One thing I learned when I was thirteen is that relationships are hard, but life is harder.
Relationships start out as a fairy tale; cute summer activities, thinking your partner is the best person in the world, holding hands, all that fun stuff. Until the other person gets bored.
My scenario doesn't seem bad for a relationship, but I really liked the guy. I almost loved him during one of the hardest times of my life.
We met during the summer of eighth grade when my parents went to Florida on their fiftieth anniversary, and I was stuck staying with my cousins who lived in the busy city of Toronto. They were by far my favourite relatives, but I wasn't happy about how my parents got to go Disneyland, while I was trapped in an overpopulated city that smelt of hotdogs and pollution.
One day, my cousin Jennifer, and I were heading towards a local Starbucks to get some iced drinks when a group of guys called her over.
They looked around her age-which was fourteen- all wearing surfer shorts and muscle tees. I was confused at first as to why they were wearing swim shorts when there was not a beach in sight, but I didn't mention it to Jen, who at the time was also wearing short shorts and a bikini looking top that she called a crop top.
One of the guys with black hair and dark brown eyes walked up to her and gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Jen smiled flirtatiously up at him, and the guy winked back at her.
I was guessing this was the boyfriend she mentioned earlier- the one with the strong sexy arms and teddy bear brown eyes.
I could agree with the eyes, but with the arms.... Not so much.
He again kissed her on the lips, and I thought I saw a clump of drool in the mix and thought it was gross, but she seemed to enjoy it.
I looked away, grossed out, but they stopped as the group of guys came over and started a conversation with the guy about the latest soccer game. I stayed out of it, not knowing much about the sport until one of the guys noticed my presence.
He looked younger, more my age. His blond hair was messy, and his bright blue eyes looked like the ocean that I saw on my mother's pamphlets that were spread across our house. He looked over at me, and for a second I thought I saw him checking me out, but he was probably noticing how I haven't been eating healthy over the break and might've gained a couple pounds.
I blushed and looked away from him. Great job Lav, now he thinks you're shy.
I smiled, but I guess he didn't notice.
"Hey Jen," he nodded in my direction, "who's this."
Jen looked away from her lover and pulled me into a side hug, and the rest of the guys chuckled at her weight being transferred onto me, causing me to slouch down.
"This my friend," she paused dramatically, flipping her short hair, "is Lavender Gray."
And that's where it all started.
I soon found out his name was Michael, and after that, we started hanging out regularly.
We went skateboarding (which is actually really fun), we went on dates once in a while taking strolls downtown, and we kissed at the sunsets we watched at the top of hotels. Just like a young couple in love, like in those movies.
But soon I had to leave, for summer was over almost over. We said our goodbyes, and it was one of the hardest things I had ever done at the time.
But I couldn't really go home.
My Aunt got a call from the local police station the morning I was supposed to be leaving, saying my parents had not returned home, and they were still somewhere in Florida.
Somewhere deep in the Atlantic ocean.
Their car had been pushed over on a highway during a car accident, and the railings weren't strong enough to hold their car, along with a truck up.
Obviously, I was heartbroken.
It had been the worst thing ever to happen in my life, and when I called to ask Michael if he would come over to talk and hopefully make me smile, he broke up with me right over the phone when I was still crying from the news about my parents.
So that's how I ended up sitting on the front steps of the local library, crying my heart out like a loner, the rain my only friend at the moment.
It was a rainy day, and my mother's old 1970's pink dress that I found when we had gone home to get my stuff, was sagging limply against my legs like a big, sad blob of nothing.
Very few people were out at this time, so it surprised me when a black car drove down the street, it's headlights shining in the dark sky.
My phone beeped in my pocket, another text from Jen, but when I reached to reply the car drove over the rose bushes, and parked right in front of the steps. It would have been logical to run or scream, but I was so numb I couldn't even move my right pinky toe.
A man in a black suit came out, but I didn't care, I couldn't move. I was frozen in shock, sadness, and fear.
He carried me into the car, but I was too weak to fight.
And I definitely didn't care when I started to see black, and all I could think about was how my life had been messed up all because of one stupid driver.
One stupid accident changed my life forever.
