Since I had English at the end of the day, it was nice to be able to go home right after school, but today was special. I was going to Grace’s house for the first time. I would be able to meet what she calls the “perfect brother”
I met her at her locker and followed her to her car. It was a red 2011 Holden Astra. It was a decent car, and it was also a convertible, and since it was summer, we were able to roll down the windows, which helped improve my mood. We listened to Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream album while she drove to her house. I loved that album because it reminded me of my previous summer. Hanging out with all of my guy friends playing American Football was my favorite pastime. I was actually decent at Football because when I was little, my friends and I would always play it together.
When we arrived at her house, I was in shock. She was rich, and for some dumb reason, chose me over some of the other attractive men in the school. The house was three stories, and it had a lot of windows. It was really modern, and it was on top of a hill with a long, curvy driveway. She used a button in her car to open up the gate, and we drove up the driveway.
When we finally got to the top of the driveway, I saw an older boy come out of the house. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties and he had jet-black hair. He was very handsome, too.
“Is that your brother?” I asked.
“Yes. His name is Michael. Let me talk to him,” she said, getting out of the car.
Michael came up to us and asked, “Oh, is this a friend, Grace?”
“No, Michael, he’s not just a friend,” she exclaimed.
“I’m her boyfriend,” I said before anyone else could say anything.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Michael,” he said, holding out his hand to shake.
Shaking it I said, “I’m Charlie.”
We walked inside, and I was stunned. There was a giant glass chandelier, and fairly high ceilings. I could tell this was a moderately expensive house, and I was suddenly curious how much it cost, but I didn’t ask. There was two sets of staircases meeting in the center of the room, leading to the second floor. I followed her up there, assuming she was showing me her room.
I was kind of confused that I was allowed to just go up to her room because it didn’t appear that her parents were home. Would we get in trouble? I assumed they didn’t care though, because she hadn’t mentioned it at all.
When we walked into her room, I was impressed. She had a lot of boy band posters hanging up, along with a bunch of celebrities, which I assumed were her idols. She had a lot of photography on the walls as well. There was a camera sitting on her desk by her bed, and I assumed it was really expensive judging by the looks of everything else. Her bed appeared to be a queen-sized bed, and she had about ten pillows on it. And I thought I was ridiculous with only 5 pillows on my bed!
She had a bunch of mixed tapes on her shelves, which was odd, considering it was 2015. I was looking at one when another stood out to me. It was titled “Fav Songs.” I found her stereo, and surprisingly, there was a spot for mixed tapes. I put it in, and the song “Come on Eileen” came on. I asked her to dance, and we were standing there dancing for the next hour. She had a really good taste in music, for a popular, rich girl.
After two hours had passed, I collapsed on her bed. I was so tired. It was a lot of work dancing your heart out for two hours. Then “A Thousand Years” came on, and I could feel the atmosphere of the room change from up-beat to slow and steady. We looked at each other, and I could feel my heart starting to pound. I was nervous. I had never kissed anyone. Second thoughts were emerging and I was worried she was going to kiss me. I wasn’t ready for that.
She came closer to me, looking into my eyes. I could feel the tension building, and I began to sweat. She started to lean in to kiss me, but I pulled away.
“What’s wrong, Charlie?” she asked, sounding hurt.
“I’m not ready. I’m sorry, I have to go,” I said, getting up to leave.
“Wait!” she called, but I kept going.
I called my mom, and she was there in a few minutes. I waited outside, not wanting to talk to Grace. She didn’t come out anyway. She was probably crying and feeling hurt, but what was I supposed to do? I wasn’t ready. She needs to understand that. We still hadn’t talked about our previous argument about how I wouldn’t talk about who I thought liked me, so I could feel that shit was really starting to pile up. I didn’t know what to do.
