Opposites Attract

Okay, people always say that 'opposites attract'. Now, I didn't believe that for the first decade of my life, but when I met Ricky Johnson, I started believing it. I've always been the studious and serious type of girl, like the ones who listen to everything a teacher or peer says just in case I need to use it later. Ricky prefers to 'stay in the zone' or just be plain reckless. I swear, one of these days, he is going to get himself hurt. For example...

One day, we were at the park by my house. It was an older park; one that I played at as a young kid, but a park nonetheless. Walking around, I remembered all the times I would swing on the monkey bars or go down the slide. I would go the highest I could on the swings and pretend to touch the sky. On the days when it was too hot, I would sit in the shade of the old willow tree and read, sipping Diet Coke while I was reading.

As we walked, I sat down on a old, beech wood bench. I leaned back and looked up at the sky, watching the clouds roll by. I was silent for a majority of the time, just letting Ricky talk and talk. He could never shut up, if I'm being quite honest. But I didn't mind; he was my boyfriend, after all.

He looked over at me and asked me to dare him to do something crazy, but I refused.

"If I dared you to do something crazy, what would the crazy be. Like, my definition of crazy or your definition of crazy?" I asked him, looking over at his goofy smile. He had his sunglasses on the top of his head and smirked down at me, chuckling to himself.

"Rylie, I think I would prefer my definition of crazy. Not to be rude or anything, but your definition of crazy would be me walking slowly around the park while reading. Not exactly exciting. Give me somethin' that only I would do," he replied, his bright teal eyes shimmering in excitement.

I think long and hard to myself, wondering what task to give him. I snap when I get an idea, and I laugh a bit to myself.

"Okay. I want you to climb to the top of the jungle gym. Like, sitting on the top of it."

"Ah, that's too easy. Give me something harder."

"Harder? Hmm..." I concentrate and look around the park, wondering what to make him do. If climbing the jungle gym was too easy, then what would be hard? When I get an idea, I look over at him, a small smirk playing on my face.

"I want you to get on one of the old swings, swing as high as you can, and then jump off. And I want you to do a flip, too."

"Girl, when you get ideas, you get ideas," he replied, chuckling and standing up. He hopped up from the bench and walked over to the swing set, and sat down, starting to swing.

"If you get hurt, you can't sue me!" I yell, trying to be joking and completely serious. I bring out a book and begin reading it, looking up at him every so often.

"Yeah, yeah. I know," he said, his sarcastic tone suggesting otherwise.

~~~

I was on the swing set after my girlfriend, Riley, dared me to do the most stupid thing she could think of. I don't believe that she realizes how high my pain tolerance is -or how excited I was that she could come up with dares like this. I got a few feet in the air, swinging like a little kid on Sunday. My head almost hit the top of the swing set, but I ducked.

"If you get hurt, you can't sue me!" Riley yelled. I knew that she was joking, but her voice wavered like she was scared I'd get hurt. Doesn't she trust me? Sure, I have more fun than she does, and I'm not as book smart, but I'm street smart. I know my limits, even if she thinks I don't.

"Yeah, yeah. I know," I say back, being sarcastic. I shook my head and kept swinging. When I got to the highest point, I jumped off. I did a small flip in the air, but it also made me wobble.

"Whooooaaa!" I yell. As I hit the ground, I start rolling. Wood chips and rocks start flying up at me and I land in a leaf pile. The leaves fall over me and I'm nearly covered.

"Ricky! Oh my gosh!"

Riley ran over to me and started digging away at the leaves. I was rolled over on my side, shaking a bit.

"Are you okay?! Are you hurt?!"

She rolled me over and I just started laughing, the laughter shaking my body. She slapped me in the arm, annoyed with my so called 'antics'.

"You scared me!"

"Aw, did I? I'm fine, Riley Ray. You don't gotta worry about me. I'm one hundred percent fine."

"What about your head? You hit down pretty hard."

I bump myself on the head, knocking a fist into the top of my messy hair. "I've got a thick skull. I think I'm alright."

"Oh, shush."

She helped me stand up and forced me to put my arm around her shoulder. For as short as she is, she is very strong. She made me walk like that until we got back to her place, in which her folks made me sit down and wait as they tended every little scratch I got.

See, this is another point where Rylie and I differ. She's a worrier, and a right good one if you ask me. She doesn't know when to stop worrying. And her reading gets seeped into her brain, to the point where, when she talks, she just goes on and on.

I don't read. And I don't worry. I don't have trust issues like Rylie does. But what I do have is an insanely high amount of respect for her and her parents. She's the bread to my butter and the mac to my cheese. I love Rylie.

I guess those people are right: Opposites do attract.