Mary rested her head on her hands and gazed out the car window, thinking about Trey, and trying to ignore her mother's scolding. Like sun piercing through a fog, her mother's voice came through.
"Mary Louise Taylor, I simply don't know what to do with you! What were you thinking, running away like that? And staying with that awful boy!" Her mother shuddered with the memory, then glanced over at Mary. "MARY!!!! Are you even listening to me?"
Mary rolled her eyes and said, "Trey is not awful, and he was nicer to me than you are!" Her mother ground her teeth, but Mary wasn't listening. Her mind drifted to Trey and the first time they had met. When she had run away. . .
She was stuck in thorns with her pack of supplies on the ground - hey, no one had told her that running away was hard - when he had showed up. "Need some help, girl?" he asked kindly, taking in everything about her. She blushed, then nodded. "Man, he was hot!!" she thought. He walked over, helped her out, and said seriously, "You're running away."
She looked up surprised, "Is it that obvious?"
He rolled his eyes, "Not many girls carrying a heavy Army bag come into my forest. Come on!"
She blushed again and whispered, "Can I stay?"
"In the thorns, no; but with me, yes. Follow me."
As Mary struggled to keep up with him, she looked him over, surprised by her own interest. Normally, she didn't care about boys, even if she was 15, but he was different. He was very tall and tan. He was muscular, looking like a panther. . . like Rhett Butler in Gone With the Wind. . . well, only the panther-like part. His beach-boy haircut was streaked blond and framed a face that looked almost angelic in its beauty. He walked through the forest silently and quickly, full of power. Mary, however, crashed through the forest, half running so that she wouldn't lose him. She asked him, "Who are you? What are you doing here? And why do you call it your forest?"
He stopped, turned around, and waited for her to catch up. "My name is Trey; I live here alone-" he struck a lordly pose "-as king of this forest."
Mary snorted, "What - like Tarzan."
Trey rolled his eyes. "No, not like Tarzan. What about you? What's your name?"
"I'm Mary, Mary Taylor"
He smiled, "Well, Mary Taylor. Welcome to my forest." He bowed deeply.
Mary looked at him. "Why do you live here alone? Why do you keep calling this place your forest?"
He looked seriously at her, "If I tell you will you tell me why you ran away?"
She hesitated then said, "Yes. . . but you first!"
