Sweet Dandelion

by Micalea Smeltzer

Now I’m the girl who survived a school shooting. Who walks with a limp. Who barely speaks.

I’m trying. I have to try. If it takes one day at a time to get better, I have to start somewhere. A simple conversation, a potential ally, I can do this.

“I have to carve out a sketch of the new version of me that fits in this world now that the old me is gone.”

Sitting in this hole in the wall shop, eating pizza with my brother, is one of the simplest things in the world but I know this memory will stay with me forever, because in the darkest time of my life this is a bright spot.

“Ansel is … Ansel. He’s harmless.” And a drug dealer, but Sage doesn’t need to know that.

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, loosening his grip on the wheel. “You seem like someone I’m meant to know.”

“It’s nice to be lost in another world for a little while. But we can’t forget reality forever.”

“I’m not mad about the kiss. I’m not even mad at you. But I am livid,” his teeth gnash together, his hands fisted at his side, “at myself for liking it and wanting nothing more than to take you in my arms and kiss you again.”

“Everyone tells you to dream big, but then society does everything it can to keep you grounded.”

“Because I’m not about to fuck you like some horny teenage boy that can’t control himself. You mean more to me than that.”

I’m a selfish bastard, Dandelion Meadows, and I want every fucking part of you.”

Lachlan and I are inevitable.

“I want to know how you sound, how you feel, I want to know what brings you the most pleasure. That’s not what a good guy thinks about his student.”

“If you dream small you’ll never even touch the ceiling.” I give him a soft smile. “But if you dream big you might be lucky enough to touch the sky.”

“You’re loving me in the light.” He looks around, the sun glowing around us, strangers passing by and grins, his lips pulling up more on one corner. “Well, would you look at that.”

As Lachlan gazes down at me like he’s holding his entire world between his hands, I don’t think I have anything to worry about.

I choose this life. I choose him. I choose us. And that’s a pinky promise.

The second was, I wanted him to wear a kilt. He thought I was kidding. I wasn’t.