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| Brown, leather flip-flops scuffed the walkway, as Mallory set off on her routine weekend venture in the park. The sun was peaking over the tufts of clouds that dotted the blue sky, and there was the lightest of breezes to balance the heat. It was perfect weather for a day in the park; a jog, a game of catch, or in Mal’s case, a walk with the family dog. Mallory had been walking her golden retriever, Tucker, for a good twenty minutes now, something she'd made a habit out of ever since she was allowed to go to the park on her own. The Davis family welcomed Tucker into their family soon after their move from New York, a gesture that Mallory’s parents made with intentions of cheering their twelve-year-old daughter up. While Mal missed her old friends, her old home, and even her own school, a brand new puppy certainly lifted her spirits. Being an only child could grow lonely at times, especially when both of her parents were working. As pathetic as it sounds, it was nice for Mal to have a “friend” around the house all of the time. With time, Mallory made plenty of friends, but still set aside time for Tucker. How sweet, right? Inhaling, Mallory seemed to take in all of her surroundings in one breath. Bluehill Park was beautiful, there was no denying that, but she couldn’t help but compare it to Central Park. Mallory always tended to compare Manhattan with Verona whenever it crossed her mind, but then she would then find herself feeling guilty. Over the years, Mal had learned to love Verona. It had been her home for the past five years, or so, and slighting it seemed unfair. Of course, there was no place like New York City, no place where you could find a new distraction about every corner, diversity at every block. Living in Alabama was great, but it grew old now and then. Everything seemed like a broken record, though that very well could have been because everyone was in everyone else’s business. On the contrary, Verona was a fresh start, a new, vivid way of seeing things. Never before had Mallory known a place that was so sentimental. And at the end of the day, Mal couldn’t imagine leaving Verona. Perhaps she was more of a small town girl than a big city slicker after all. On this particular day, the park was serene as always, sure, but still a popular place nonetheless. She looked to a nearby bench, where a mother and her young son were settled, each armed with an ice cream cone. The little boy appeared to be very concentrated on his ice cream, only to stare in complete shock as the top scoop slid off the top of the first one, falling to the ground with a splat. Mallory smiled to herself, probably not even realizing it. To most people it most likely wasn't even that funny, but Mallory always seemed to find the most random of situations humorous, laughing at all of the wrong times. A flaw to some, a goofy quirk to others. Moving on, Mallory passed an old man walking his dog- a basset hound, was it? Regardless of the breed, it was a dog, Tucker’s favorite thing to mess with. Tightening on the leash as Tucker lunged at the mellow dog, Mallory’s lips curled into an embarrassed smile. ”I’m sorry, he likes.. dogs,” was her make-shift apology, as she finally managed to lead her dog away. The man simply chuckled and nodded in understanding, leaving Mallory and Tucker on their own once more. Relaxing, Mal glanced down to the golden retriever, whose attention was now held captive by a squirrel scurrying up a tree. He, once again, made an attempt to chase after it, but Mallory pulled him away. It was nothing new, really. ”Come on,” she said with one last jerk, “Pick on someone your own size.” Yes, Mally talked to her dog, just like everyone else in the world. When she considered the outcome of Tucker listening to her suggestion, brawling with an animal as large as he, she winced inside. Now that, that would be dangerous. And definitely far more embarrassing than her experience today. As the pair neared an empty bench, Mallory approached it. A rest was beyond appealing right about now. She took a seat, lightly tugging at the hem of her shorts. A plain, fitted, white tee clung to her curves, bright against her olive skin. |