bench and held out her hand. “Come on. We’ve gotta let this baby go and get some pictures.”
Hardy, unable to recover quite as quickly, had to work to find a smile to return. But he did. And then he took her proffered hand and stood to his feet. “Lead the way.”
She grinned impishly at him and turned to drag him toward the gazebo. At that moment, Hardy knew he’d follow her anywhere.
********
They were out of film by lunchtime. Hardy had brought six rolls plus the ones already in each camera, but they’d burned through them in no time. The funny thing was, Hardy knew when he developed them there would be very few shots of Miracle’s balloon floating off into oblivion. Although they’d both snapped a few pictures, the moment had been so poignant they’d spent the majority of the time just watching the balloon rise, each lost in silent thought.
Sniffling had brought Hardy’s eyes back to Miracle. Her face was tilted toward the sky and tears were streaming from the corners of her eyes across her temples to wet the hair just beyond. He’d felt uncomfortable staring at her, although he really wanted to, so he’d forced his eyes back to the balloon. But he’d been compelled to do something, anything to give her some comfort, some support, so he’d reached over and grabbed her hand, holding it between them on the bed of the grass.
She’d let him hold it for quite a while, long past the time when her sniffles had died off. Hardy could’ve stayed that way forever—sitting with Miracle, holding her hand, staring up into the perfect sky—but the intimacy of the scene had been destroyed by a group of kids with kites that seemed to emerge out of nowhere.
Hardy knew exactly how she felt when he heard Miracle sigh.
“Wanna go grab some lunch? My treat,” he asked lightly. Even though the morning had been incredibly comfortable, he suddenly found himself nervous.
Miracle looked at him solemnly, nearly making his heart stop in disappointment. But then she smiled.
“Lunch sounds great, but only if it’s my treat.”
“Nope. It’s on me.”
“Absolutely not. I used all your film!” Miracle argued.
“That’s why I brought it. So it’s still my treat.”
Miracle started to argue and Hardy reached out to put his finger over her lips. It was meant to be a playful gesture. Yes, for Hardy it had the added benefit of being able to touch her, but he really did mean for it to be playful. It quickly turned more serious, however, when Miracle’s eyes met his and he felt her lips relax beneath his finger, parting slightly. Hardy lost awareness of everything around him except for the feel of Miracle’s soft mouth and warm breath against his skin.
Slowly, Miracle raised her hand and wound her fingers around his wrist to pull his hand away from her mouth just enough for her to speak.
“Then next time it’s my treat. Deal?”
As long as there was sure to be a next time, Hardy would’ve agreed to anything. “Deal,” he agreed. “Now, what kind of food do you like?”
“Anything and everything. I’m not picky.” At Hardy’s wide smile, Miracle asked, “What?”
“It’s just a nice change, that’s all.”
“From what?”
“From superficial girls who don’t eat. I’d take a girl like you any day.”
“Oh,” Miracle said, smiling shyly. “Thank you.”
Hardy wanted so badly to reach out and touch her pinkening cheeks. But he didn’t. “How about Mexican food then?”
“Sounds good. I love nachos! With extra cheese. And jalapenos.”
“Jalapenos? Omigod, I love you!” Hardy exclaimed, rolling his eyes heavenward.
“I love spicy food.”
“So do I. And I’ve got just the place for you.”
With that, Hardy led Miracle to his car and they sped off to one of Hardy’s family’s favorite restaurants.
********
They’d just ordered their food and were talking about developing their film in the school’s dark
Hardy, unable to recover quite as quickly, had to work to find a smile to return. But he did. And then he took her proffered hand and stood to his feet. “Lead the way.”
She grinned impishly at him and turned to drag him toward the gazebo. At that moment, Hardy knew he’d follow her anywhere.
********
They were out of film by lunchtime. Hardy had brought six rolls plus the ones already in each camera, but they’d burned through them in no time. The funny thing was, Hardy knew when he developed them there would be very few shots of Miracle’s balloon floating off into oblivion. Although they’d both snapped a few pictures, the moment had been so poignant they’d spent the majority of the time just watching the balloon rise, each lost in silent thought.
Sniffling had brought Hardy’s eyes back to Miracle. Her face was tilted toward the sky and tears were streaming from the corners of her eyes across her temples to wet the hair just beyond. He’d felt uncomfortable staring at her, although he really wanted to, so he’d forced his eyes back to the balloon. But he’d been compelled to do something, anything to give her some comfort, some support, so he’d reached over and grabbed her hand, holding it between them on the bed of the grass.
She’d let him hold it for quite a while, long past the time when her sniffles had died off. Hardy could’ve stayed that way forever—sitting with Miracle, holding her hand, staring up into the perfect sky—but the intimacy of the scene had been destroyed by a group of kids with kites that seemed to emerge out of nowhere.
Hardy knew exactly how she felt when he heard Miracle sigh.
“Wanna go grab some lunch? My treat,” he asked lightly. Even though the morning had been incredibly comfortable, he suddenly found himself nervous.
Miracle looked at him solemnly, nearly making his heart stop in disappointment. But then she smiled.
“Lunch sounds great, but only if it’s my treat.”
“Nope. It’s on me.”
“Absolutely not. I used all your film!” Miracle argued.
“That’s why I brought it. So it’s still my treat.”
Miracle started to argue and Hardy reached out to put his finger over her lips. It was meant to be a playful gesture. Yes, for Hardy it had the added benefit of being able to touch her, but he really did mean for it to be playful. It quickly turned more serious, however, when Miracle’s eyes met his and he felt her lips relax beneath his finger, parting slightly. Hardy lost awareness of everything around him except for the feel of Miracle’s soft mouth and warm breath against his skin.
Slowly, Miracle raised her hand and wound her fingers around his wrist to pull his hand away from her mouth just enough for her to speak.
“Then next time it’s my treat. Deal?”
As long as there was sure to be a next time, Hardy would’ve agreed to anything. “Deal,” he agreed. “Now, what kind of food do you like?”
“Anything and everything. I’m not picky.” At Hardy’s wide smile, Miracle asked, “What?”
“It’s just a nice change, that’s all.”
“From what?”
“From superficial girls who don’t eat. I’d take a girl like you any day.”
“Oh,” Miracle said, smiling shyly. “Thank you.”
Hardy wanted so badly to reach out and touch her pinkening cheeks. But he didn’t. “How about Mexican food then?”
“Sounds good. I love nachos! With extra cheese. And jalapenos.”
“Jalapenos? Omigod, I love you!” Hardy exclaimed, rolling his eyes heavenward.
“I love spicy food.”
“So do I. And I’ve got just the place for you.”
With that, Hardy led Miracle to his car and they sped off to one of Hardy’s family’s favorite restaurants.
********
They’d just ordered their food and were talking about developing their film in the school’s dark
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