Ben and I walk silently until we reach the park that has been an all too familiar destination for us. I grab his hand and pull him along through the park gates.

"Where are we going?" Ben asks with a tone that sounds like he's about ready to burst into tears.

"You'll see," I tell him softly in an attempt to keep him from crying. I pull him on the trail that only a couple days ago we walked along. We reach the lake, and I have him sit down. Ben keeps his eyes locked on the ground, focusing on the blades of grass grazing against his skin.

"We need to talk about earlier," I tell him, "no matter if you want to or not."

Near silently, Ben says, "I'm sorry."

"I really don't like what I saw today. Not only did you attack someone, you didn't even try to talk to me," I say as he still doesn't look at me, "I know you haven't had the years to get used to this stuff, but I still thought maybe you would try to talk to someone who has." I make a gesture towards myself because, let's face it, I'm the expert in this situation. Ben knows this fact too; he's been friends with all those guys for as long as sports started being offered to students in our district. He knows everything they've called me, all the snide comments made about me said both to me and behind my back, and probably even more than what I know. The guilt painted on his face clearly shows this.

He looks at me for a second before turning his gaze back to the dirt. He starts plucking the grass as a way to distract him from the current situation. This brings me back to the last day of school. I did the same thing when I thought no one was going to choose me, but that is a far different, far more simple, scenario. I start to recall all the days leading up to this exact moment, and I realize just how harsh I'm being about this. I'm his first boyfriend, and it wasn't until the other day anyone thought he wasn't straight, except maybe his mom. It's this realization that makes me stop for a second and think because I was just driving the metaphorical knife in deeper that was already hurting Ben. I mean, yes, he hurt someone physically, but he was also hurt emotional. I take a second to recollect and reorganize my thoughts before speaking again.

"Listen, I may be mad right now, but I'm not going to stay mad at you," I try to reassure him, "because I understand why you did what you did; he tried to hurt both of us, and he took away your chance to come out on your terms to most people."

He shifts closer to me, and I pull him into a hug. I feel the tears that have been building up slowly come out of him.

"I wish I could take back what I did," he whimpers, "but I can't; please don't hate me."

"Shhhh, don't talk like that," I rub the back of his neck, "I will always love you, and nothing will change that."

"Why pick me?" he asks as he bursts into a giant river of tears, "you could have someone so much better." I hold him as tight as I can, and I try my hardest to reassure him. I feel the warmth as my shoulder and back are dowsed in the current rainfall of tears escaping my boyfriend.

Once he calms down enough, I pull away to look into his eyes, "I picked you because I love every single aspect about you, and I wouldn't change a thing about who I'm dating no matter what; don't you forget that." I plant a kiss on his forehead, which brings a slight smile to his face.

We sit and stare at the water. The gentle movements calm down the tension that has built itself up like a castle full of defenses. I rest a hand atop Ben's. I hope the gentle intimacy helps him feel better. Slowly, he interlocks our fingers together.

Ben turns his head towards me, "I really am sorry about today."

I rest my head on his shoulder, "I know." I wrap my arm around his shoulder and squeeze him as tight as I can. I pay attention to his breathing as it becomes more regularly paced. I try to move my hand to feel his heartbeat, and I think he realized what I was doing because he moved in closer. I get my hand in the right position, and I feel the rhythmic bouncing of his heart. I hate that I caused Ben to cry, but I know it was probably necessary.

Slowly, I see something go across the water. It's a family of ducks that look strangely familiar. I turn to Ben and whisper, "I think those are the ducks that chased us."

He chuckles, "they chased you, I was dragged along by you."

"I stand by what I said."

He giggles, "I... I love you."

"I love you too," I tell him and give him a small peck on his lips.

We stand up and start to walk away from the water, partially out of fear the ducks haven't forgotten me. I hold myself as close to Ben as possible. I don't want him to keep thinking I'm mad at him because I never could stay mad.

We step out of the trail, and I let go of him. I know kids our age know, but I don't know if that means he's ready to just openly show everyone. That is until I look down at his fingers, which slowly make their way into a position to hold onto mine. I look up at him with a smile, and he looks back with the smile I love and adore so much. It makes me wonder how anyone could possibly stay mad at someone like him because just one smile and I'm down for the count. I go to surprise him with a kiss, but to my shock, he had the same idea. I love him so much, and nothing is ever going to change that.