"Today, however can change things for better or worse. The outcome depends on you."
When a marriage fails, the residue trickles down to everyone in the family. Sixteen-year-old Daya Nicole Johnston must fight to understand what is happening in her l...
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We parked a few feet away from the playground down the street from my home. "I take it back, let's spend the whole day together," I mused. He whisked falling strands of hair out of my face.
I hummed, "Did you really mean what you said earlier... about me using you?"
He continued stroking my brown locks. "Yeah," he said composedly. "Everything happened so suddenly, I suppose. Then, came last night. I might've been projecting a bit from what I did to Celia." I shifted and turned his chin so that I could peer into his blue eyes.
"I never would've let last night happen if I didn't care for you." It felt like someone turned the heater on inside my body, and I couldn't hold our gaze any longer.
"I've never... done anything like that before," I murmured shyly.
My heartbeat quickened. "That's why I freaked out after. But then, you made me feel so comfortable and safe. Right after I left a situation I didn't feel safe in. I trust you enough to be vulnerable with you. I trust you not to brag about it or be disrespectful. Sexual things like that are important to me and I wouldn't let just anyone touch me the way you did. I know that it happened instantly, but I didn't choose to feel this way about you. But I took a chance, and I'm glad it did."
His warm lips pressed against my forehead, yet I still wouldn't look up at him. "I'm glad you did too."
He tilted his head down, trying to find my eyes. "Day," he whispered.
I looked up at him and then back to the armrest. "I'm not crying, but there is always a fifty percent chance that I am," my laugh transposed into a whine.
I closed my eyes shut as he coolly elevated my jaw up. "Yeah, I know. I care about you too."
He kissed my nose, and I giggled. Our noses touched and then our lips followed. A thoughtful, tender kiss that didn't go further than that, but held a special position in my heart.
"I should go," I grudgingly said as I confined myself in his limbs.
"You have to let go of me first," he quipped.
I bit his bottom lip, "I promise we will talk later today."
He goofily smiled at me, "You still haven't let go."
I loosened my grip on him a little bit, "You might have to push me out of the truck."
He shook both of my shoulders, and I leaned back against the car window, "Okay!"
I grabbed the handle when he said, "Diya, I'm going to need my jacket back."
I instantaneously turned back around, "How could she mispronounce my name? It's spelled Daya. The first three letters are D-A-Y! My nickname is Day not Die!"
