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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My hands are shaking. My hands are shaking, and I can't get them to stop. Rick last said he was on his way a half hour ago. And I've been hyperventilating ever since. After hearing KJ and Elijah's words, and Rick confirming he was on his way—I made a beeline for the men's restroom.
I'd thrown myself into one of the stalls, and slid down its concrete wall.
My shoulders heaved, and my chest struggled to get any ounce of air, either in or out. I clutched at my neck, trying to will myself to take the next breath.
But it simply wasn't as easy as it was only ten minutes before KJ and Elijah's cruel wording.
And as I'm struggling to take a deep breath in, I realize that I'm panicking—panicking because one of the few people I was able to trust—isn't as nice or trustworthy as I thought. Or at least, hoped.
I've slid my sweatshirt over my head, feeling as the sweat builds mildly, before it's creeping up every inch of my body.
I wonder if anyone's noticed that I'm not there, anymore. I wonder if they simply went on with their time, and are gone now. Or if they have stayed to look for me. Not that I'd expect them too.
This is what I get for stepping way out of my comfort zone.
My cellphone buzzes my pocket, and I reach back into the slot for the vibrating device. It's Rick, telling me that he can't find me, and that he hasn't seen Elijah and his friends either.
I can only assume that they've left.
I'm in the men's restroom, I send him a short message, letting him know where I've been residing for the past thirty minutes. The message is read, and only moments later, I can hear a distinctive knock on the stall.
I wait a few more seconds, not at all ready for Rick to see me in such a state. When I pull the stall's door toward me, there stands Rick, in apparent pajamas, with his keys in hand, and a worried sort of look on his face.
Pity.
He steps forward, an arm rounding around my shoulder, to clutch me toward him. The gesture makes me want to sob even harder. Even though, I've finally just gotten myself to stop.
He doesn't ask any questions, simply handing me back my sweater, which was hanging from a hook on the stall door. I slide my arms into it, and watch as he pulls the hoodie over my head, so I'm not seen crying by everyone here once we're walking out.
Rick grabs me by the arm, and we leave in absolute silence.
It's nighttime now, and the sun has completely set. There are lights surrounding us everywhere. And the fair's audience are a lot older now, unlike the children who resided earlier in the day.
And it feels like everyone is happy, except for me. And Rick, since I've apparently dragged him out of bed.
We walk out toward his truck, which is parked in a slanted kind of way, in the parking lot. And I now realize that he was in such a hurry to see if I was alright, that he hadn't even given much thought to where he'd park his truck.
I let myself into the passenger side, of and Rick doesn't waste another moment, starting the truck, and pulling out of the parking lot.
"What happened, Gage?" The question is simple, and I know that there's no way I can answer it, without beginning to cry all over again.
Shaking my head, I lean against the window. "Nothing."
He sends me a look, truck pulling into a stop at a red light. "That wasn't nothing, Gage. You were crying when we were on the phone."
I don't answer him, again, and he stops dwelling, thankfully. I don't want to shut him out, but even speaking on the events, would tear even more into my shredded heart.
I'd never felt this hurt before. I'd had hardships of course, and felt heartache over someone I loved—or liked, even. But never like this. Never the feeling of betrayal that I felt pulsing through my gut.
Elijah had acted like he wanted to get to know me, acted like we could have been friends. Only to talk about me and my feelings, like I was nothing but gum on the bottom of shoe.
I lean the back of my head onto the headrest of Rick's truck, a shy tear falling slowly as I wonder—why do I always fall for such assholes?
His truck pulls into my driveway, halting to a complete stop. I wait a moment, finally sparing Rick a look in his eyes, the vulnerability beginning to pulse through me once more.
I smile softly, trying to show him that I'll be alright. That I'd be fine, even if I were alone. "Thank you for this, Rick. I'll explain everything tomorrow, when I'm less prone to crying in the middle of my sentence." I laugh.
He laughs, too, dimples shone prominently. "Alright, man. Feel better and no more crying, okay?" As I'm sliding out of my seat, he points an accusatory finger my way, and I raise my hands in feigned surrender.
"I promise." He drives away, a hesitant look still pure in his eyes, as mine meet his in his rear view mirror. It takes me shoving a thumbs up his way, to finally kick into full gear.
My walk up the driveway, and into my house is slow, as though I'm not ready for another body of questions to meet me, once I'm on the other side of the door.
Toro, as usual, is the first to greet me—head brushing against my leg. I bend down, fingers getting lost in his dark and light patches of hair that scour all over his body.
He follows me up the staircase, and into my bedroom. While passing my parents' bedroom, I'm thankful when I don't hear any noise peaking through their door, letting me know that they're sleeping soundly for the night.
I push open my door, landing on my bed heavily, as though my sadness is a dark, heavy weight added to my body.
Because it certainly feels like it is.
Once I've finally gotten myself into a pair of comfortable clothes, discarding my shirt and shoes, I slip into bed, settling for an old horror movie for the night, that I've seen hundreds of times before.
Just as I'm drifting off, my cellphone buzzes to the right of me, and my heart begins to race at the name that is displayed.
Hey, where did you go? I can't find you.
I ignore the first message, though, allowing myself into the conversation, to alert Elijah that I'm viewing it, just not bothering to answer.
I can see that you read the message, Gage. I'm just gonna assume you've gone home the night. I can't help but roll my eyes in annoyance, wanting nothing more than shut my cellphone off for the night.
He sends one last message that has my heartbeat faltering.
