Laura Miller - Butterfly Weeds

“What’s your favorite sport?” I asked.

“Aah, basketball,” he said confidently.

“What’s your favorite food?” I continued.

“Umm, I don’t know. Aah…,” he stuttered.

“Will, the game doesn’t work if you don’t answer the first thing that comes to your head. It’s supposed to be the truth. You have to do it fast,” I tenderly protested with a happy smile, though I tried to show him the most serious face I could conjure up.

“Okay, pizza,” he said, grinning, yet slightly defeated.

“What’s your favorite summer job?” I asked.

“Umpiring,” he answered quickly.

“Okay, what do you want to be when you grow up?” I continued.

“Okay, Jules, that one I really don’t know. You know that. Skip,” he pleaded.

“Okay, fine,” I said. “I’ll answer for you — a famous musician.”

He was smiling and shaking his head when he looked up at me.

I continued.

“What’s a hobby not many people know you have?” I asked.

“Aah…playing guitar, I guess,” he said.

Who are you going to marry?” I rambled off quickly.

“You,” he answered without missing a beat.

I stopped suddenly. My expression went from almost blank to a wild smile in a matter of a simple second.

“Really?” I asked, just wanting to hear him say it again.

He smiled wildly also. “That surprises you?” he asked. “I’ve only asked you out every day I’ve known you.”

“I know, but I guess I just didn’t really think that far ahead,” I said, smiling softly and bringing my legs to a bent position, halfway up the hood of his SUV.

“You really want to marry me?” I asked.

“Of course I do. Well, if that’s okay with you?” he asked sheepishly.

I smiled a happy smile as I pressed my head against his muscular chest. I could smell the cologne that lingered on his tee shirt. It had become both a welcoming and comforting scent. It was attractive and familiar all at the same time.

“You want to grow old and wrinkly with me?” I asked.

“Maybe old, but not wrinkly,” he said back. I could tell he was smiling.

I wore my best half-smile and squinted my eyes up at him.

“Oh, that’s right. I was blessed with the good genes, so that means, you’ll have to grow wrinkly on your own,” I retaliated as I gently pinched his side.

Laughing, he squirmed slightly and then pulled me closer to him. And for a moment, neither of us said anything.

Then, I breathed in the subtle smell of wild flowers as I slowly leaned back against the windshield again. Thousands of fireflies flickered in the deep ebony, open fields around us, while what seemed like a billion stars extended from the highest point of the night sky to the tip of the shadowy tree line.

“Do you remember the first time we officially met?” Will asked, breaking the peaceful silence.

I thought hard, staring up into the endless sky, almost as if searching for the answer there.

“Was it the first day of school?” I asked finally.

“Yes,” he said confidently.

“Do you remember what you were doing?” he asked.

“Umm…no, I don’t think I do,” I replied, shaking my head.

“You were trying to get your duffle bag into your locker, and you were struggling so much that a book fell from your arms and hit your bare toes,” he said.

“You were watching me?” I asked with a surprised smile lighting up my face.

“I noticed you,” he said. “I don’t know how I couldn’t have. You were making such a fuss.”

I laughed. “Why didn’t you offer to help?”

“You looked too cute to interfere,” he said. “Your nose was all scrunched up and your eyes were closed so tight.”

“Oh gosh,” I groaned. “That was your first impression of me?”

“Yes, and it was then I knew I wanted you,” he said, smiling softly.

“Right,” I said. “I’m sure that was the defining moment.”

“It was,” he confessed.

“You really are beautiful, you know,” he said next, as his eyes returned to the heavens’ sea of stars.

I smiled wider, surrendering to another warm breeze gently pushing across my face.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I teased as I glanced up at him again before refocusing my attention too on the night’s sky.

Moments went by before either of us spoke again. It was I who finally, yet reluctantly, punctured the quiet with my find.

“Look, a shooting star,” I exclaimed, pointing to the vast west sky above, unable to control my excitement.

“Make a wish,” I said as I quickly shut my eyes, causing my nose to rumple and forcing a happy grin to my face yet again.

Then, I peeked out of one eye for a second to see Will following my lead. His eyes were closed tightly also. I was happy he had played along. He wasn’t exactly the make-a-wish-on-a-star type, like I had been raised to be.

I held my eyes clinched together until I recited a wish in my head and then looked back at Will. He was just opening his eyelids as well.

“What did you wish for?” I asked.

Will turned on his side and faced me. The moon was almost full, and the light reflecting off of it lit up his face just enough to make those blue eyes of his subtly visible. He really was gorgeous — the kind of subtle gorgeous that you found once you ripped away a childhood of rock-throwing, the kind of familiar gorgeous that could make you melt if you weren’t too careful. And his smile — that was his secret weapon. It had always been — even if I had never let him know that I had thought so. I was pretty sure he could solve all of the world’s problems with just that one, sweet smile of his.

I watched his irises make a line from my lips to my eyes. Then, in one gentle motion, he carefully tucked the few blond strands of my long curly locks that had lain to rest on my cheekbone behind my ear. His soft touch attracted my full attention.

He paused then for a couple more seconds, presenting me with just enough time to take everything — his sultry lips, his warm, blue eyes, his seductive smile — and bottle it all up, for safe keeping, of course. Then, as if there were no turning back at that moment, our eyes met, and he leaned closer, and hovered over my lips. My heart pounded, and the now, welcomed butterflies flocked in by the millions. But this time, there was no lanky boy to interrupt them.

I felt his lips finally meet mine, and I surrendered to his soft, gentle kiss.

I smiled when his lips eventually withdrew from mine. My heart continued to pound as he kept his piercing blue eyes on me. He seemed to be taking in my joy, just as I was taking in his. I probably could have run a marathon right then and still have been standing at the end, smiling and unfazed.

“You gonna be my butterfly forever?” he asked me then, softly, almost a whisper — his voice raspy, but comforting.

“Your butterfly?” I whispered, smiling, though a little bemused.

“Yeah, you’re as beautiful as a butterfly. C’mon, you know you want to be,” he coaxed playfully.

I laughed gently.

“Well, you’ve never asked it that way,” I whispered softly. I was thankful that he probably couldn’t see me blushing.

“Does that mean yes ?” he asked, grinning.

I paused for a moment.

I felt his hand take my hand as he intertwined his fingers with mine. I surprisingly loved the way my hand felt in his — loved and safe.

“That means yes ,” I confessed softly, allowing a smile to span across my face.

“That’s what I’ve waited my whole life to hear,” he said, smiling, as he kissed my forehead and then retook his place beside me.

We returned to unreserved silence then, as if emptying our souls without a word. It was funny how the same lips that had always incited so much speech — usually scolding — could also take it away so effortlessly. And now, with the silence, I couldn’t help but replay the previous set of moments in my mind over and over again — as if confirming their reality, as if verifying that it was, in fact, Will Stephens sitting beside me, the same Will Stephens that had been just another menacing boy a week ago — before I turned back toward him.