A story about a young (early teens) girl and boy who live in the country... Blah.
It was summer. Tuesday, I think. But that doesn't matter. What really matters is the story.
That girl, Mariah was her name, didn't like to be called a child. She was fourteen, for Christ's sake, and she was a young woman. She was going to grow up; go to Harvard, maybe; and join the CIA. That was her plan. And she started this plan by walking barefoot.
She liked to walk barefoot on the gravel. It soothed her, she supposed. Anyway, back to the story.
Mariah was doing what she did, walking to and from her house every day in the summer. She walked alongside her boyfriend, the light of her life (at the time being, anyway), Chad. He was a year older, in the grade above. It made her feel dangerous. Her parents didn't like him. She told herself she was in love. She saw sparks fly when they kissed. He pressed to go farther, and she said "Not yet," just to see if he'd stay. He always did, of course. He told himself he loved her, too. Even if she wouldn't put out.
(A/N: Eww. This came out a lot better in my head. Sheesh, maybe it's because I planned it out as a fanfic. Oh well. I might not add another chapter.)