Myth and I walked until we reached the log where we had hidden our gear. Luckily, our belongings were still there; I had been worried that either those bandits or that bear had stolen our stuff.
“Can we rest for a while, Myth?” I said, sitting on the log. “It’s been a busy morning.”
“Okay, Izzy,” said Myth as she sat beside me. She was still holding her stuffed kitty cat, by the way. “I doubt those fools will search for us once they make it out of that cave. And if they do, well, they’re so lazy that they’ll probably head for the road, not the woods. So yeah, I think we’re safe here.”
I slapped her arm playfully. “You fuss too much.”
“Yeah,” said Myth, “and you don’t fuss enough.”
“That’s true,” I admitted. “But together, we fuss just the right amount.”
Just then, Barnaby scurried past us.
“Barnaby!” Myth called out.
The rat skidded to a stop and looked at us.
“Good luck,” Myth said to him. “And pay your dear, old mum a visit.”
I swear that Barnaby saluted—yes, saluted—her. Then he raced off and we never saw him again.
Myth glanced at the stuffed kitty cat. Her eyes sparkled. And a smile cropped up on her face.
Petting the stuffed kitty cat, I said, “Tell me about the kitty cat you had when you were a girl. It obviously meant a lot to you.”
“His name was Sir Wumsey,” said Myth.
I burst into a fit of giggling. I just could not help myself—that name was too adorable.
“Yeah,” said Myth. “It was a silly name. But Sir Wumsey was special. Whenever I felt scared or lonely, I’d hold him tight and everything would be okay—like he was protecting me.”
Myth sighed. “Sir Wumsey was one amazing stuffed kitty.”
“What happened to him?” I asked her.
“A few years ago,” said Myth, “a girl named Gwydolwyn lived in the Elvenhome back in Dawn. Her parents had died in an accident, so she was being sent to live with a relative in the Holding Where. Gwydolwyn was just eight-years old, and she was so upset—her world had fallen apart.”
Myth paused and caressed the kitty cat’s face. “I gave Sir Wumsey to her; she needed him more than I did. And I told Gwydolwyn that if she hugged him whenever she felt afraid, he would protect her.”
Myth continued to caress the kitty cat. “I hope Sir Wumsey kept Gwydolwyn safe.”
…And that’s when I decided that just being friends with Myth would not be enough for me any longer.
Do you remember our mud fight, Buster—when I had realized that my feelings for Myth were more than a girlhood infatuation? Ever since then, I had admired Myth from afar—wishing, but not expecting, that we could be more than just friends.
But the way Myth had helped that poor girl made it impossible for me merely to wish. Myth was the sweetest woman I had ever met—I had to tell her that I wanted her to be my girlfriend. And I needed Myth to tell me whether she felt the same about me. I was certain that Myth could not possibly like me like that. But I needed to hear her say it—no more racking my brain, asking “Does she?” or “Doesn’t she?”
Yes, Buster, at last I was ready to risk everything—even our friendship—for a chance at true happiness…
Myth held the kitty cat up to her face and gazed into its button eyes. “In honor of the great Sir Wumsey, I name you Wumsey the Second.”
“I guess Mythie has a playmate now,” said Myth, smiling as she set Wumsey the Second on the log beside her. She looked at me and her smile vanished. “Izzy, are you okay? It looks like something is bothering you.”
“Myth,” I said quietly, staring at her arm, “can we talk?”
“Sure,” said Myth, shifting her body so that she faced me. “What’s on your mind?”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. My poor tummy was churning so much that I was certain it was trying to run away. And my hands were so clammy. Oh! I was such a mess. I just knew I was going to make a fool of myself. But I needed to tell Myth how I felt.
“W-well,” I said, my voice quavering. “Y-you’ve been a wonderful friend—a-always so kind to me. Travelling with you has been a-absolutely amazing. T-there’s no one I would rather spend time with than you. A-and I find myself w-wondering more and more if may-maybe we could be m-more than just friends.”
I glanced at Myth’s face—she was smiling. Seeing her smile destroyed what little confidence I had. Myth will never like me like that, I told myself. She is spectacular. And I’m just Izzy.
My head drooped. I stared at my lap, twiddling my thumbs. “Oh, don’t pay attention to me,” I muttered. “I’m being silly.”
Myth placed her hand beneath my chin. Gently, she coaxed my head upwards until we were gazing into one another’s eyes. Then she lowered her hand and…
And I just knew what was going to happen next. It’s not something I can put into words, Buster. I cannot explain how I knew—I just did. When you meet someone special, you’ll find yourself in a similar situation and you’ll just know…
I leaned my head towards Myth. And she leaned her head towards me. I closed my eyes. And our lips touched…
I remember everything about our first kiss: the small chip in Myth’s lower lip, her tongue brushing against mine, how her mouth tasted…
Our lips parted. I opened my eyes.
Myth smiled at me, her cheeks were bright red. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” she said softly.
Myth wanted to kiss me! I shouted in my head. Now that makes no sense. Why would she want to kiss me—silly, old Izzy? This will be hard for you to believe, Buster, but I was tongue-tied.
“O-o-oh,” I stuttered.
Myth leaned over and kissed me again—just a short kiss, as if to confirm that the first kiss had actually occurred.
Chuckling, Myth smiled again. “I’d like us to be more than just friends, Izzy. But only if you’re sure that that’s what you want.”
I am quite certain that my heart cracked one of my ribs right then—it was beating so excitedly within my chest. “Yes,” I said, smiling happily. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
We kissed again—a quick, happy kiss.
“But just so you know,” I said, “I’m not an easy woman to please.”
“Oh, really?” replied Myth.
“Nuh-uh,” I said, shaking my head. “I require lots of kisses. And you absolutely have to hold hands with me. Oh, and cuddling—that’s very important.”
“That’s a lot of stipulations for being your girlfriend,” said Myth.
I shrugged. “That’s just me being Izzy.”
“In that case,” said Myth, “I guess I’m going to have to everything I can to keep you happy.”
Myth leaned over and kissed the tip of my nose, causing me to giggle happily.