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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I wait patiently on the sidewalk, my eyes searching for Elijah's familiar car. As the minutes go by, I wonder if he, or someone else, was playing some cruel joke on me. And if he didn't actual want to take me to have another late-night breakfast, as he called it.
But my doubts are quickly demolished, when Elijah's car pulls into my parents' driveway, his fingers gripping onto the steering wheel with might. I gulp, knowing that this means something different. I wish I didn't look at him the way I did, I wish my heart wasn't going ballistic inside of my chest as he merely sits there. Completely oblivious.
I reluctantly slide into the passenger seat, my eyes lingering on my sneakers for far too long. So long that he notices.
His car jerks backward, him hurriedly pulling out of the driveway. This makes me smile, smile at the fact that he realizes my parents wouldn't be happy with what I'm doing right now. And the fact that I'm doing it anyway.
His fingers reach for the console, turning down the music he'd been playing. "I'm surprised."
I frown, finally making direct eye contact with him. "Why?"
Did he really think I wouldn't come? Or was he disappointed? Had someone disappointed him previously, and now his expectations are inexplicably low? "Because, you—"
He interrupts himself, "you've been weird in practice all week, I was sure you'd ignore me."
And yet you asked anyway.
I clear my throat, leaning my head back again the headrest, my fingers anxiously rubbing my wrist. "Yeah, I'm sorry about this week. Just been a little awkward, I guess." I let out a short laugh, Elijah's dimples beginning to pulse through his cheeks.
As he sits still at a red light, he turns to me, green eyes shooting through my brown ones. "Today's been a pretty shitty day, and I wanted to hang out with someone. Someone who knew very little, next to nothing about me."
He seems to be trying to justify the fact that he called me—of all people, to hang out with. Especially since it's two a.m.
"Well, here I am." I laugh once more, hiding my reddening cheek inside of my sweatshirt.
Elijah begins to drive again, whispering a short, "here you are."
We don't say anything else, until he's pulled into the same diner from the first night we hung out. The same diner where I realized maybe—just maybe I still had a small thing for him. And he confronted me about it.
Elijah slips out of the driver's seat, but when I try and exit the car, Elijah's already rounded himself around it, and is pulling the door open for me. My jaw is left ajar, as he quickly backs up, hands resting inside of his pockets.
"Sorry, habit."
I slide out of the seat, walking behind him, while both of my hands rest inside of my pockets—practically mocking his every move. As we enter the restaurant, I take my time looking around, quickly realizing that we're the only customers at the moment.
A hostess, who goes by the name, Joanna, leads us to a table far in the back, and I take a deep breath, the entire scene seeming so perfect. Almost as if it were too good to be true.
As Elijah flips through the menu, my left leg is bouncing, me not being able to take the silence. My heart is beating so loudly in my own ears, that I wonder if Elijah can sense just how nervous I actually am.
The nerves hadn't been this intense last time, considering I was tipsy, and ranting about all of my personal issues.
I reach out for my menu finally, my eyes unintentionally finding Elijah's. I think I stare for a few seconds too long, because he sets his menu down, and doesn't break eye contact. I gulp, waiting for him to speak.
"So," he begins, "you know how last time we were here, you practically told me your entire life's story?"
I inwardly wince, letting out a nervous laugh, "yeah. Yeah, I do."
He smiles, looking down once he notices that I've seen it. And I frown, not wanting him to feel like he can't genuinely smile around me. "Well, I was just thinking, it was really nice. To hang out with someone."
I smile reassuringly, our hostess coming into vision again from the corner of my eye. "I get it, it's probably weird being back Wayland after a few years, right?"
He doesn't answer, us being interrupted by the girl taking our food and drink orders. "I'll take a triple cheeseburger with no pickles, and a side or onion rings. You?"
Elijah looks over to me unexpectedly, "um, I'll have the same thing, except with pickles." I thank her, as she leans in closely.
"We have a special for date nights." She smiles, "I can have an Ice Cream Sundae brought to your table, with a shared spoon?"
Elijah leans away from her, eyebrows sewn in together. "What? No, no—we aren't on a date."
My heart, for some reason, sinks down into the pit of my stomach, as I struggle to redeem my speech. "I—no, we aren't on a date."
Her eyes widen in surprise, clearing her throat instantly. "Oh my gosh, my apologies. I was wrong for assuming—"
Elijah interrupts her with a crooked smile, "it's fine, you didn't know."
My heart lurches as his kindness.
She leaves with our orders, and Elijah turns to me, another nervous laugh following. "As if that would ever happen."
