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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The rest of that night was quiet. I hardly spoke to Spencer, who seemed to be enjoying exchanging sibling war stories with Elijah, who listened for hours on end. By the time the movie started, I had sat myself down in the seat closest to the wall of the row in the theatre we had chosen.
It was just high enough so that we had a clear view of the screen, but low enough so that I didn't have to climb a hundred steps to leave, and come back again. I was sat next to Elijah, who had his right arm thrown over the back of my chair. When I first noticed that he'd done it, I smiled subtly to myself, knowing that if I commented on it, he'd move it.
I held both arms close to my chest as I watched the movie in absolute silence, occasionally letting out a chuckle at a funny part. Everyone else seemed to be doing the same thing, all except for KJ. He held his gaze toward the screen, hardly blinking every few seconds.
Rolling my eyes was inevitable when he finally stood from his seat, on the far left of the row, and descended down the lit staircase that lead outside of the theatre. Elijah saw my expression of distaste in the corner of his eye, turning to me with a raised brow.
"Don't pay attention to him," he whispered closely, turning his torso so that he was no longer facing Spencer, who had become solely focused on the movie, and was now facing me. "Next time he won't be invited. I promise."
The look on Elijah's handsome features show me that he is sincerely apologetic about how the night has been going so far, but I simply shake my head. Now uncrossing my arms to appear less hostile, and more approachable. "You don't have to do that. We're both your friend, we'll just have to find a way to tolerate each other."
"Think you can manage that without trying to gouge his fucking eyes out?" he asks jokingly, with his full lips spread out into a knowing smirk. The arm that has itself planted behind my head, now so close to my neck that I can feel the little bit of hairs that he has growing there.
"I think I can," I smile, eyes locking with his green ones, the sound of the movie being drowned out into the background by our conversation. "Do you think you can manage sneaking your car onto my parents driveway at . . ." I take a peak down at my cellphone, and chuckle as I see the time. " . . . at eleven o'clock?"
Elijah's eyes widen briefly when I say the time, his hand reaching for my cellphone. When he reads it for himself, he sighs inwardly. "Shit. I forget that you have like, a curfew or something."
Scoffing, I reach out, grasping onto my cellphone, and sliding it back into my front pocket. "Oh, come on. I do not have a curfew. Just a set specific time that my parents prefer me to get home every night."
"Gage," he begins, "that's a curfew."
"It is not." I defend myself, trying my best to hide the grin that threatens to grace my lips.
