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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Daylight peeks through my curtains, my eyes fluttering open, then closed. It feels off, but perfect all at once. I reach a hand up, pushing a piece of hair out of my eyesight. My shoulders are tense from the slumber I've just been woken up from. Sitting up, I look down at my attire, that consists of a large t-shirt that definitely doesn't belong to me.
My cellphone tells me that it's almost five in the morning, but a feeling in my bones tell me something else. Like everything I'm feeling isn't at all real. And that I'm not as present as I think I am.
The sound of a shower running is interrupting my overworking thoughts, as I hold the comforter before me, up to my chest. Just as my restrooms door open, I brace for whoever could be emerging from the foggy room.
My heart makes a sharp divot in my chest, as Elijah stalks out of the restroom. One of my plain, white towels hang lowly on his waist, as he moves as though he's done this a hundred times.
Every confusing thought that I'd been previously feeling, seems to float away almost instantly. Elijah's eyes look over toward me, as his lips lift into a familiar smile. He doesn't seem to mind that he's just come from inside of my restroom, in one of my towels.
My lips are parted dreamily, as my eyes wander down and over his upper body. I don't mean to stare, and this mere thought has me looking back down at my lap in embarrassment.
But I'm staggeringly surprised when he begins to make his way over toward me, his legs making long, languid steps. My legs clench together in hesitation, heartbeat beginning an unsteady beat. He leans over me, a silver necklace dangling just in front of my face.
I pause, letting our breaths morph into one. He's leaning over the edge of my bed, fists pressing into the bed on either side of my waist. I wait for him to something—anything for that matter.
He seems to notice just shocked and awkward I'm feeling, and leaning back a few inches, almost returning to his full height. "Is everything alright?"
I'm not sure how to answer, as my head feels as though it's fogging more and more by the second. I let out a shy laugh, "yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just wondering what you're doing here—not that I don't want you here." My fingers clench together as I wait for a response, watching as his eyebrows raise in question.
"What do you mean, what am I doing here? You don't remember last night?" It all feels so real, yet so fake all at once. I don't know what to think. But when he says this, I rack my brain for what we could've been doing the night before. And I'm angry with my myself when I come up blank.
"N-No," I whisper, just as he's invading my space, again. "I'm sorry, I don't remember."
Elijah leans in, his lips leaving the smallest of kisses on my forehead, my insides beginning to practically melt. I felt as though my entire nervous system was going to erupt—I'd never been so attracted to someone.
