The place where it all began (Five minutes freewrite)

She's running ahead of him, her white skirt blowing in the wind, not revealing anything as she clutches at it with one hand. Not that she has a problem with putting her gorgeous assets on display, for whoever would like to stare at her ample breasts or her long tanned legs. He's seen her in many skimpy outfits at football practice or climbing into some guy's car, but that was before. The Sylvia who fell in love with him is different, he is the one who changed her, because he, Danny, he's not like the other guys, who have nothing but sex and parties on their minds.
'You're not like them, Danny', that's what she said, resting her head on his shoulder.
As he's walking down the path, Danny sees her inviting smile and her almond-shaped eyes beckoning him to follow her across the field, towards the line of tress, where they would lie down in the shade and he'll play with the buttons of her blouse and she'll guide his sweaty hand under her skirt, along the calf until it reaches the small triangle of her silk pants. He remembers picking wildflowers, purple, they were surely purple, and laying them one by one on her naked belly, making her giggle. He remembers whispering I love you into her soft ear. He remembers every single word that was said, every kiss. The place where they had sex that day. The only time they had sex. Right there on the grass. The happiest day of his life. Or so he thought at the moment. The next day, Sylvia passed him down the hall and did not even look at him. Like he'd ceased to exist as far as she was concerned. Which was painfully true, she'd only slept with him on a dare. See what it's like to fuck Danny The Nerd Jackson. Terrible, as she confided to a couple of her closest friends. By the end of the day, the whole school was aware he was a total loser.

But that was in the past. He's only imagining Sylvia because he came here. And now the sun gets in his eyes and he rubs at them furiously until all vision of Sylvia is wiped away. There's no regret in his heart, only relief - he's not here for that bitch, he's here to pick flowers for Cindy, the girl he's been secretly in love for the past three months. He never would've thought he'd have the courage to talk to her until that day in the coffee-shop. He was looking around for a place to sit and there she was, all alone at a table and their eyes met and she smiled. Nothing has happened yet, but he has a feeling today's the day. When he talked to her this morning he suggested she could come over and they'd make popcorn and watch movie. She didn't rule it out. And now he's here to pick some flowers, the purple ones would sit so nice on the coffee table, make the room more friendly and cozy.
'I picked these for you', he'll say. And she'll love him for this.
No way he can shush the sarcastic voice in his head.
'Maybe she'll think it's lame.'
He is aware of that, how could he not be? But he's not worried, he's not in high-school anymore, he's learned how to deal with rejection. If, for some reason, Cindy will find him lame she can very well join Sylvia and rest with her under the trees where such beautiful flowers grow.

Story written for @mariannewest's freewrite challenge. Today's prompt was: wildflowers! For some reason, the prompt made me think of the amazing video above.
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Image is mine.

Thanks for reading!