I awoke with anticipation of what today would bring. I broke out my list of what I want to do with Brynn on our first date.

I looked at my phone and no message.

I came down the stairs. Said good morning to my parents. Ate my breakfast, it was eggs, bacon, toast, and juice.

I looked at my phone and no message.

I showered. I dressed. I sat on my bed and look at my phone and ...

no message.

I then have an epiphany. I am the girl in this relationship. Brynn holds all the cards. She is the one who's setting the pace and keeping me on brink of distraction. I wonder if I have ever done this to a girl, and sadly I'm sure I have. I make up my mind to never to keep another girl waiting... then I think of Brynn and I wonder if it's an empty promise I just made, as some part of me has already decided there will be no other girls.

WOW! Big morning.

*ding*

I look at my phone. Thank God. She's finally decided to text me.

Hey there!

I purposely wait 5 minutes before answering so I don't look too eager...

Yeah, a total girl.

F - Hey!

B - Oh, there you are, wondered if you may have made other plans on me?

F- Nope!

B- You're so glib with your responses.

I laugh, before typing back.

F- Yep.

B- Can you be ready in about 20 minutes?

F- You driving?

B- Wow! More than one word...and yes! Problem?

F- No perfect. Can't drive due to my foot. I'll be ready and waiting.

B- Sounds good. See you then.

F- See you then.

I take another look at my appearance and believe myself acceptable. The excitement courses through me. I come down the stairs and wonder how I will occupy my time until she gets here.

"Finn, you look like you're about to vibrate through the room. What's up?" my mom asks.

"Brynn is picking me up in about 15 minutes," I say taking a seat at the kitchen table. Mom is working on some sort of paperwork. Looks like there is never a day off for the principal.

"Ah," she says like that explains everything. "What are doing today?"

"Don't know, but got my list." I pat my back pocket.

She smiles at me.

"What time do you expect to be back?"

"Again, got no idea. Brynn is driving, curfew a deal?"

She nods. "Yes, but keep in mind it's a school night."

"I got you."

We fall into a comfortable silence except for the tap of my leg bouncing up and down on the hardwood floor. Finally, the doorbell rings. I jump up and hobble as quickly as my foot will take me to answer the door.

Why am I so nervous?

I pause. Take a deep breath and open the door.

She's smiling up at me and she looks adorable. The streaks in her hair are red and match her cardigan sweater that she's wearing over her white t-shirt that has an image I can't quite figure out, as only part of it is visible and peaking past her buttons.

"Up here buddy," she says, her lips curved into a perfect smirk.

I turn the same color as her sweater realizing I've been caught staring at her chest. Oh, hell. "I was wondering what was on your shirt?" I explain lamely.

"Uh-huh" she utters in a tone of complete disbelief. "Ready to get a move on?"

Knowing when it's best to retreat on a subject I reply, 'Yep,' and step out of the door shutting it behind me.

Once in her car, she looks over at me briefly before asking, "So, where do you want to go?"

"Ah. Well," I pull the list from my pocket.

"A list? You have a list?" she asks in utter amazement.

"What? I like to be prepared. What's wrong with a list?"

She starts the car and begins driving in some random direction.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong with a list. Can I see it?"

I suddenly feel nervous again. What if she doesn't like any of my ideas? Stupid list...why did I make a list?

She takes it from my hand. I see her making faces, and nodding. She seems to like what she sees so I guess she...

She...

She just threw my list out the window. Wait, what?

"Brynn?!"

"You had some good ideas on there but as this is our second date I figure it's my turn to choose and I say we make our plans with this." She pulls her keychain with the Eight Ball out of her pocket.

I completely cave, and indulge her whim. "Okay."

"Really?"

"Well, you did just throw my list out the window so choice wise..." I shrug. "So, yeah, let's go for it."

I see the excited look on her face and it suddenly becomes contagious. She hands me the little ball.

"So what do we ask first?"

"Umm... how about you give me one of your ideas and I give you one of mine and we'll see where it goes?"

"Okay, do we go to the art museum today?" I shake the ball and it responds with "Sources say no."

I laugh. "All right your turn."

"Should we go to the playground?"

"Playground? Really?"

She gives me a face that says, 'Why aren't I shaking the ball' so I do and the answer is "Outlook good."

She wiggles in her seat. "Yes! Playground it is!"

"Really, Brynn? Don't you think we're a little old for a playground?"

"No."

She takes me to this playground, which is deserted. Not because it's Sunday but because the school had closed about a year ago. It was odd seeing all those play things just sitting there idle. You could almost feel the potential energy waiting there, begging for release.

