"You're right," I agreed, saying quietly, "This is something I've really look forward to." "Me too," he smiled softly, "I haven't been so excited for a date in... ever." "A GARDEN GNOME!" I yelled, tapping my finger against the glass. My face pressed against the window and I pointed at the receding garden gnome on the side of the road. "LUKE! There's a garden gnome on the street!" "Ok, ok," he said, slowing the car down. He muttered, "We would stop for a garden gnome." Before the car had come to a full stop, I threw my seat belt off in the most dramatic of fashions and hopped out of the car. Yes, hopped. "Gnomey!" I yelled, running towards it. This gnome had the exact same yellow hat that my one had. I ran towards it and picked it up from the side of the road, swinging it in my arms, "This looks exactly like my gnome!" I stared back at Luke, who was failing to react with as much excitement. He took his time getting out of the car. I searched for any identifier, anything to suggest where it had come from. A folded note slipped out of its clay hand. Confused, I opened it. Good things come to gnomes who wait. I looked up. "Luke, did you write this?" I recognized the chicken scratch handwriting. Luke's chicken scratch is what confused the camp counselors this summer when they thought we lived in the same house and could therefore live in the same cabin. I'd never forget that handwriting. Holding gnomey in my arms, I turned to face him. "Was this meant to be here? Did you plant this?" He didn't respond. He stood still a few yards away from me with his blue eyes smoldering into an ocean of colors. And that's when I saw a furry animal in the grass beside his feet. I pointed at it. He didn't move and it didn't move. I walked towards the creature and realized it was a stuffed animal. A lemur, to be precise. I picked it up and read the note hanging off its tail: You can't rush something you want to last. The zen lemur. Before I could react, I spotted another animal a little further ahead. I ran towards it, knowing already that it was a stuffed animal Luke had planted. A raccoon. I plucked it out of the grass and read the note: You may be the world's worst driver, but you know how to drive me crazy. The emotions were bubbling inside of me. The memories of the zen lemur, the raccoon... everything we had been through together. How it was all just the beginning. How well he knew me... It was becoming too much. I saw another object that didn't fit into the natural landscape. A basketball. A message had been written in black marker on the side of the ball: We were playing basketball when we kissed, and you agreed to a date so I wouldn't miss It's true. He remembered it all. Next to the basketball, was a broken laptop. The same laptop I ran over in my car on that very first day. A note was taped to the broken screen: I realized too late that I owed you for changing my perspective. The words had escaped my mouth. His had been eloquently written in these beautiful messages and mine were breaths of air. Breathless. He'd planted these messages all across the pasture, with the expectation that I would get here. Eventually. "Where did you get all of these things?" I asked, my mind reeling at how sentimental this gesture was. The emotion was weighing my voice down. I didn't know what to say. No one had ever done this for me. "The basketball and laptop I already had," he answered, walking towards me, "Everything else I got from the store near Alpine last night. Chad was helping me before we got ambushed." I nodded; no further questions. My lips curled into a smile. The shock had melted into happiness. I couldn't be any happier. Luke came towards me, slowly because he was still injured, and when he took me into his arms, I couldn't have felt any safer. "I want you to know how much you mean to me, Millie. How every moment with you has changed me," he said, taking my hand in his, "I never told you why I went to camp this summer. I hit a ceiling in basketball. My game was suffering, and I wasn't a team player." I tried to hide my smile at that. With his ego, he definitely was not. "I've been a basketball player since I was five years old. My father pushed it on me. He made me train every day until I was the best. It took a lot of sacrifice, not only by me but by my entire family. Our weekends revolved around my practice schedule and I learnt how to think only about myself and my future." He took a moment to breathe. He picked up his basketball and turned it in his hands, in disgust, "But sometimes I question it. Am I anything without this sport?" Now he looked at me. He looked at me as if he expected me to understand what on earth he was going through. How could I? "My whole life people have told me I'm useless," I finally said, "No one put me first and no one expects me to do well. But I don't know if I've become anything either. Opposites attract, right?" I laughed quietly. I always seek humor in the sadder moments. "You're far from nothing," he said with such strength in his voice, "When I first met you, Millie, you hid your beauty from the world. You had sadness in your eyes and the only emotion I saw in you was when you were yelling at me." We both smiled at that. The wind rustled the bare branches of the trees around us. But I felt warm. "You were the first person I could stand up to," I said, "I never realized that until now. Somehow, I was always comfortable with you." "I loved that," Luke confessed, "And I loved watching how your confidence grew. You faced the school down, a gang, my friends and even your own. You're strong, Millie." I shook my head, hoping he wouldn't notice the emotion in the tears that clouded my eyes. "If I'm strong, it's only because I've been weak." I stared at the strong, handsome boy in front of me. So many people had walked away from me. So many people had never bothered to get to know me. How is it possible that the one person who did was Luke Dawson? The friend I never asked for, but the one I always needed. "Luke," I gasped, suddenly realizing where we were. "I know where you're taking me now! I recognize the road." His arms were wrapped around my waist and my hands were on his chest. He smiled, his stunning smile that revealed perfect white teeth, and leaned his head down over my mouth. He didn't stifle my words, but he let his lips hover over mine, enjoying the moment. "Yes, you do, Minnie," he whispered, "It's to the place we met. I'm taking you back to the beginning." "No," I smiled mischievously, "The beginning started with a raccoon." ** T h e E n d **