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'm not sure how to answer his question. Everything seems to stop for a moment, as I try and gather the confident to tell him that I don't see him that way. At most, I thought that maybe he would become a good friend of mine—not my boyfriend.
But as he sits there right beside me, hands practically shaking in his pockets, as he tries to calm himself, I'm at a crossroads with what I think my answer should be. The worried of being home in time for dinner, or whether or not Rick is still waiting for me in his truck—have all gone out of the window.
Spencer's Adam's apple bobs profusely, as he waits patiently for my answer. Finally, I begin to give him my jumbled response. "Spencer, you are such a nice guy—"
Realization washes over his features, as he interrupts. "No, Gage, it's alright, you don't have to—"
I'm the one who interrupts next. "I wasn't going to say no, Spencer," I began, watching as his eyes lit up and his lips spread out into a widely set grin. "I was going to say—"
Just as I was beginning to explain the fact that I'd rather us hang out as friends, Elijah is rounding a corner, his bag and cellphone in hand. His movements are so effortless, so clean. He looks up and over toward us, a unbothered look pestering his features.
It's then that the realization washes over me once more, the fact that he will never see me the way that I see him, and that he will never want more. Not like I did—not like I do.
Spencer watches me watch Elijah, his bottom lips beginning to wobble in anticipation for my answer. "Gage?"
He's catching my attention again, once he says my name, and it has me giving him my undivided attention. "I'm sorry, what was I saying?"
Spencer's leg is still bouncing continuously, fingers stuffed deeply into his coats pockets. He spares me a nervous laugh, and seems amused by my ability to be distracted so easily. "I'm not sure. You tell me."
The conversation comes back to me, and as he's sitting there, looking as uncomfortable as ever. And yet, he still manages to wait patiently. Even when Elijah only manages to walk by, and I'm in a trance. Even then—he waits.
I think that I owe him a good evening of just the two of us, getting to know one another. Because after all, he's being ever so sweet about my inability to make a decision.
Because I could feel something greater for him after the date, maybe things could change. Maybe I won't want Elijah anymore, after this.
"Yes," I start, watching as his chest deflates, and he lets out a sound of relief. "I'll go on a date with you."
Spencer shoots up from the bench, with me having to look up at him to catch his expression. His smile is as big as I've ever seen it, and I'm almost glad that I've said yes to going out with him.
Almost.
But if it weren't for my stilling bundling nerves in the pit of my stomach, that tell me that I'm still not completely over Elijah, has me feeling as guilty as ever. I want this date with Spencer to work in the way that I want it to—I want to forget that my little crush on Elijah ever even happened.
And as the days go by, it feels a little easier and easier, if I were to be honest with myself. But I guess only the would be able to tell.
Spencer and I stand before one another, as he's smiling and telling me where he's planning on taking me. He describes a nice, subtle restaurant—that is run by an Italian couple who supposedly make the best Hawaiian pizza from scratch.
Then, he goes on to ramble about the fact he himself, is Italian, and that would love to find out more about my roots, too.
I sling my backpack over my shoulder, as I watch him smile with such grace, that I almost forget about the fact that I've just agreed to something that I have absolutely no intention to delve deeper in. But who knows—maybe things will change after the date.
I just couldn't bare the thought of saying no to him, as he stood there staring at me in that longing way. A way that's oh-so familiar to me—because he's looking at me the way that I look at Elijah.
I reach into my locker for my sweatshirt, as Spencer stops his nervous rambling, turning his attention toward me. "I completely forgot to ask, but when would you like to go on this date?"
My lips press together tightly, as my fingers grip onto my sweatshirt, harshly. "Um—"
"Because I know that you're a busy guy, and I wouldn't want to stand in the way of your schedule. So, you tell me when you'd like to go, and I'll be there." His words are so kind, so sincere, that a my eyes feel as though they're going to well up.
No guy has ever been so sweet, so willing to go at such a length, just to go out with me. And that's the guy that I'm supposed to like, right? I'm supposed to have feelings for the guy who wouldn't ignore me, or say mean things about me when I'm not around.
But whenever it came to situations like this, things weren't always as black and white as they seemed.
"Spencer, you are in no way standing in the way of my busy schedule. And how about we go out to dinner Friday night? That Italian restaurant you were telling me about sounds like a good place to go, right?" My words are hanging on a hesitant edge, as I close my gym locker softly.
I just know that Rick is sitting in his truck, wondering what the hell happened to me, and why I'm taking so damn long to leave the boys locker room. If only he were here right now.
Spencer grins widely, a pair of bright and shiny dimples pulsing through his pale cheek. He's got the smallest of gaps between his teeth, and I hadn't really taken notice of it until now. But it suits him—and I find it quite cute.
He stops me from walking down the schools corridor, a hand gently reaching out to place itself on the base of my forearm. "Gage, you don't have to go out with me if you don't feel comfortable, or if you don't want to. I would never want to force you to—"
"No," I stop him almost immediately, my free hand reaching up, and landing on his bicep. It's on the thinner side, which I'm not completely surprised by, considering Spencer definitely wasn't the biggest guy around. "You and I are going to go on a beautiful date this Friday night, and we're gonna have a wonderful time, alright?"
This doesn't seem to convince him so much, as he sends me an unwavering look of uncertainty—like he isn't sure if this is something that I want. And even though I'm not sure that I was to delve into a romantic relationship with him—I am sure that I want the two of us to have a beautiful dinner, where we can get to know each other better.
I take a step forward, only slightly stepping onto my tippy-toes. My lips meet Spencer's clean, shaven cheek. They burst into a reddish color in surprise, as he visibly struggles to take another breath.
My lips are a few inches from his ear now, as he becomes stiff, fingers wrapping tightly around the straps of his backpack. "Pick me up at eight."
A/N - I hope that you guys enjoyed this chapter, and I'm so sorry about the wait :( And I hope this all makes sense lol, I'm about half asleep while writing it.