We get out and she pulls out, from the trunk of the car, a basketball. I look back at the playground and that's when I first notice the court. It's a little out of date, there are no nets but the backboards are intact.

Only one problem...

"Brynn, my foot. Remember?"

"Scared to be beaten by a girl?"

I chuckle. "Yeah, like that could happen but I can't run around on this foot."

"Who says we need to run around. You know how to play HORSE right? You just have to stand and shoot."

Playing ball one on one with Brynn... it only takes a second to make up my mind.

"You're on."

"So who goes first?" Brynn asks.

"Ladies always go first," I say with a gallant wave of my arm.

She gives me a wicked smile. She finds a nice safe spot and makes a basket. I mimic her moves. We go again.

I pick something I think she can make and she makes it again. I'm impressed.

"One hand," she says and shoots. I'm shocked as she makes the shot. I stand in her spot and again make her move.

Time to make this more challenging. I would love to do a jump shot right now but I have to refrain. I move to the 3-point line and make the shot.

She comes to stand where I was and she shoots. It circles the rim but doesn't fall in.

"H" I say grinning at her.

"Don't get cocky," she says, retrieves the ball and goes out of bounds. Her look is intense. She takes her time and lines up the shot. Again, I'm amazed, she made it. I'm starting to think she ain't no rookie.

I stand where she was. It was a very weird angle and as we aren't allowed to shoot out of bounds I'm not practiced at shooting from here. I take my time I shoot the ball but it bounces off the backboard and goes sailing in a different direction.

"I got it," she yells and goes running after the ball.

"H" The letter comes out in a rush as she is a little out of breath from running to retrieve the ball.

I feel the adrenaline rush of a real competition. Something I've missed this past week.

We go back and forth coming up with more challenging shots. I am more than impressed with Brynn's skill level. If I hadn't shook the Eight Ball myself I would have thought I was being played.

It was now HOR to HORS and I was winning but not by much. She goes all out and takes a wild shot shooting the ball backwards over her head. We both stare in shock and awe as the ball toilet bowls around the rim and I'll be damned, falls in.

She leaps into the air. "YES!!! Take that Nash the Dash!" she says pointing her fingers at me like triggers pretending she's shooting me down.

She gave me quite the challenge. I give it a go but it doesn't work. We are now all tied up. She gets to choose the final shot.

She picks a spot between the 3-point line and the basket. Then I watch as she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, and shoots the ball.

She didn't open them until the ball left her fingers and then it was more of a peek through one eye. We both stood in stunned silence as once again she made it in. This time she was even too stunned to gloat.

"Okay," I say after she retrieves the ball for me. I find the spot. I eye up the basket. I've shot from this position a million times. I just need to close my eyes and visualize. I can do this.

My arms raise to make the shot and then I feel, just as I'm about to release the ball tickling fingers going up my side. The ball releases and goes wild. I hear her giggle and open my eyes to see her standing before me.

"Cheater!" I accuse.

"Winner!" she corrects me, and goes skipping after the ball.

"That so doesn't count! You interfered with the shot!" I yell after her.

"Where does it say in the rules of HORSE you are not allowed to tickle?"

I laugh. "I'm pretty sure it's listed in the fine print."

"Sorry, didn't get the memo."

"So, I get a do over?" I ask.

"Oh, heck no. Now it's time for the swings!"

"Brynn? Really? You cheated."

"Only to teach you a very valuable lesson."

"Uh-huh." I can't wait to hear this one. "And what might that be?"

"Simple, Nash the Dash. That in life, winning isn't everything."

"Yeah, yeah," I say, blowing her off. "I've heard this before. Its how you play the game, and I play by the rules."

"And therein lies your problem."

"Problem?"

"Okay, maybe not problem. Think of it as a helpful suggestion."

Once again I'm lost. "What are you talking about?"

We sit on the swings. I stare at her as she pushes off and is now going back and forth and back and forth.

"You want the road less traveled, right?" she says, as she swings past me.

"Yes," I say wondering where she is going with this.

"Then you need to learn life is not black and white, lists and priorities. Sometimes, it's just about enjoying a moment. As I did, back there when I tickled you and you missed the shot."

"Make a memory. That's all we got in this life. No one is going to care if you got straight A's or had a perfect attendance record. The risk takers, Finn, make history. Those that color outside the lines and make moments happen. Like you did when you made that final basket a week ago."

It was beginning to scare me that I was starting to understand her. Get her way of thinking. To comprehend that Brynnesque way of looking at life.

I reach out and grab hold of her swing. It causes her to squeal as it goes out of control for a moment. I stand and pull her swing over to me. She's hanging in the air.

"What are you doing?" she inquires a little breathy.

"Making a memory," I tell her right before claiming her lips.