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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Today's the day. Today's the day that my best friend in the entire world—leaves. Over these last few weeks I've tried my best to act like it wasn't bothering me as much as it actually was. But I knew that Rick saw right through me. I was just thankful that he didn't read too much into it, hence us not really having the whole how we'll stay in touch conversation.
I lie in bed, my back facing my bedroom door. I can hear my mother downstairs, most likely doing her Saturday-morning cleaning. Usually, I'd be down there with her . . . and my father, doing whatever list of chores she'd given us.
But today is different. Rick and his family leave at six-thirty to the airport. My alarm began blaring at five-forty-five, alerting me that it was time to get up, get dressed, and make my way to Rick's house.
I showered and dressed into modest, not wanting to be too overdress for an occasion like this one. When I made my way down the staircase, there my mother stood, a pitiful look on her face. It made me feel like crying.
"You ready to go?" She asks, hiking her purse over her shoulder, her keys in hand.
I nod, jogging down the last bit of steps. "Yeah, I'm ready." My words are quiet.
She reaches out, and loops her arm through mine. My hands are stuffed inside of the pocket of my sweatshirt as she does so. We make our way out to her car after locking up the house. The drive to Rick's is quiet, solemn. Like my mother doesn't want to say the wrong thing.
And if I'm honest, I don't blame her. These days, I know that I haven't been the easiest person to talk to. Because as hard as I try not to let everything bother me—it's getting harder and harder to ignore the fact that everything is changing.
I've never done too well with change.
We pull into Rick's driveway slowly, our eyes adjusting to multiple moving trucks parked in front of the large home. I can see Rick and his father loading box after box into one of the trucks, when Rick turns and notices that we've just gotten there.
The blonde runs over, a flappy smile on his face. "Hey, man. Thanks for coming, I know it's a little early."
"Of course," I say, sliding out of the passenger side, watching as my mother follows my lead. "I wouldn't miss this for anything." Rick opens his arms, engulfing me in the tightest embrace we've ever shared.
His arms loop around my waist, mine around his neck with my face nuzzling into his neck. Tears threaten to fall but I stop them, remembering the promise I'd made myself about waiting until Rick was actually gone, to cry.
I hold on tighter than I'd ever held anyone else. And I think that Rick can feel this because he squeezes me right back, one of his hands coming to hold the back of head, practically cradling me.
