Page 11 of Pride High 3: Yellow

Omar shook the box, which jingled with the sound of metal striking metal. “It is!” he said. “Shouldn’t you be down on one knee for this? Or do you want me to be?”

Silvia swatted his arm playfully. “Just open it. And be careful.”

He tore at the box flaps but was more cautious when shaking out the contents. A simple fishing lure fell into his palm. “Hey, it’s a spinner!” he said.

“Flip it over,” Silvia suggested. The lure consisted of a multi-pronged hook attached to a flat piece of metal that had words engraved on it. Omar noticed and read them aloud.

“‘You’re a great catch.’” He guffawed before grinning at her. “I freaking love it!”

“Good!” she said, feeling genuine relief, because she had experienced the same pressure to express herself through a gift. “It’s meant to be symbolic. I doubt that’s a good lure, but it is a promise of more fishing dates. If you like the idea.”

“Babe, youknowI love fishing with you. If it was warmer out, we’d be sitting on a boat right now.”

“Not the inflatable raft I bought for your birthday. Come to think of it, that was also supposed to be symbolic, so at least your plethora of balloons was an original idea.”

“First of all,” Omar said with bedroom eyes, “we’re making that raft work, you’ll see. We’ll take it out on Lake Integrity. Secondly… I love you.”

He swept in to kiss her before she had a chance to respond, but she made sure he knew after they were finished. “I love you too,” Silvia said. “Next year we really will keep it simple.”

“Sounds good to me,” Omar said. “An entire year of us being together, I mean. You’re right that all this stuff only gets in the way.” He swiped at a balloon, the ribbon tangling around his arm until he shook it off. “How are you going to get these in your truck?”

“I have no idea,” Silvia replied while eyeing them. “I guess we could tie them to the bumper like we just got hitched.”

“Or we could tie them to other stuff,” Omar said, going to a dresser drawer and digging around inside. He held up a little green army man. “And then let them go.”

“That would be fun,” Silvia said carefully, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “Just one of them maybe?”

“Hell yeah!” Omar was already moving toward the balcony attached to his room. “Aliens have been sighted in the sky,” he said to the little plastic man. “We need you to defend the Earth’s airspace. Do you accept this mission, soldier?” He looked over his shoulder. “Choose a balloon, babe, because he says yes!”

She adored his imagination. They could have simply removed the plain plastic disc that weighted the balloon down and tied the soldier to it, but Omar kept briefing the little figure, inventing details on the spot that made her realize how creative he could be. Not a complete surprise, considering how often he filmed silly sketches, but his improvisation skills were impressive. She joined him in a countdown and saluted the soldier as it slowly floated away across a landscape of suburban rooftops.

“That was fun!” she said.

“Yeah, it really was,” Omar replied.

They looked at each other suddenly.

“One more?” Silvia asked.

“Yes!” Her boyfriend replied, clenching a fist in excitement. “Let’s see what else we’ve got!”

One by one, they tied various things to the balloons and set them free: A key so old that Omar no longer remembered what it went to. Slices of bread so birds would get an in-the-air treat. Or her favorite, a Milli Vanilli cassette tape that a clueless relative had given Omar as a gift. They removed it from the case and tied two balloons to it, one through each spool hole, which was just enough lift to make it skid down the street before an updraft sent it soaring.

“Last one,” Omar said, reappearing on the balcony with the balloon in tow. It was red and heart shaped.

“Can I keep it?” Silvia said.

“Of course, it’s your gift! I’m just glad we managed to have a good time with the others.”

They really had. Omar had kept her laughing as they released each balloon. When they returned inside to his room, the roses were much easier to appreciate. She was admiring them again when she noticed him watching her with a lopsided smile.

“I’m so lucky,” he said.

He certainly knew how to make a girl feel loved. And he looked so damn handsome, with his dark hair wild and windblown from their time out on the balcony.

“How much longer until that dinner reservation?” she asked.

“We’ll have to leave in about an hour.”