The One

🔨 Chapter 12

🔨

Warning: A bit of steam here.

We walk hand in hand in the dark from my house to hers, moonlight showing us the way. I squeeze her hand a bit and she looks up at me, even in the moonlight she's beautiful.

I've finally got her back and I want to shout to the world that this amazing girl is mine again. But with my mom being sick and her stress-induced fainting, we have no choice but to be secretive for a while. 

I hope my mom will accept Prim back once she understands Prim won't hurt me again. I still haven't gotten to the why of Prim cutting me out of her life. Early on, I knew she moved to live with her aunt but I didn't know until yesterday that her dad kicked her out. Bastard. 

Every time I went over to her house he told me that Prim didn't want to see me, that she was living with her aunt and she didn't want me to contact her. He refused to give me her new cell number, e-mail, or address, claiming she asked him not to. I gave him letters to give to her, now I doubt that he did.

"Primmy?"

"Hmm?"

"Did your dad give you all the letters I wrote to you? He said you threw them away each time without reading them."

She shakes her head and her lips tighten, "No, I never got any letters, Matty. But my dad was pretty insistent that I not see you anymore so it isn't a surprise."

I frown, "Your dad didn't want you to see me?" A look of regret flashes over her face in the moonlit night.

She takes off, "I'll beat you there!" I know she's avoiding my question but watching her excitedly running across the field distracts me enough to let it go, for now. I easily catch up with her, grabbing her around the middle and tucking her under my arm. I carry her up the steps and she reaches out to touch the door before I do. 

Her laughter is worth losing for, "I won! I beat the great football running back, Matty!"

As we step inside I say, "There should be a reward for the winner, don't you think?"

Her eyes are bright, "Definitely, what did you have in mind, Mr. Stanford?"

I lock the front door behind me without removing my eyes from her. Somehow, she is now carrying my pajama pants. I keep my eyes fixed on her face. 

"It's probably easier to show you than tell you." 

She blushes just a bit as she walks backwards down the hallway to the sunroom. I reach out to take my pajama pants from her and throw them on the bed behind her. 

I reach for her shirt, "I remember earlier in the evening we had this off. May I?" She nods and lifts her arms so I pull her shirt off and throw it across the room. 

She looks gorgeous but I can see she's a bit shy. I have to remember we are starting over again not just jumping in where we left off. I pull my own shirt off and pull it over her head and kiss her cheek. 

"I've missed you wearing my clothes."

I'd worry that it was the wrong thing to say except her smile doesn't falter, "I missed wearing your clothes too. I actually still have one of your old football sweatshirts. It lost your smell after the first week. But I would wear it when I was especially missing you. It's pretty worn out." She steps to the door, "I'll be right back."

While she's in the bathroom, I change into my pajama pants and flop onto her bed. I notice a box with a pile of notebooks inside and I grab the blue one on top to look at. It's one of her sketchbooks from high school. Lots of drawings of me, several of her mom, and scenes from our life at the time. Football games, classes, decoration ideas, places in town. It's so familiar and warms my insides to see her drawings again.