I turned 15 that summer. The boy was granted a rare day off from farm work, just to spend the day with me. He surprised me by taking me to a large city a few hours away for dinner, a movie, and a little shopping (he had gotten the outing pre-approved by my parents). I didn't want anything material from him, nor did I expect it, but I remember the boots. (Children of the 90's will appreciate this gift more than others). A pair of black, mid calf, lace up Dr. Martens.
I still have them. They are in the closet at my parents house.
That evening we returned to our small town and spent the evening cruising on the motorcycle before grabbing a pint of Ben and Jerry's and heading home.
Thoughts of the one person who was missing from my 15th birthday were pushed to the back of my mind.
I felt safe. I felt content.