flashback

f o u r t e e n 2

The next day, 5:00

“Seriously?” Ceon said, through the bathroom door as I pulled on my plain white Hanes tee shirt. Baseball game, I thought. Gotta go casual. I pulled on a pair of medium blue skinny ankle jeans. “Seriously?” he repeated. “A baseball game? I think we have other things to worry about rather than to run around with Theodore.” I cringed. The way he said his name—so bitter and hateful. “Ceon, it’s only going to be a couple hours long. We’ll be back in Studebaker even before the sun’s fully down, okay?” I heard him sigh. “Fine,” he said. I pulled on my white, shining clean converses that I had scrubbed a few hours before with bleach I found under the sink in the library. The sun had dried them out perfectly. They were spotless. I pulled my hair into a high curly ponytail and pulled over a white fitted snapback. Precious. I slipped a few twenties in my back pocket and my phone in the other.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Ceon stared at me and bit his lip. “Can we go for a walk?” he asked me softly, his eyes wide and hopeful. I glanced down at my watch and shrugged. “As long as we get back before—’’

“Yeah, I know,” Ceon said, the softness in his eyes gone. He puffed out his chest and gave me a hard look. He was so damn proud. “I saw a park on the way here, a 10 minute walk from here.” I nodded and we walked out together.

Ceon shuffled his feet on glass and pebbles on the sidewalks. We walked in silence, until he burst out, “I—I want to say thank you.”

“Oh, that’s okay, it really is nothing.”

“No,” he looked at me, his eyes full of passion. “It isn’t. You have no idea how much this means to me. You have no idea what you mean to me.” He swallowed. “That day, the first day, I was a jerk. I mean, I was on days after that, but—’’

“It’s alright.”

“I’m not done, Danyelle.”

“Okay.”

We looked around in silence at the deserted park around us. An empty swing creaked a few yards away. Ceon went on.

“I’m sorry for that, the way I acted. But I didn’t come to ask you that. I came to ask…I thought,” his voice caught and he had to try again. “I thought that maybe you…I don’t know. I thought you liked me, Danyelle. And now, you’re going out with Theodore and dressing like this,” he gestured to my clothes, “And just. I thought that it was us, not, you and him.” He looked at his sneakers.

            I saw Ceon for who he really was, then, not the boy who he tried to be, puffed up and strong, but a kid my age. One who was scared, and lonely, and tired, and who had been through way too many problems. And I didn’t know what to say to the real Ceon. I argued with the Ceon he tried to be, but he had just showed himself to me in a desperate try to, claim my heart, but he…he couldn’t get it. Teddy enamored me, by the way he laughed and spoke, and how inquisitive he was, the way he was transparent and clueless in the way boys had. And I wasn’t going to be any more dishonest than I already had been to people I cared about. I opened my mouth to answer him, but he leaned toward me, and I turned my head. Everything was happening too fast, too fast.

His lips landed on my cheek. He pulled away, his face red, his eyes red, his eyes hurt. I tried to speak, I swear I tried, but I couldn’t find the words, and once again stood in front of an Usher boy like a dumb ass drip. I was a dumb ass drip.

“I guess that’s your answer then,” he said bitterly. I found my voice.

“Ceon, wait.”

“For what?” he asked, his voice barely below a shout. “More rejection?” He stared at me, his eyes angry and his face despondent.