Miss Me Not

His touch was intimate and confusing. The contact was enticing, and I yearned to rest my cheek against his knuckles at the same time that I fought the urge to shake it off, knowing the pain a man's touch could cause. My breath whistled out in shallow gasps. I struggled to remind myself that his touch was different. His eyes never strayed from mine.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered softly, proving his point by running his hand down the length of my neck, over my narrow shoulder and down my arm in a soft caress, until eventually, he gently gripped my hand in his. "Trust me, okay?"

I nodded, unable to find the words. I wanted to trust him. I hated the demons that made me frightened by the touch of someone I was slowly beginning to feel something for.

I was still pondering my mixed up feelings when we made it to the other park.

"You're rocking those glasses," Dean teased as we sat down for Shrek's 4D Adventure.

"Right, nothing offsets these classy green spectacles like pale, pasty, washed-out skin," I said, poking fun at myself. >All my energy from before drifted away and I slowly made it to my room, feeling dejected and depressed. I eyed my dresser where Jack was stored. I could numb everything again. Forget about her rejection and the hurt I felt. I took a step toward my dresser when I heard my cell phone ding again.

Sinking down on my bed, I scooped up my phone from my table and saw I had missed several texts from Dean. I scrolled through them until I got to the first one.

Hey do you have plans today? D

Are you there? D

I have an idea for today. You game? D

If I don't hear from you in the next few minutes I'm going to assume you're in. D

Okay time's up. I'll be at your house in thirty minutes. Wear comfortable shoes. D

What a goof. My depression magically lifted as I read through his messages. The idea of getting out of the house for the day seemed ideal.

K. I texted. I still sucked at the whole texting thing.

Sweet. I was afraid I'd show up and you'd be snoozing. D

Nope. I'm up. I answered, tossing my phone on my comforter so I could finish getting ready.

My phone dinged again as I was pulling on socks. Glancing down, I was confused over his message.

;) D

;)? I texted back, figuring it was a mistake.

Boy you're texting illiterate. It's a winky face. D

Flipping my phone to the side, I tried to make out his "winky" face.

Where's the nose? I texted.

Got eaten by shark attack. D

Nice. This looks more like a winky face to me ;o) I pointed out.

Well, you'll have to let the honchos over at Facebook know. They have a whole line of smiley emoticons missing their noses. D

That's despicable. And they call themselves a cutting-edge company. I texted, smiling. I could see myself getting used to the whole texting thing.

Funny. I'll be there in five minutes. D

K. I texted before stowing my phone in the oversized front pocket of my hoodie.

I was waiting on the front steps of our porch when he pulled into our driveway a few minutes later.

"Good, I was going to tell you to wear a jacket," he said, taking in my hoodie. "We'll be outside the majority of the day."