Beautiful Milk

 I caught fire.

 My heart exploded like a firecracker being thrown for the

 first time. When I saw her, my breath whooshed out of me, faster than a toddler escaping a spanking. Pure adrenaline

 and heat coursed through my veins.

 It was, absolutely, love at first sight.

 She was stunning. Soft, strawberry hair, mimicking that of

 a robin’s breast; milky skin, mimicking that of...well, milk;

 deep brown eyes resembling that of chocolate milk. A lot

 of milk. Like I said, love at first sight.

 We were at the waterpark, of all places, when I first laid

 eyes on her. She stood in line waiting for ice cream,

 looking bored...actually, she looked like she was in pain. I

 thought it was odd, considering she was waiting for ice

 cream. Her pained, beautiful expression was what

 captured my heart.

 And then she passed out.

 I sprinted to her—dropping my Italian ice like a hot pie (not potato, I hate those things)—and crashed to my knees. My

 lifeguard training came in handy: I checked for a pulse,

 found a faint one, and then started CPR.

 A crowd started to form, and I tossed my golden curls out

 of my eyes as I tried to pump my hands on her blue bikini

 top. Yes, I am a gentleman. No, I didn’t mind giving her

 CPR.

 “Will she be okay!?” a voice shrieked. “Her name is Vivian

 —” (MY heart skipped a beat at hearing her beautiful

 name for the first time) “—and she hasn’t drank water ALL

 day. I TOLD her to drink water, dammit! I should have

 made her!”

 For a second I glanced up and saw the owner of the shrill

 voice. It was a blond girl, and she didn’t hold a candle to

 the gorgeous, unconscious Vivian beneath my palms (that

 kind of sounds creepy...how about, “the gorgeous,

 unconscious Vivian I was performing CPR on”). The

 shrieking blond looked like she’d seen a ghost. Her pink

 bikini was shimmering with blinding sequins, and she

 looked like she was about to puke all over it.

 “Did someone call an ambulance?” a woman asked,

 kneeling down next to me. “I’m a doctor,” she explained.

 “Need me to take over?”

 I quickly glanced her way and weighed my options: a) I

 could continue performing CPR until I NEEDED to switch

 (safety first, ego last) resuscitate her successfully, and be

 hailed her hero when she comes to, or b) let this doctor

 take over and go back to my Italian ice, or what was left of

 it, and potentially never see her again. I picked option a.

 “I’m good, Doc. I just started,” I explained, staring at

 Vivian’s partially opened, perfect mouth.

 “Have you started mouth-to-mouth?” The doctor asked,

 leaning toward said perfect mouth, listening for an exhale

 of breath.

 “Not yet, do you think I should?” I asked. My stomach

 suddenly felt as though a hundred butterflies

 simultaneously broke out of their cocoons.

 “Let me do this, kid, this is my career,” the doctor said,

 forcibly moving me out of the way.

 I relinquished my lifeguard instincts and moved to stand

 next to the shrieking, sequin-covered blond.

 She was crying now, and had her hands wrapped around

 her waist. Shivers wracked her body, no doubt from her

 damp bikini and the gently blowing breeze. Well, that and

 her unconscious friend on the ground.

 “So, you’re Vivian’s friend?” I asked casually, trying to take

 her attention away from ViIvan, who was now receiving

 mouth-to-mouth from the doctor.

 “Y-Yeah,” she answered. “She’s my best friend.”

 I nodded and patted her shoulder. Apparently, this friendly

 shoulder pat gave her indirect permission to wail

 unconsolably, wrap herself around my torso with a vice

 grip, and stain my chest with mascara. I glanced around,

 uncomfortable in thinking someone would peg me as

 THAT guy. You know, the one who sidles up next to

 damsels in distress in order to cop a feel. I met eyes with a

 dude, and he gave me a thumbs up. I sighed.

 Pushing the blond away as casually as possible, I asked,

 “What’s your name?”

 She swiped under her eyes and sniffled delicately.

 “Meredith.”

 “We got her!” the doctor yelled. I glanced down to Vivian

 and saw that she was looking around and trying to sit up.

 “Here you go,” the doctor encouraged calmly, “that’s it.”

 The doctor helped Vivian sit up, and the crowd that had

 formed started to clap.

 “Here’s some water,” a random woman from the crowd

 said, extending a thermos of water from one of the nearby

 snack shacks. It was in the shape of a scuba tank and

 read, ‘Catch your breath at Scuba’s!’ Ironic, much?

 Vivian glanced blankly around with a wide-eyed

 expression. Meredith threw herself to the concrete.

 “Oh, VIVIAN! You’re ALIVE!” She yelled, throwing her

 arms around Vivian’s elegant neck.

 “Easy there, Barbie, let her breathe a little,” the doctor

 ordered. She nudged Meredith back, preventing her from

 nearly suffocating Vivian, and placed her hand on Vivian’s

 shoulder. “You’re lucky this quick-thinking kid was here,”

 she told Vivian, pointing in my direction.

 Vivian looked up at me, and I swear the world ground to a

 halt, like jamming on a car’s breaks when you see a deer.

 But this deer was stunning, and had eyes that I swore

 could see right through me.

 “Thank you,” she said, looking up at me. She looked

 slightly confused, and rubbed at her eyes, like she had just

 woken up from a nap.

 “You’re welcome,” I squeaked. Wimp.

 “You should probably get that head checked out. Landing

 on the concrete is no fun,” the doctor insisted. “You

 probably passed out from dehydration, but I’d go in for an

 additional checkup.”

 Vivian nodded slowly, and sipped more water through the

 thermos straw. Meredith sniffled quietly and rubbed

 Vivian’s back. I stood with my hands in my swim-short

 pockets, watching the crowd disperse. I even got a few

 claps on the back and “Nice thinking,” or “Good work,”

 from some people.

 Meredith and the doctor helped Vivian stand up. She was

 a little shaky on her feet, but for the most part seemed

 okay. I smiled at the doctor as she nodded toward me and

 made her way back to her lounge chair.

 “So, what’s your name?” Vivian asked me.

 “Victor,” I supplied weakly, surely convinced I was going to

 pass out myself while talking to this beautiful angel.

 “Well, thank you so much Victor. I think I owe you one,”

 Vivian smiled. She leaned in to kiss me on the cheek,

 which I would have joyfully accepted, but...well, my heart

 vetoed my brain and any shred of common sense I had,

 and I turned my face to meet her lips.

 Let me tell you: this was the kiss of the century. I’ll spare

 you the details...but I’ll have you know that Meredith had

 to pull Vivian back. Yes, love at first sight for me, and love

 at first lip-lock for Viv.

 When Meredith pulled us apart, and we stared

 breathlessly at each other, I asked the question I would

 come to ask again (more seriously), when we were both in

 our 20s.

 “Will you marry me?”

 Viv just laughed at me then. But yesterday,

 well...yesterday she said yes.