, but leaning against his head with his one arm behind my back for support and the other against my neck. I hadn't noticed that hand before, but now I reached up and placed one hand over his. My breathing slowed with my heart beat as we sat that way.

"I'm so sorry, Skylar. I didn't mean to. It's a natural reaction... my father..." Wylie trailed off.

"It's... it's ok. I.. I shouldn't have chased after you like that. I'm sorry for what I said."

"No, don't be. I'm overreacting. I deserved it." He rubbed his hand against my neck and pushed his forehead against mine. I gasped, caught off guard by his closeness.

"Wylie...I..." I tried.

"No.." He held me close then helped me stand. We began walking towards my home.

I began to cry silently.