The Meadow Between Us

### "The Meadow Between Us"

When Mia and Ben were little, they lived on opposite sides of the old creek that snaked through the town. The creek wasn’t wide—maybe just a few steps across—but it was deep enough that the town’s grown-ups had forbidden crossing it, warning the children about swift currents and slippery rocks.

Still, that didn’t stop Mia and Ben. They had always found a way to play together, even though their families were different, their lives separate. Ben was the son of the town’s mechanic, a quiet, serious boy who often tinkered with old radios and bicycles. Mia, on the other hand, was the daughter of the local librarian, a dreamer with a penchant for climbing trees and reading books in secret spots. Their worlds couldn’t have been more different, but the creek—their secret meeting place—was where their worlds always came together.

It was during one long summer afternoon that they first discovered the meadow on either side of the creek, where the grass grew tall and wild, and the air was thick with the scent of wildflowers and earth. Mia had wandered down the bank, book in hand, her mind lost in the pages, when she’d heard a rustling in the tall grass. Looking up, she saw Ben’s face peek through the waving green stalks.

“Ben?” she had asked, surprised, because she never expected to find him there.

“I followed you,” he said simply, smiling with that crooked grin he always had. “I wanted to see where you went when you disappeared.”

She laughed, feeling her cheeks flush. “I don’t disappear! I’m just reading.”

“That’s disappearing, isn’t it?”

And from that moment on, they shared the meadow as their secret world—a place where they could be whoever they wanted to be without anyone else around to judge. They built forts in the trees, hid messages in the bark, and spent hours lying on their backs, watching clouds drift by. They didn’t need words to be friends; they simply knew what the other liked, what made them laugh, what scared them.

But as the years passed, something started to change. The creek, once a simple boundary between their two worlds, began to feel like a divide, a wall between the children they had been and the teenagers they were becoming.

Mia’s parents started encouraging her to spend more time with other girls, to talk about clothes and boys, while Ben’s father hinted that maybe it was time for him to stop hanging around with “daydreamers” and start helping in the shop more. It wasn’t that they ever stopped being friends, but their lives slowly began to drift, like two rivers separating before merging again.

It was the last summer before high school, when everything seemed to shift for good. Mia had a new group of friends now, girls who painted their nails and talked about summer dances. She spent most of her afternoons at the community pool, trying on new looks and learning how to act “cool.” Ben, meanwhile, had started working part-time with his father, his hands growing rough and callused, his afternoons filled with the hum of car engines instead of the quiet chatter they’d once shared.

On one of those long, golden evenings, when the sun was dipping low and the creek was a mirror of pink and orange, Mia found herself walking down to the meadow again. She hadn’t been there in months, and even though she was surrounded by her friends more than ever, she felt a strange emptiness in her chest. Maybe it was just the passing of time, or maybe it was that she missed the simple joy of being with someone who understood her without needing explanations.

When she reached the meadow, she wasn’t surprised to see Ben there, sitting by the creek with a fishing pole in his hands, though they both knew there were no fish in the creek. The grass had grown wild again, and the air was thick with memories.

He didn’t look up when she approached, but she could see the familiar set of his shoulders, the way he held himself—so much like the boy she had known all those summers ago.

“Mia,” he said quietly, his voice carrying across the soft hum of the evening.

“Ben,” she replied, her heart suddenly full.

They sat there in silence for a long time, listening to the creek babble and the wind whisper through the trees. Finally, Mia broke the quiet.

“I’ve been busy,” she said, feeling awkward. “I’ve… changed.”

Ben nodded, his eyes not meeting hers. “I’ve changed too.”

“I know,” Mia whispered. She didn’t know why it made her heart ache, but it did.

Ben turned to her then, and his gaze softened. “You remember when we were little, how we promised we’d always be friends, no matter what?”

Mia smiled, though it felt a little bittersweet now. “Of course I do.”

“I still mean it,” Ben said, his voice low but steady. “Even if we’re different now. I don’t want that to change.”

She looked at him, really looked at him—the boy who had once been her whole world, who still felt like a part of her, even after everything. “Me neither,” she said softly.

They sat together for hours that evening, as the world slowly darkened around them, sharing stories of the time that had passed and the small, quiet ways they had changed. They didn’t promise anything—they didn’t need to.

In the meadow between them, it felt as though time had bent just enough to let them be children again, side by side.

And though they would grow older and their paths would eventually drift apart, the meadow remained. Their shared memories stayed nestled in the tall grass, where nothing could ever truly separate them, not even time.