the way you'd love her

T W O

GAGE

Oh my fucking God.
Oh my FUCKING God.
Are you kidding me right now? Is the universe playing a big old joke on me right now? Because there is no way that the chick who is running towards me right now is Belle. The tan girl whose breasts are practically jumping out of her hot pink tank top that reached her belly button. Her slender legs were on full display with those jean shorts she was wearing. Woah. I feel like I can't breathe. I cleared my throat and pushed away the dirty thoughts I just imagined in my mind.

Belle Lockwood has been my best friend since we were in diapers. Growing up, she was always shy. Always had her damn nose in a book. That girl had read every single book by the fucking Bronte sisters by the age of twelve. When she wasn't being a nerd, she was hanging out with me. I was pretty much her only friend, unless you counted her cat or little sister. So when she told me she was going to this summer camp all the way in Utah, I was pretty shocked. She isn't the most outgoing, but apparently volunteering there is good for college applications or whatever. She's crazy smart by the way, always has been. She's also been very...modest. I'm not dumb. I notice things. Like how she has 48 freckles splattered all over her face. The way her nose curves into a cute little button at the end. The way she bites her lips when she's deep in thought. And those eyes, man. Don't get me started on those eyes. Nick Adams used to call her buggsy because of how big her eyes were. When she found out, she cried to me. The next day, I beat Nick Adams up.

I'm in love with Belle. I always have been. I love how she doesn't know how beautiful she is. I love the way she treats her mother and sister. I love the fact that she trusts me. Of course, she doesn't know about my infatuation. I know she doesn't like me back, and I have worked to make peace with that. I missed her more than anything this summer, but I just replaced her with a boxing bag. And it worked, kinda. With the help of some nameless girls this summer, I started to forget about my little crush on her. But the second I saw her running towards me at the airport, all of my feelings came back, stronger than ever before.

You see, the reason I couldn't stop staring Belle down like she was prey, was because she looked...not like Belle. Oversized clothes were her holy grail. I swear, I wouldn't have even known what her body truly looked like unless we were going to the beach, or her mom forced her to wear a dress. But I liked her modesty, it suits her. Suited her, I guess. Because the girl I was staring at earlier looked like she walked straight out of a fashion show. She had these blue beads in her hair, probably a summer camp thing. I smiled at the thought.

How was I supposed to get her out of my head now? It was impossible, literally. I had been home for five hours now, and I couldn't stop thinking about Belle. About how in two hours I'll be sitting with her in our tree house. I think she lost some weight. Belle was always a little bigger than most girls we know. It wasn't like, bad or anything. She was curvy in all of the right places. Her curves are still there, but her stomach seemed to shrink a little. I thought about how she used to starve herself in middle school. One day, she fainted in the middle of the school day. When she woke up, I found out that she hadn't eaten in fifty six hours. I sat with her for every meal for like seven months straight after that.

Before I knew it, it was ten thirty. I took off my gloves and headed upstairs to shower. It was probably dumb to shower before going outside, but I didn't want to sit with her all sweaty and gross. So I showered, and put on some cologne before feeling like a fool.

You know she will never like you the way you like her. The way you love her. You're just a friend. The fact that you're still trying is beyond embarrassing. Stop being a bitch.

I shook my head and changed into a tank top and some pajama pants, ignoring my subconscious. Sometimes I feel like it's a good thing, her not loving me. I would probably never leave her side. I walked over to my parents room.

"Hey dad, where's ma?" I asked.
"Downstairs baking for tomorrow. We're having the Lockwoods over for brunch."
"Cool. I'm gonna head to the treehouse real quick." I said, walking out of his room.
"Did you tell her yet?" My father shouted before I could leave. I turned around and furrowed my eyebrows.
"Tell who what?" I asked, confused.
"Belley. That you love her." My dad looked up from his iPad and smirked. I laughed it off.
"You're getting real old, John." I addressed him jokingly, swallowing to get over the fact that somehow my dad knows about my feelings. What the fuck? I've never said a word, how could he possibly know?

"You laugh now son, but I look at your mother the same way. You know, someday a guy who's smarter than you is gonna ask her out. And then you're going to regret not telling her sooner." He spoke wisely.
"Quit it, dad." I muttered lowly. I know he's right. Hearing it doesn't make it any easier.
"Be safe, Gage. I love you."
"Love you too old man." I said, exiting the room. I pulled out my phone. Shit, it's 11:07. I made my way downstairs and to our backyard without having to face my mom.

Does she know too? And what does he know about the way I look at her? For all my dad knows, I could look at every girl like that. God, he's right though. So far, I've managed to steer away any guy who has tried something with Belle. It hasn't been too hard, considering she barely goes out. If she lets me drag her to the occasional party, she doesn't dress up. She never did her makeup, and she hid behind these big black glasses for all of her life. Most guys just want a quick hookup. I would never let anyone use Belle like that. That's the main reason why I don't let guys talk to her. That's what I tell myself, at least.

I finally reach the treehouse five minutes later. My dad had built it when we were five, in the woods behind our houses. The city would probably tear it down if they found it, considering it's not technically on our property, but we've been good for seventeen years. I can see Belle sitting in her chair looking up at the stars. Having a dad who is also in construction really pays off, because he built a sunroof in our treehouse. It's pretty sick. She looks down at something, probably her phone, and sighs. I see her bare arms and almost hit myself. Stop thinking with your dick, Gage. Just go up to her before you're even more late.

I climb up the stairs and open the door. She smiles and gets up, hugging me. Since when did we hug so much? Damn. She grabs my arm and sits me down on the bean bag, then takes a seat right next to me. Our sides are touching and I feel like I'm on fire. I cant even open my mouth to say anything.