As Simple as It Seems by Sarah Weeks

me tumbling awkwardly backward into the tall weeds.
    The fall knocked the wind out of me and I had to lie there for a few minutes, waiting to catch my breath. After a while, I heard a soft tinkling, like the sound of the wind chimes that hung from the corner of our frontporch. Closing my eyes, I listened. It wasn’t a bird, that much I could tell. But what could be making the sound? When I stood up, I was shocked to discover that flatlander boy, Pooch, standing a few feet away from me, his hands sunk deep in his pockets. Startled, I screamed—and to my surprise, so did he.
    â€œWhat are you screaming for?” I said, putting my hand over my thudding heart. “You’re the one who scared me.”
    He took his hands out of his pockets and quickly stepped backward.
    He was still wearing his long pants and long-sleeved shirt, but for some reason he’d added a red necktie to the outfit. His eyes were small and dark, like two raisins pressed into a ball of soft dough, and now that I was close enough, I could see that his freckled nose was crooked and set slightly off center on his face. I pushed my glasses up with a knuckle and pulled them partway back down.
    â€œWho do you think you are, spying on me like that?” I demanded.
    He took another step backward.
    â€œI wasn’t spying on you,” he said. “Honest.”
    He looked ridiculous in his necktie.
    â€œWhy are you so dressed up?” I asked. “It’s summer, in case you haven’t noticed. Don’t you have any shorts?”
    He looked down, nervously fingering his tie. Then he looked back up at me and swallowed a couple of times before answering.
    â€œI don’t usually wear a tie,” he began. His voice cracked and he swallowed again before continuing. “I put it on for you. I thought maybe I should be dressed up. You know, out of respect.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?”
    â€œI can take it off if you want,” he said quickly. “I wasn’t sure what to wear. I’ve never done this before.”
    â€œDone what? Scared someone half to death?”
    He broke into a goofy grin.
    â€œYou think that’s funny?” I snapped. “You could give somebody a heart attack, sneaking up on them like that.”
    His smile faded immediately.
    â€œI’m—I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Honest. It’s just, well, you have to admit, it is kind of funny, you know, the idea of me scaring you .”
    â€œYeah. Hilarious,” I said sarcastically. “But maybe that’s your idea of fun where you come from.”
    â€œI’m from the city,” he said.
    I didn’t need to ask him which city he meant, since people from New York City always referred to it as “the city,” as if it were the only one worth mentioning.
    He stepped forward, extending his hand for me to shake.
    â€œMy name is Robert, but you can call me Pooch,” he said.
    I crossed my arms over my chest, making it clear I had no intention of shaking his hand.
    â€œDon’t you city people know it’s rude to spy on someone?” I said, even though I’d been spying on him myself earlier.
    Pooch let his hand drop down by his side. Then he started scratching his elbow through his shirtsleeve.
    â€œI wasn’t spying,” he said. “I was waiting.”
    â€œFor what?”
    â€œFor you,” he said, still scratching.
    â€œHow could you be waiting for me? Nobody even knows I’m here.”
    â€œThe lady at the post office does,” he said. “She’s the one who told me.”
    â€œFrancine? How would she know where I was? She must have been talking about somebody else.”
    Pooch shook his head.
    â€œShe was talking about you. I’m positive.”
    Flatlanders were such know-it-alls.
    â€œHow can you be positive she was talking about me? You don’t even know who I am,” I told