The night was cool, but not cold enough to warrant the heavy sweater she wore. She shrugged under its weight and continued on across the abandoned parking lot toward her car. It sat alone, the single survivor of the day. It was typically here, halfway between her car and the depot that she quickened her step in an effort to get to it. Usually, she was more than ready to go home, but today was different. What was she going home to? An empty room? The four walls of the bedroom in the apartment she shared with three other girls didn’t seem nearly as exciting as three months ago, when she first moved in.

She sighed. Why put it off? There’s no use delaying the inevitable.

Only one thing stood between her and the car–a grassy knoll. The knoll had been figured into the architecture of the lot, designed so perfectly that it would appear natural–as if the blacktop had parted just for this little slip of grass; the last bit of color in the cement ocean that surrounded her. Even the yellow lines seemed faded and chipped–slowly being swallowed up by the ever-growing concrete. A few trees with bare limbs moved stiffly in the cool night breeze, but even the small sign of life they seemed to represent was overshadowed by the dark color of the pavement.

Everything looked dead. Everything felt dead. The only sound that broke the deadening silence was the faint whirl of the generator powering the flickering streetlight.
It’s a good thing that no one is waiting here to run off with me, she thought dryly. No one was around, and with the flashing light, anyone could be hiding in the shadows and I wouldn‘t even know.

The thought should have scared her. It should have made her take off across the knoll and jump into her car and lock all the doors. But it didn’t. It made her walk even more slowly toward the parting, hoping that someone would seize the chance to kidnap her. They wouldn’t get much, she laughed to herself, but at least I would be spared another day of this…monotony. Maybe they’d stuff me into a van and drive to Canada. I’ve always wanted to go there. Maybe they’d take me so far away that I might even forget who I am. Would that be so bad?

She reached the place where the blacktop ended. She felt as if she were standing on a beach and the grass was the water. She longed to dip her toe into it. That’s when the sign caught her eye:

KEEP OFF THE GRASS.

She glanced toward the sidewalk that would add another thirty seconds to her destination. She knew about rules, about how they were made for your own good, but she also knew that they were meant to be broken. But could she bring herself to break such a rule? Had she ever broken a rule in her whole life? She didn’t think so; not that anyone would believe that, she the straight-A honor student with a full scholarship could break a rule knowingly. Who am I kidding? The only time I’ve ever seen the inside of the principal’s office was to plan senior prom. Rebellion just isn’t in my vocabulary. I’m the good girl; destined to live and die being good and wholesome, never to have a cross thought ever.

Without another thought, she sat her heavy backpack down on the edge of the pavement and pulled the thick sweater off, flinching at the shiny metal nameplate that glinted in the light.

Jane. Jane Lane. Plain Jane Lane.

That had been her nickname in high school, because when everyone else had been necking in the backseats of shiny little sports cars, she’d been either working or studying. There was nothing flashy about Plain Jane. Not the plain burgundy sweater and khakis she wore, or the figure she lacked.. She was a stick. A stick with straight brown hair and dull brown eyes. A plain name for a plain girl.

Next, she untied her shoes and peeled off her socks. Then she dove into the grass, well as much as one could dive off of a six inch embankment of blacktop. But the deed was done. She had broken the only rule of the parking lot. She was on the grass.
At first she just walked around, enjoying the feeling of grass between her toes. She hadn’t felt grass on her bare feet since she was ten. She just concentrated on the feeling of the cool dewy grass as her feet tenderly mashed it down. It was so simple, yet it made her so happy. She tossed her head back and laughed aloud. Seizing her chance for silliness, she began to chase her disappearing shadow in the sputtering light, laughing and giggling as if she had lost the last bit of her mind.

When she was out of breath and exhausted, she flopped down, lying on her stomach first and then flipping over on her back to stare up at the night sky. Stars twinkled high above the world she knew; the cool grass against her skin, the smell of gasoline, the hush of the night. Her tee-shirt was damp from her sweat mingled with the dew of the grass but she didn’t care. She couldn’t remember feeling this liberated, this free.

Absently, she wondered what she would say if someone came around. How could she explain why she was rolling around in a patch of grass? She could always claim innocence, no one told her that she couldn’t sit on the grass and enjoy the night air. No one had bothered to tell me a lot of things about college–that I would be lonely most of the time, that I would be torn in two when it comes down to knowing what I want out of life, that if I don’t worship the gods of Jack Daniels and Jim Beam that I would be universally rejected in most social groups. There were many things that no one told me so why can‘t I just lie? Then me, telling a lie is almost as bad as being on the grass. But who cares? I don’t.

She stood up carefully, and began to pace around, her stride becoming angry. Why should I have to lie? Why should anyone care that I’m enjoying the grass? What could they do to me? Arrest me? Send me to jail? It would be something to read about in the papers: LOCAL GIRL ARRESTED FOR WALKING ON GRASS. The thought made her laugh, but not nearly as much as the thought of going to prison and being asked by her cellmate what she was in for.

“What? Did you knife someone? Push some poor bastard in front of a bus?”
She would just smile. “No, I was on the grass.”
The real smile faded. Was it natural to wish to be kidnapped or think that you might be taken to jail for being on the grass? She didn’t think so. She didn’t think that other people felt the way she did–she was already in prison, a prison of repetition and lackluster existence. There was no spontaneity in her life. It was as if on the day she was born, the doctor looked at her mother and said plainly,

“Well, Mrs. Lane, I’ve discussed with the nursing staff and we’ve decided that your daughter is going to be so straight-laced and good that one cool night, she’s going to snap and end up rolling around on the grass of a parking lot in spite of a sign telling her not to.”

As ridiculous as that sounds, I can believe it. Everything up until this point in my life has been someone else’s plan. She’d never wanted to come to this university or better yet, she’d never wanted to pursue a degree in business. Business was too boring for her mind. I want something exciting, something that can take my breath away and give me a reason to get out of bed in the morning, not a reason to slam the snooze button on me alarm clock. Her life had been planned out and rules made just for her. But tonight she’d done something amazing. She’d strayed from the path designed for her. What had happened? What have I done? It had all started with the grass, but now, there was no going back. I can’t go back.