The sun lit the world like a memory, as if Jackson were momentarily living life in reverse. The present was already immortalized, or at least that’s how it felt. Today was destined for greatness. The sun knew it, so did the flowers, and the birds even sang of it.

Jackson had conspired to skip school and the world now conspired to reward his recklessness. It had looked beautiful from the window in the classroom, but he couldn’t have possibly known it was this beautiful. The glimpse of sun and breeze had been so juxtaposed against the florescent tubes of light and the stuffy air within. He’d thought to ask Mr. Martino to open a window, but, as he already knew the answer, he’d chosen not to. Instead he’d asked to use the bathroom and found himself here, fleeing to the woods behind the school.

He was nearly to the forest by the time he heard the metal door click from across the grass field that would host Field Day in a few short weeks.

Jackson liked 6^th grade, he had friends, and despite his current predicament, he almost never got in trouble. It would be hard to explain what had happened today to his parents. His mother would cry, and his father would be stern. Normally, this would be the only thing preoccupying his mind, but today, the beauty of spring overwhelmed him.

He sprinted alongside buzzing bumblebees and low-flying robins, through the gravel track, and into the thin woodland path.

The sun was dulled here, poking in through the trees to check on Jackson’s journey in intervals. But Jackson traversed with ease, the comfort of iteration pushing him along.

His easy jog steadied to a brisk walk, pushed along by the electric excitement.

And he was rewarded by the sight of the stream before him. It was his spot. A favorite of his since he was a kid. It had been a kingdom in his imagination once but had become a nostalgic refuge from the grown world now. In fact, it always had been, the grown fears being a notorious shape-shifter. Just when you’d identified its shadowy face, it changed ever so slightly–familiar enough to gain entrance but abnormal enough to be a monstrous aberration.

But such aberrations weren’t welcome here.

The light of the sun shone along the water and Jackson grabbed a stone. It was the first one he saw—not perfect but circular enough for a throw.

He snapped his wrist and sent it skipping along the water.

One, two, it bounced along its surface before plunking into the water only to disappear.

He grabbed another, this one muddier but rounder than the first, snapped his wrist and set it free. It made three jumps, its final a shudder for life before giving in to the death rattle of the stream.

He was prepared to throw a third when a note grabbed his wrist.

It was a whistle, like a bird, but distinctly human, overlapping only in their beauty.

“Fancy meeting you here,” said a girl’s voice.

“I’m nervous,” said Jackson, proceeding with throwing this stone.

It skipped once, high and arcing before diving with a splash. Not dissimilar from the state of his heart now.

“Always honest,” said the girl, “Why so nervous?”

“I’m sure you could guess,” said Jackson, spinning around, his mouth suddenly dry.

He turned to look at Olivia now. He was disappointed to see she was gorgeous as ever, even in her outdoor attire. She had freckles that blanketed her cheeks, but, to Jackson, it did nothing but draw attention to her face and that’s where her smile stayed. Her smile glimmered always, and Jackson found himself craving its light. But now it made him nervous, as if he were under the spotlight.

“Is it because I like you?” asked Olivia.

Normally, Jackson would’ve tried to banter with her, but he was now at a frenzied level of emotion.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” he said, fully aware how lame it probably sounded, especially in his Kingdom.

“And you won’t for a little bit, Jackson,” said Olivia, “these things take time.”

“You’re the one who scheduled our kiss for today,” said Jackson, confused.

“Yeah, only to put your mind at ease, I know how you get,” said Olivia with a laugh, “but it needs to be somewhat romantic. I mean, it’s my first kiss too!”

“So just tell me when,” said Jackson.

“Well, that’s definitely not romantic,” replied Olivia, “I can’t tell you when.”

“So then, how will I know?”

“That’s half the fun,” said Olivia, her smile bigger than ever in her field of freckles, “now, c’mon, let’s go for a quick swim!”

“What’s the other half?” yelled Jackson after her, but she was already diving into the stream.