I'll Be Here

someone say that higher ground gives you an advantage.  I don’t like the idea of being on the ground while all six feet of Alex Faber towers over me.  He slips the sunglasses to the top of his head and squints at the brightness of the sun.  I kind of like that he’s taken the sunglasses off for my benefit. 
    “I thought that it was you but I wasn’t sure.”  He’s smiling.
    I realize that I’m smiling also and it feels a little silly but I’m having a hard time not smiling.  What the hell is wrong with me?  Stop smiling Willow! 
    “It’s me!”  Oh great, I sound like a total ditz.
    He laughs.  He has this great laugh.  I’d nearly forgotten that.  “I was hoping that I’d be able to find you in this crowd.” 
    He was ?  What is that supposed to mean?  I’m about to investigate this with a question when Alex speaks.  “Wow, I’d almost forgotten how red your hair is in the sun.”
    Automatically I touch the tips of my hair.  It is red in the sun—embarrassingly so.  What’s worse than having pale skin and freckles?  Having pale skin, freckles, and reddish hair. 
    “Ugh.  I know.  I’ve been thinking of dyeing it for something different.  A darker brown or maybe even blond highlights.”
    “No!”  Alex says it so fast that my head snaps up in surprise.  He’s got his eyebrows knitted together.  Three deep valleys meander across his forehead.  “I mean… why would you want to do that?”
    I bite my lip.  “Well, you know—red hair and freckles are decidedly not cool.”
    “I think that they are on you .” 
    Now he’s staring at me so deeply that I feel a pressure around my heart.  What the heck is that supposed to mean?  I try to think of a compliment to say back—maybe about his sunglasses, which I completely dig, or the way his eyes match the sky today, which makes me sound like a dork, or that his shorter hair makes him look older… but the words won’t form on my tongue.  I shuffle my feet.
    Alex coughs.  “Anyway, your hair’s not red—it’s more of an auburn color.”
    “Auburn?”  I echo.
    He reaches forward and catches a tendril between his fingers and looks carefully like he’s examining it for scientific purposes.  “Yes, auburn ,” he insists with a small smile.  “And bronze with just a touch of gold.” 
    I swallow a gulp of air into my constricted chest and try to ignore the sensations creeping across my scalp.  It’s like every hair on my head is standing alert, ready to betray me and shout: “touch me next!”
    Clearly Alex knows that I am struggling, so he breaks the awkward moment by changing the subject.  He gestures to the small tin of pencils on the grass beside me.  “I thought you’d stopped drawing.  That’s what my mom told me awhile ago.”
    So he and Brooke do talk about me…
    I shrug.  “I’m just playing around today.  I’m honestly a little rusty.  When I saw you over there,” I gesture to where he’d been standing earlier, “I was experimenting with light and dark.”
    “Can I see?”
    Can he see?  My sketchbook? 
    Ummm… No. 
    Does that sound bitchy? 
    I sort of laugh but it’s not really a laugh.  “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”  I am shaking my head.  “But, I will let you pose for me.”
    Did I just ask Alex if I could draw him?
    What the hell is wrong with me?
    He thinks about this briefly and with a wicked smile he turns his head to the side and strikes a ridiculous pose.  “Shirt on or off?”
    Jesus.  I think a shirtless Alex Faber may actually cause me to go into cardiac arrest.  “Uhhh…”
    “I was just kidding Willow.”  He laughs.  
    I take a seat at the bench and proceed to draw Alex Faber.  It’s a quick sketch—full of brief lines and dark smudges—just to make up the edges of him. 
    “Done?”
    “Just about.”
    A minute later Alex turns to face me head-on.  I am still looking and I catch my breath.  I start a second drawing on a new sheet of paper.  With a new purpose, I can study his eyes without feeling like a total creeper.  In the sun they are almost clear—like an aquamarine stone that you hold against the light. 
    He tilts his head and the corners of his mouth lift.  He opens his mouth to say something but then it snaps shut.  His eyes, focused on something behind me, narrow and I start to turn around to see what’s captured his attention.  “Wh—?”
    A large, muscled arm snakes around my middle and I jump about a