Out Of My League (Under Revision) (Book 1)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

You can do this, Elliana.

Just one step at a time.

One

Two

Three

Four

"You do realize it's not that many stairs, right Cupcake?" Colton asked from the top of the stairwell.

"Of course, I do." I said. "I always find a way to fall most of the time."

"If I took the elevator and you took the stairs, I don't think you'd be the racing type."

"You're right." I smiled. "Because I'd probably fall down."

"Don't be so scared. I'm right here." He reassured.

"If I fall, and you're all the way up there, are you positive that I won't hit my head?" I asked.

"I'm sure." I said walking slowly.

It was a few seconds of Colton waiting before he got frustrated enough to help me. I promise you I did not do this on purpose. I'm just scared of falling down the stairs.

(A/N: True story. I barely caught myself on the rail.)

"Damn it, Elliana." He said.

He grasped my hand and pulled me up with him while getting a firm grip on my other hand in case I fell.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I'll be fine, Colton."

No, you won't.

"So next flight of stairs?" He asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Why did we even take the stairs? Can't I just take the elevator on this upcoming floor?"

"Well, what if I want to talk to you and there's people in there?" He asked.

"You never striked me as someone to care what total strangers think." I said.

"Total strangers, no. Total strangers that could potentially ruin my life, yes."

"So what'd you want to talk to me about?" I asked curiously.

He smiled, holding my hand while we walked up the corridor.

Had he not held my hand, I would have fallen.

After the news about airplane crash, it was often that I'd remember them.

I'd remember how my dad always paid more attention to me and how my mom always signed me up for these lessons, ranging from musical instruments or dance.

My dad cared and my mom cared about how people viewed her daughter being the best in many subjects.

I'd randomly break down remembering moments whether it was with my mom or dad.

I'd cry remembering when I was five years old, and my dad would randomly pick me up and twirl me around as if we were dancing.

I'd cry remembering my mom putting on dresses on me trying to make me look like a very beautiful little girl.

My dad telling me that I am his princess.

My mom when she made dinner and told me to go dance after I let my food settle.

When I was sick, my dad would be the one to make the soup while my mom would go and do whatever it is she did.

I never knew what she did.

I believe that it's the small memories that made me cry because they were everyday things and those everyday things weren't usual anymore.

I had gotten used to it when I was eleven but it all changed because as much as I wanted to deny it all, I know that airplane will not ever land in New York and that they won't ever get on another to get to Los Angeles.