Love is a Battlefield

Love comes to those who are ready to catch it; the rest need to learn how to make better traps.

I crouched in the middle of the field, watching. Waiting. Dandelions tickled my legs, scratching the skin just above my bobby socks and poking into my bare knees. I swallowed a fit of giggles and resisted the urge to brush them away. I couldn’t risk alerting the target to my presence. It had taken too long to get this close, and the opportunity might never come again.

His head jerked. He lifted his nose into the wind, as if smelling the danger masked in its spring breeze. His eyes darted around the field, and with a sudden jolt, he spun in my direction.

Alarmed, I flattened myself into the surrounding brush, willing my breath to stop. His gaze skipped over me, and he looked off to the right, slowly backing toward the willow tree behind him. A twitch of triumph pulled at the corner of my lips. Exhaling softly, careful not to draw his attention, I allowed my eyes to slide to the clump of small figures camouflaged in the overgrown grass a few feet away from me. I gave them a barely perceptible nod of my head and smiled at the thumbs-up flashed back at me in response.

Turning back to my prey, I watched as he eased further into the clump of trees bordering the field. He made his way to the farthest tree in the back—the one closest to the fence enclosing the property—and slid into its shadows, almost disappearing from sight.

A wolfish grin slid across my face. Good, I thought with satisfaction. Now there’s nowhere to run.

Slowly, slowly, I pulled away from the brush and began a measured crawl toward the trees. The nearby group of girls detached from the grass and moved in tandem with me, matching my pace as we inched our way toward the grove where our quarry waited. Where victory waited.

Finally.

I bit my tongue to stop the new fit of giggles rippling through me. As we neared the hideout, I made out the humped figure of the boy, sitting in a tight ball at the base of the tree, knees pulled into his chest as if to make himself smaller. The willow dwarfed him even though he was the tallest boy I’d ever seen.

Alex.

He was looking to the right, not noticing our approach from the left as we crossed over the border of his hiding place. A smattering of leaves stuck out from the dusty brown hair that fell in waves around his ears. I tried to see his face, but it was too dark for me to see the splash of light freckles that brushed the bridge of his nose or his crisp, blue eyes that always danced in the sun.

Gotcha.

I slithered over an exposed root and carefully motioned for the team of girls on each side of me to spread out. Seconds passed. Twigs and leaves shifted around me, blending in with the sounds of the overhead branches that clacked against each other in the wind…then silence. With a victorious yodel, I sprang from the ground. My squad leapt into the air with me, and we made a mad dash toward the towering tree. A wail of defeat rose into the air from the its shadowy depths, and a hail of leaves scattered to the ground.

“I’ve got you, Alex!” I sang.

The six girls with me spread out into a tight curve, covering all possible paths of escape as we moved in on the cowering figure hunched against the willow’s trunk. His eyes skipped around the enclosure, shining feverishly, and his body jerked in spastic indecision, not knowing which way to run.

“Grab him!” I commanded.

Four girls rushed forward and pressed his struggling body against the tree trunk, pinning his hands to his side. The other two remained beside me.

Alex glared at each of them, then looked at me. His shoulders straightened, bringing him to his full four-foot-one height. He sneered.

I glided forward, plucking a dandelion from my pocket and gently extending it.

His head thrashed to the side.

I glanced at the two girls to my left, and they moved in—one girl grabbed his head while the other dug her hands into his shoulders to hold him in place. I daintily tucked the dandelion above his ear. Stepping back, I produced a matching dandelion and slid it into my hair.

“Kiss him! Kiss him!” the group of girls chanted, punctuating their rallying cry with a crescendo of giggles.

Alex struggled in vain, his head twitching.

I inhaled. It was time. I tiptoed toward him and swiftly smushed my lips against his, making a loud smacking noise.

He gagged.

“She did it!” the girls trilled. They released him and danced away, laughing.

Alex violently swiped his hand across his mouth.

A clanging bell rang out in the distance. Our heads jerked toward the sound, and smiles dropped from our faces.

Recess was over.

“Awww,” we whined in unison.

With moans and cries of protest, Miss Blevins’s kindergarten class began to file out of the playground and stomp toward the school.

I beamed at Alex. His lips curled, and he rolled his eyes. Picking up his discarded backpack with one hand, he used the other to snatch a loose branch from the ground and hurl it at me. I ducked and dashed away as another came flying at my head. He reached for a third but saw Miss Blevins peering in our direction and instead marched away, grumbling.

I observed my new boyfriend shuffle past the jungle gym and into the school gates.

Love is hard, I mused. I looked down at my scuffed knees, crumpled skirt, and bobby socks streaked with grass stains. And really, really messy.