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Rhiannon
Oliver wasn’t sure if this was such a good idea after all, what with breaking the law and all, the whole thing wasn’t feeling as spontaneous as he’d hoped. That nervous rolling he sometimes got in his stomach had recently made an appearance, and the feeling of being so high in the air made him a little dizzy.
Then of course he wasn’t sure she really deserved this of him. They were dating, yes, but was she really worthy of vandalism? He wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t sure that he’d ever be sure. Maybe that in itself meant he didn’t love her. When you love someone, he’d heard, you’re supposed to know it. If there was a question in his mind, could it really ever be love? He didn’t know.
So while he was working things out, he shook the spray paint in his right hand and paced back and forth – 130 feet above the dead grass and overgrown weeds. The grated walkway was surprisingly roomy, and Alex had room to sit with his legs dangling off the edge without getting in the way of his pacing. Alex had been fairly quiet, just staring at the now blue-black sky, watching the stadium lights over at the high school football field come on. The water tower was high enough to see most of the town, and for most of the town to see.
She would really eat this up, Oliver knew. She would love to see her name up here, and there was that word again. Love. He was pretty sure he didn’t love her now. Not that he wasn’t fond of her, because he was, it was all just missing something. But he liked her. He really did. Maybe that was enough.
He’d do it, and she’d love it, and he wouldn’t have to think about this anymore. At the sound of silence from the spray can, Alex turns.
Quickly, Oliver paints her name, letters tall and thick, royal blue. R-H-I-A-N-N-O-N, so everyone driving by will be able to read it and know that someone loved a girl with that name. For years and years they’d see her name and they’d know. Would they think he loved her? He hopes so.
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