Saving the Golden Boy

Saving The Golden Boy Ch. 1

 One Week Earlier

Water rolls down the window in droplets, almost as if racing to the bottom. As the storm rages on outside, rain pouring down, Dylan and I sip on hot chocolate debating what to do.

 “Life sucks,” He says.

Ignoring his gloom and doom tone, I reply, “Well, what do you want to do.”

He looks outside once more, “Hang myself. This weather sucks.”

“We could go to your house.” I suggest.

He shakes his head softly, “No, I think my parents want some alone time.”

“Well…” I take another look at the pouring rain, “Guess you better get your big boy boxers on, because we’re going to go play in the rain.”

He smirks at me and kicks off his shoes before racing me outside.

As soon as he steps outside the door, he is soaked through and through. His shirt clings to every muscle on his torso, outlining them perfectly. I force myself to look away, not wanting to admit the attraction I feel towards my best friend.

“Leila!” He shouted, intentionally mispronouncing my name. Clearly it was leigh-luh. Pronouncing it lie-luh has always gotten under my skin and he knows it!

“Yes, die-lan?”

He glares at me. “Want to go out to the barn?”

I nod my head and follow him. Through the rain I can see my barn in the distance, it’s odd, bright blue color standing out in the gray of the storm. Finally the hard rain lightens as we step into the shelter of the barn. The smell of hay fills my nose as I glance around at all of the empty stalls, my eyes finally resting on the only two occupied ones, side by side.

“Comet! How are you today?” Dylan runs to my horse and asks her, taking a brush over her coat. She whinnies slightly, showing her joy in his attention. Blaze knickers in the stall next door, displeased in his lack of attention getting, so I enter his stall with a brush in hand.

“Dylan, what exactly was your goal in coming in here? We can’t ride them.” I laugh softly as Blaze pushes his nose into my palm in search of treats.

“I just figured we could go up to our old hideout.” He says, looking up at the ceiling. Instantly I am thrown into memories of when he first moved here, the summer before third grade. Finding that room above my barn had been one of the greatest things to happen to us, and soon it became our meeting place. Every day after school, my dad would pick me up and I would dash to the barn. Later, when Dylan would get home, he would somehow always manage to escape to the barn, too, and we would remain there for hours doing our homework, playing random games that we had invented, and more often than not discussing the drama that had happened throughout the day.

I follow Dylan up and into the loft, memories still flooding my mind. So, so many things happened here. Sixth grade year, I got my first nosebleed, after Dylan fell on top of me. Seventh grade, Dylan broke the news to me that our favorite grandmother of his had cancer. Eighth grade we were discussing Dylan’s new crush on some girl, yet I realized that I had a crush on him. Ninth grade we both cried because Dylan’s grandmother had finally passed, and later in the year we made a Bucket List for high school. Sophomore year we reinvented rock, paper, scissors into gun, machete, bomb. But then, the summer in between sophomore and junior year, we stopped coming up to the secret loft so much. As if too grown to actually enjoy the small space, we evacuated it promptly and began meeting at Dylan’s house.

Which brings us back to reality: It’s almost the end of Junior year, I’m still crushing hardcore on my best friend (who happens to have a crush on yet another mystery girl!), and Dylan has steadily been growing away from me.

“Leila,” He whispered, pronouncing it correctly, “I kinda miss it up here.”

I don’t quite understand what he means, seeing as we are ‘up here’ right now, and during the summer he was the one to boycott it. He seems to see my confusion. “I miss how close we used to be when we were up here. I feel like you’re more reserved around me now…” He drifts off, not meeting my gaze.

That was before, when crushing on you was easier. I thought. “Well, I still tell you everything.” I state, ignoring the obvious that I hadn’t told him of my crush.

“You wanna go watch a movie?” Dylan asks suddenly, joyfully.

“Yes,” I say.

And that is how I find myself in Dylan’s truck, speeding in the rain to the movie theater.



<^>* Well, that chapter honestly sucked! But I needed to post something lol :) Anyways, comment please! :D I'll try to upload sooner this next time lol