Gage Cilleti has just begun his junior year of high school, and is becoming more and more involved in his school's activities, considering he'd been playing baseball since he was just seven-years-old.
Elijah McCay has just dropped out of school, du...
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Elijah was once again, my ride home. I wave an awkward goodbye from my driveway as he pulls out. My heart feels warm, as though our conversation blocked out any stress or concentration I'd been feeling.
While with him, it feels like he could be a good friend. But knowing myself, I still wanted more.
When I was just a kid, I'd first began falling for him because we shared something great—baseball. I remember it like it was yesterday. I would watch from the bench at games as he showed off to everyone in the stands. And almost every girl in the crowd shouting out McCay.
Back when I was a freshman, I would find myself dozing off to the thought of a fantasy. Usually, the fantasy would consist of the two of happy—alike all of the other couples around me.
Back then, everyone in my grade had been having firsts. Their first kiss, first love, and losing their virginities.
But I was alone.
I would watch as even Rick found himself with girl after girl, explaining to me how much fun dating actually was. Especially when you drove yourself to your dates.
Boys didn't pay much attention to me. Considering the fact that I'm most likely the only out student at Wayland.
So, when Terrance began to look my way—I leaped at the opportunity to finally feel what everyone else felt. Appreciated, happy, in love.
But I never had the opportunity to fall for Terrance. Sophomore year ended, and I didn't hear from him during the duration of summer break. I had been so sad, so confused.
And when my father offered to send me off to summer camp, I agreed, wanting nothing more than a distraction.
Elijah McCay had always seemed so far, so out of reach and—just a simple fantasy. I knew that. But when he took me out to dinner, and even offered me some sort of advice—I couldn't help, I fell again.
It was times like this that I felt easy. Easy, and like if a guy even held a door open for me, I'd fall for him right then and there. I don't know when it started, my insistent need for validation from a boy.
Even with my little experience.
When I pushed the front door open to my home, there stood my mother. She stood tall, a pair of heels boosting her even higher. Her dark, usually pin straight hair, had been curled neatly. And her face was decorated beautifully with makeup I'd never seen her wear before.
She was bent over the kitchen counter, flipping something over a pan and smiling over at me, once noticing that I'd arrived.
I smiled right back. "You look beautiful, mom. What's the occasion?"
