Gage Cilleti has just begun his junior year of high school, and is becoming more and more involved in his school's activities, considering he'd been playing baseball since he was just seven-years-old.
Elijah McCay has just dropped out of school, du...
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The day has ended slowly, with Rick and I whispering secrets across the classroom in our sixth period. We haven't spoken on the Elijah topic, which brings me sovereignty. Considering, I was preparing for him to grill me on whether or not my feelings had resurfaced.
But God knew I'd be far too embarrassed to admit out loud, and so did Rick.
I'd been debating on whether or not I wanted to attend the afternoon practice, my limbs feeling like they were bound to fall off due to exhaustion. And during gym, I refused to participate, my P.E. teacher writing me a pink slip that I'd have to hand into Abba.
After finally deciding, I sling my backpack over my left shoulder, and make my way toward the exit. Rick follows, "you're skipping practice?"
With a shrug, I punch in my code into locker and pull it open, reaching inside for my watch that I'd left in there, hours before. "Yeah, not feeling like running drills for the next hour and a half, you?"
Rick shook his head, leaning against the locker beside mine, "no, I've gotta go. My dad's been on my ass about keeping up attendance."
A chuckle left my lips, my hand reaching up to push a few curls above my forehead. "You guys having issues again? I thought you were cool after the whole Rachel situation?"
Rick and his father had always had difficulties. Whether that was because of Rick's personal decisions or actions, or because of Samuel, Rick's fathers many wives. His father had a tendency to hop from relationship to relationship, which Rick was not afraid to share his dislike.
The cycle had started around fourteen-years-ago, when Rick had lost his mother, Judith, in a car accident, to which Rick still couldn't speak on without crying.
And baseball seemed to have been a distraction—which I could completely understand. "I don't know what his deal is. Not even two months ago, Farrah was leaving our house, screaming about how she hated him—and now, he's taking this girl Rachel on his boat, while I eat dinner alone."
I take a step closer, shutting my locker behind me. "I'll come over tonight, and we can play video games and eat pizza like when we were little, okay? Just leave the door unlocked and I'll slip in when my parents fall asleep."
Rick nodded happily, his teeth pulling at his bottom lip to dull the smiling. "Yeah, man—sounds cool."
We part ways, me turning to walk out onto the main courtyard, ready to begin the short walk home. Just then, my watch begins to fizz, the time not matching the time on my cellphone.
I pause, my eyebrows sewing in together in pure confusion, as I begin to tune it on the left side. The watch was a gift from my grandmother who still resides in Tel-Aviv, who I only see about once a year.
