Afraid.

Two hours on the swings, and that's all I've come up with. Just one single, lonely word. Afraid.

That's why I never told Jonah all the things I felt about him. That's why every time I looked into those beautiful eyes and saw that soft, warm smile, I choked. I was afraid.

I wasn't afraid of him. Not exactly. On every list of Jonah's qualities, good and bad, "loyal friend" must be at the top. I knew he wouldn't hurt me.

At least, not intentionally. For all my life though, I've known one thing: I'm not like everyone else. Until a few years ago I didn't know exactly why that was, but now I do. Boys like girls. That was the simple truth for most of my life, and I didn't know it was even possible to live differently. Then I met Jonah Beck, and everything changed. My heart beat faster when I was around him. I talked to him about the things I liked because I wanted him to like them, too. I went to his sporting events even though I wasn't at all interested in them just to spend time with him. And maybe, just maybe, he would want to spend time with me, too. That's where the fear comes in. If he ever knew, if I ever told him, I'm afraid he wouldn't want to spend time with me anymore. I'm not afraid of what he might do; I'm afraid of what he might never do again.

That is the hardest realization I've come to about this. I shut people out of this important part of my life because I'm afraid of being shut out. I feel so alone because I'm afraid of being alone.

So I come here, and I swing. And I swing, and I swing.

"That's a nice song," someone says behind me. I didn't even realize I was singing. "Chocolate chocolate chip muffin, right?"

It's TJ, the basketball star that helped me get a chocolate chocolate chip muffin from the cafeteria. "Scary basketball guy," I say.

He's tall, with blond hair that sweeps up and to the left at the top. His blue eyes pierce your soul, and his jawline is sharp enough to cut an apple.

"Actually, TJ." Something's not right with him. He has the same look on his face that I did when I got here.

"I know," I say quietly. "Cyrus."

"So," he says, "do you come here often?" He walks to the swing next to me.

"Only when I'm feeling bad about myself," I tell him. "So, fairly often."

"Does it help?" Something is definitely wrong.

"Helps me," I shrug. "Go on, you look like you need it."

He climbs in the swing, and starts going back and forth. "Wow, this does kind of make me feel better," he giggles.

"You're the captain of the basketball team, what do you have to feel better about?"

"You don't know me," he says pensively. "I got stuff."

I'm not sure what to think about that, but it's a question for another swing session. "Bet'cha I got more stuff."

"Yeah? Bet'cha I can swing higher," he says.

"I'm afraid to swing high," I admit to him. "That's part of my stuff."

He springs up out of the swing and walks over to me, making me tense up nervously. Suddenly his firm, warm hands are on my back, pushing my whole body forwards on the swing. I go quickly back and forth, higher, higher. My legs swing freely, and I twist from side to side in my seat. I keep climbing with every pass until for a second - just one wonderful moment - I'm flying.

"Underdog!" TJ shouts, and runs underneath me. I can just make out a blur of blond hair making its way out from under me as I return to the earth, heart racing. "That was exhilarating!"

"You want another?"

Everything inside of me feels right about this, but I can't. "No thank you," I reply.

"Too bad," he says, and I'm flying again. Something about this moment make me feel like we're the only two people in the world. Something about this moment makes me feel purely alive.

I could live in this moment forever. And I would, if it weren't for...

"Cyrus? Are you ok?" Buffy starts running toward us, and TJ stops abruptly.

"I've gotta go," he says. "But thanks for reminding me about swinging. That helped."

"What's going on?" Buffy has finally gotten to us. "TJ? Hey Cyrus, could you give us the park?"

"Sure," I say, turning to TJ. "You know where to find me. And so do you," I tell Buffy.

What a wonderfully weird day.

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