I had fantasies of pearly white gates opening and angels singing when I finally arrived at the front of the line. However, the image before me was far from what I envisioned. The metal barricades still needed to be assembled. It looks like a child threw it together while the remaining fence pieces were thrown to the side.

With my ticket in hand, I scan the entrance for someone to show it to.

A woman must have seen my death grip on the flimsy piece of paper because she pointed to my hand and said, "They aren't even checking for tickets anymore."

She stands before me in a killer leather fringe bra with flowers painted on her midriff. I shift awkwardly in my plain navy blue t-shirt, utterly underdressed for the occasion.

I wish I had the confidence to wear something like that.

Her pixie haircut complements her razor-sharp cheekbones, and her emerald eyes are as green as the open field surrounding us. She glances up at my flower crown, and a smile pulls at her lips. She points to it and says, "That's groovy. Did you make it?"

"I didn't." My hand goes up and brushes against the smooth petals. "Someone gave it to me on the walkover."

Remembering what my crown maker said, I wrap my fingers around the headpiece and place it on her head. "Spread peace."

"Hey, Barbara!" A shirtless guy comes over and puts his arm around her shoulder. "We found a great spot."

Before walking off, Barbara thanked me for the crown and promised to pay it forward to the next deserving soul. The thought of the floral wreath getting passed around sends happiness to my heart.

Bobby comes to stand beside me. His palm rests on my lower back. His touch hypnotizes me, and my muscles relax as I lean into his tall form. "I can't believe you gave away the crown."

"It's just flowers," I say with a shrug. "Plus, she looked good in it."

"You looked better in it."

His words cause butterflies to erupt in my stomach. "There you go with those sweet words again."

A warm breath hits the outer shell of my ear as Bobby whispers, "We'll talk later, I promise."

Since my birthday, Bobby has dropped hints of his feelings but has yet to say them out loud. I don't think I'm wrong, but a small part still fears I'm just a girl with an unreciprocated crush. The thought of being rejected causes the fluttering in my stomach to halt.

The green, rolling hills of the dairy farm are captivating and pull me from my unpleasant thoughts. The land goes on for acres, and my jaw drops to the ground as the swarm of people walk freely around the open field.

Blankets lay across the grass, huddled as close to the stage as possible. Attendees sit in the warm sun and engage in friendly conversations. Every person I look at has their lips pulling upwards in infectious, loving ways. The peaceful atmosphere is precisely what the world needs. The joy flowing between everyone has my chest ready to burst at its beauty.

Multiple drum circles spread across the grounds. Men and women move their bodies to the rhythm of the drum with contagious smiles plastering their glowing faces. 

I want to dance.

The steady sound of the drums calls to me, and I join the celebration. The music flows through my ears and straight to my soul. My hips begin to sway, and my fingers tap against the outer part of my thigh as I let the beat take control.

Electric energy surrounds me. As if lightning will burst from my fingertips, I become enflamed with positive vibrations.

My sister nudges my arm and pulls me from my trance. She tries to say something, but the drums overpower her. She nods toward our friends, and I follow them once again with a bounce in my step.

Mike leads the way up the side of a hill on the outer part of the grounds and closer to the woods. "I know it's farther away from the stage, but if we set up camp over here, we won't be blocking anyone's view with our tents."

Elaine bats her long lashes and twirls the end of her hair in her fingers. "Brilliant idea, Mike. We can still see the stage perfectly, and it's nice that we have our own little spot."

My sister isn't even trying to hide her attraction to Mike. She was foaming at the mouth when she first laid eyes on him.

Mike playfully pinches the exposed skin where her shirt is shy of meeting her pants. The corner of his pink lips tugs into a smirk. "My thoughts exactly, Lainey."

So he has a pet name for her already. That's cute.

Elaine lets out a cringe-worthy, high pitch giggle that has me wincing. I'm not the only one because Rose says, "That's enough, you two." She then points her finger between Bobby and me. "It's bad enough I have to watch these two make googly eyes at each other, don't make me be the fifth wheel."

I shift from side to side as I grab the necklace Bobby gave me for my birthday. If I weren't so desperate to hear the bands play over the next few days, this would be the moment I pray for the ground to swallow me whole.

Bobby stands behind me and places his hands on my hips.

How is it that his touch had me hypnotized a few minutes ago, but now it's charring my skin?

"Don't be like that, Roseline." Bobby then fans his fingers across my waist, pulling me in closer to his rock-hard chest. I wince, wondering if I want to find out where this conversation is going.

"First of all," Rose starts with a raised pointer finger. She throws her sleeping bag on the ground and pulls her bag off her back. "Don't call me that. Secondly, just because you finally found your balls doesn't mean I'm used to your public displays of affection."

Bobby leans down and kisses my cheek. The whole world stops spinning, and my lungs no longer function. "Well, get used to it. I don't plan on stopping anytime soon."

Did he just admit he has feelings for me?

Every fiber in my body hardens, and my eyebrows almost reach my hairline with how wide they are.

I thought I was ready to hear it. I really did. The signs were all there, and I can acknowledge I feel the same way. However, the fantasy I have built in my head is now a reality, and I am unable to wrap my head around it.

Rose rushes over to me and pushes her brother away. "Leave this poor girl alone. She looks like she's about to vomit. Have you even told her, or are you just a barbarian stating his claim?"

My loose-fitted shirt feels like it is clinging to my body, constricting my ability to breathe.

I need to get out of here.

Thoughts and questions swirl in my head, ones I need answers to, but I'm unable to produce a coherent sentence.

The only thing I can say is, "Bye."

"Shit," Bobby says as I rush down the grassy hill.

I'm in an open field in the beautiful Catskill Mountains. Fresh air surrounds me, but my chest feels like a stone is pressing against it. Let's not forget my stupid sandals. My feet are screaming for me to stop, but I can't.

Why am I even feeling like this? I used to have the biggest crush on Bobby. Shouldn't I be happy?

We may have only gotten here, but the grounds have become more crowded in that short time. As I weave through them, I give a quick "excuse me" and "Thank you" to dozens of people.

I don't know where I'm going, I have no plan, and I'm positive I look like I am on a bad trip with the panic etched on my face.

My sandal gives a final ferocious rub, and the top layer of skin pulls from my body, and pain radiates up my ankle.

I limp to an open area and sit down to look at the damage. A crowd circles me, concern pouring from their lips.

"Are you okay?"

"Do you need help?"

"Woah, Dude. Would you like some pot to help the pain?" A guy in a tie-dye shirt asks, holding out a joint.

The mention of weed caught my attention.

Please give me the weed. I need to relax.

Right as I'm about to wrap my fingers around the groovy doobie, I hear Bobby's deep voice. "Winnie, are you okay?"

My arm stops mid-air, and I shrug. "I'll live."

I decided against the weed, I don't know the guy, and it doesn't seem wise to take drugs from a stranger. I quickly say, "No, thank you," and try to stand up.

At least my brain is somewhat functioning.

I attempt to make my way back to our group but hiss as the pain spreads again. Bobby moves swiftly by my side and grabs my underarm to assist me. I look like a baby taking its first steps— Slow, unsteady, and about to tip over.

Bobby stops walking and goes to bend down but pauses. "Can I carry you?"

How is it possible to have two conflicting feelings? My ambivalence tugs my body in two separate directions. Dread and desire battle violently against each other as I bite down on my lip to run through my options.

Get it together, Gwen. This is Bobby-Freaking-Walker. You have known him your whole life.

The lump in my throat makes speaking hard, but I fight to get the words out. Nodding my head, I say, "Please, but can we go somewhere private? We need to talk."