Love Me, Maybe.

Chapter 1

Love Me, Maybe.

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     My name is Clara Stagg. I'm one of those neighbourhood girls you grew up with - everyone has one or knows one, there's nothing all that extraordinary about me. At 20 years old, my life really isn't that exciting, especially as of late. Thankfully, I've just finished my last exam and put another year of university (and a terrible ex-boyfriend) behind me. I'm in the midst of packing up and moving back home for the summer and I couldn't be happier. I'm ready for a change.

     "I still can't believe you're in university," repeats the 'We Box' man as he throws another quick glance at me.

     I smile politely in his direction before turning away and rolling my eyes. I have a lot of things to pack so I appreciate the help but I wish he'd skip the small talk. You wouldn't believe how many times I've heard that line.

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     I've always looked young for my age and I think that's why people call me cute. I get a lot of little pet names like Hun, too. I'm more than old enough to legally drink but that doesn't mean liquor stores and bars have stopped giving me a hard time. It's not an insult, I guess, but I'm not quite old enough to appreciate the compliment. Sometimes I feel like they're rubbing it in.

     I've always been short for my age, too, which certainly doesn't help. I stand at a whopping 5 feet tall and weigh in at about 105 pounds. I'm probably on the lighter side of the scale because, to my mom's utter disappointment, I've never been the healthiest eater. Believe me, if you knew my relatives and saw how they ate you'd begin to wonder if I was adopted, that is, until you get a good look at my eyes. They're the spitting image of my mother's. I love them. Green is my favourite colour for a reason and it goes nicely with my red hair - my artificially coloured red hair. My ex-boyfriend recently "suggested" that I should go back to blond because he'd prefer it. The key word there is ex. I practically took his head off. Red is perfectly fine with me.

     In case you couldn't tell, I'm not afraid to stick up for myself. I can be very blunt and I like a good argument but sometimes it's easier to keep my opinions to myself. Most people probably think I'm shy when in reality I'm just trying to find something to say that doesn't offend them. I don't have the greatest communication skills. I'm sure I sound rude if you don't know me very well but I don't like to sugar-coat things. It doesn't help that I tend to see the worst in people either. I try to stick with the truth but like they say, sometimes the truth hurts. I won't be winning any personality contests, that's for sure. In the end, there are only a handful of people I truly care about and even less that I trust.

     Oops, I think my pessimism is showing.

     I can play nice too. I do have a bunch of close friends and a large family. These people actually get me. They're all I really need. I may not be the best shoulder to cry on but they know I'm always good for a laugh. I'm really good with dry humour. I'm pretty dependable too, I mean, I'm not always on time but I promise I'll be there.. eventually. And I keep my promises, you can count on that.

     I have a strict set of morals and keeping promises is one of the things I pride myself on. I try not to cheat and I've never stolen a thing in my life. I will admit that I've taken a few sideways glances at someone else's test in school and sometimes I'll steal extra money from the bank when we play monopoly but that's it, I swear. Straight and narrow - that's me. You probably think I've got some sort of stick up my butt but I'm just trying to be the best person I can be. You can play by the rules and still have fun.

     Okay, I'll admit it, my self-imposed lifestyle might be a little bit boring. I've never been one to take risks but that doesn't mean a girl can't dream. Daydreaming - one of my favourite hobbies. Oh, the things I'd do if I had the guts for it. I'd tell my parents that I'm not applying to med school and I'd confront the mean girl that my roommate likes to call her best friend. She is definitely not best friend material. Maybe I'd head up to the roof of my apartment building and try to figure out why I have such a silly fear of heights. I'd kiss the boy I've always liked. That perfect smile of his...

     Sigh.

     I am definitely a dreamer, not a doer. And I might be a bit of a hopeless romantic.

     Let's change the subject.

     When I say I have a large family I'm not over exaggerating. I have 4 grandparents, 20 aunts and uncles, about 30 cousins (a lot of whom are married with children) and that's just getting started. Considering the size of our family it's a miracle we're all still really close. For now though, let's just stick to the details of my immediate family. I love my parents, Larry and Eliza. My mom and I are really close but I think I'm a daddy's girl at heart. I have a younger brother, Dalton, who is 18, and an even younger sister, Tristan, who is 15. The two of them do fight sometimes but we usually get along just fine.

     My best friend, Beth, might as well be part of the family too because I've known her so long. She's everything I'm not - super friendly, sparkly, outgoing, and that's why I love her. She's my better half. I'd probably be a complete bore if she wasn't always forcing me to meet new people, dragging me to parties and getting us into crazy situations. I'm lucky to have her and Raven too, another girlfriend I probably can't live without. She is one of the nicest girls you'll ever meet, always volunteering and putting others first. She's so selfless and good that you can't help but admire her. She sounds nothing like me, but hey, that's why we're so perfect for each other. Speaking of perfect brings me to Andy. He's just like the rest. I honestly don't know anyone who doesn't like him. What a show off. Then there's Trent, Craig, Matt, and Joe. They're all dorks but I love them too. When everyone comes together we've got a really great group. There's no gossip or drama with these guys, thank gosh.

     Now back to Clara Stagg, hopeless romantic.

     There is one boy who, for as long as I can remember, has always been on the back of my mind. His name is Robby Oleksiak. Or Rob. Sometimes Robert or Ollie, but I just call him Robby. Childhood nicknames - they're hard to quit.

     Robby is my little brother's best friend.

     Shocking? I know. That's why I've been trying not to think about him.

     I've known him since he was 7, maybe 8, playing on Dalton's hockey team. That means I was 10. Yes, we are three years apart but if we're getting technical it's only two and a half years to the date. He's May 6th and I'm November 6th. I know I seem a bit defensive and that's because, even though I don't like to admit it, the age gap between us eats away at me sometimes. I'm glad the running joke with my friends is that I've always liked younger men. Other than Beth, they probably aren't aware of just how true it is but this my reality.

     I have had a never-ending crush on my brother's best friend since he was 8 and I was 10.

     This is the story of my life. A love story? Maybe.

     Gosh, I hope so.

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     "Well, little lady, I think I'm about done here. You're all ready to go," the 'We Box' man calls, dragging me out of my reverie.

     I frown slightly. You see what I mean by pet names?

     "Thanks... Mister," I finally manage to fumble out. Of course I've already forgotten his name.

     "Typical, Clara," I think to myself, sighing.

     I can't wait to get home.

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This is my first story. Ever.

Please leave comments/feedback, positive or negative. I want to know what I'm doing right, what I'm doing wrong, and how I can improve.

Thanks!

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