Scenes to See

Age Gap

She had felt this way for a while. She felt so passionate about this man she had worked up the courage to confess, something no woman, or person in general, did too often. 

She figured flowers would be too feminine for him, but showing up with a six-pack of beer didn't seem appropriate either, not that she could get any. So all she really did was the best she could, dressing in a nice outfit and getting her makeup done by someone she knew wouldn't mess it up. 

There had been so many risks. It was late at night, she was only doing this out of impulse, and there was no telling how he'd react. All she could do was try. But even then, this man.

Her parents' closest and oldest friend. Almost their age. A grown man, who had a home, a home that she waited outside of for ten minutes. 

A man who works a nine-to-five, and who exhaustedly drove home to see her pacing on his driveway. "Adeline," He panicked, jumping out of his truck when he saw her. "Did something happen, what's the matter," He rushed to her side.

Seeing him there, in his casual work attire, towering over her, his touch so full of urgency. She majorly overestimated herself. "C-can I talk to you," She whispered instead of the confession she had rehearsed so many times in her head. 

So he brought her inside, took her to the couch, and sat her down, fully invested in what she had to say, "It's late, sweetie, what's so important?"

Sweetie. The word made her heart skip a beat. There was no going back. She told him everything. About how her feelings had started, how she tried to make them go away. She told him that every touch, every 'sweetie' made her burst into flames. It was more than a crush, she had grown, she was mature now, and this was real. 

"Sweetie," She frowned at his tone. 

And that night she went to bed sobbing into her pillow. 

She was too young. Of course, she was a young adult, 21, and living it up in college every other night, but he said the relationship he had with her parents wouldn't help. She was disgusted with the words and repeated them in her head every other day. "flattered but," "flattered but," "flattered but,"

She wouldn't give up though. He knew now, and for some reason, that gave her confidence. If only she could just convince him. And she would. She was young, and pretty, what more would a guy want? All she had to do was give it time. So she waited. 

Days, weeks. And sure enough, after a few more weekend cookouts with her family, she tried once more. 

"Can you pass me a Coors light," She said lightly, scaring him by the fridge. 

"Sure, " He smiled at her, then handed the can over. "I didn't think you were a beer drinker." 

"I've grown," she said simply. 

"I see," 

"Yes. We should drink together one day,"

"I don't think that's a very good idea," He pursed his lips. 

"Why not," 

"Because I am too old, it would not work out," He walked closer, "And you, sweetie, are too drunk." 

Then again, more embarrassingly, Valentine's Day.  Her one genuine attempt at moving on, with some boy in their circle. What was supposed to be a fancy dinner date, with candles and chocolate, turned into a whirl of tears as she stared at the empty seat. 

Drunk on self-pity, and a little white wine,  she found her way back to him. 

"Why don't you like me," She snapped the second the door opened. It was midnight, and he had nothing but a robe on, understandably so. She sobbed and sniffed. "I've tried, okay? I know it's weird, I could be your daughter, but listen. I've tried. So hard. Boys my age, I can't, okay? I promise if you gave me a chance I would make you happy."