Elementary School
I met him in elementary school. He was annoying then. He's still annoying to this day. That afternoon, he was swinging across the monkey bars with an impressive amount of finesse. I remember as clearly as it was yesterday: he jumped off at the end, right in front of my face and said, "Hey, Griff."
"That is not my name," I had stomped my foot defiantly. Well, as defiantly as possible for a forty pound six-year-old. In that moment, I hated Conner Price more than I ever thought possible.
"It kind of is, isn't it?" He replied to me with a smirk on his face. My southern relatives would've called it a "shit-eating" grin.
I had pulled my left foot back as far as I could, kicked him in the shin, and ran away.
I don't have a clue why my parents gave me the most un-feminine name they could have possibly thought of. "It's a family name," they said. "You'll grow to love it," they said.
***
By high school, I still hadn't grown to love my first name. So, I started asking – begging – people to call me by my middle name, Ruth. That eventually evolved to Ruthie, which most of my friends, teachers and family called me. Everyone except for him.
YOU ARE READING
The Price of Falling
RomanceConner Price and Griffin Smithey have grown up in the same town. They went to the same school. But they had completely different personalities. He was the quintessential bad boy, and she was...well, she was a planner. She needed rules and order. And...