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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The light peered in through my open curtains, as I clutched onto my bed sheets with clenched fingers. I was dreading waking up this morning, and going to school. But I'd made a promise to myself, last night. A promise that I would face my problems head-on today, instead of running away at first sight of them.
But then again, it was easier said than done.
I sat up in my bedspread, pushing the sheets off of my already heaving figure. I reached over for my cellphone, which was sitting idly by on my nightstand, connected to the charger. I disconnected it, swiping into my messages, searching for Rick's contact.
Pick me up for school? He responded instantly with a quick, yeah.
He'd called me once last night, after Terrance had finally dropped me back off my house, but I hadn't known that until this morning, since I'd crashed as soon as I was dropped off.
I knew that he wanted to talk about what had happened with me, since we hadn't spoken since he picked me up from the fair.
It was unusual for the two of us to go longer than a few hours without talking. But I'd gotten so swept up with Elijah, and then Terrance—that I'd forgotten about it all. But I knew that Rick wasn't too worried about that, considering he'd been getting especially close to the redhead from Terrance's party.
And I was happy for him, even if the two of them were just friends. Rick didn't date much, and he didn't make many friends, seeming as his home life happened to take up a lot of his spare time. Especially when it came to his father, and his many girlfriends.
Much younger girlfriends, not to mention.
I'd dressed quickly, tossing a cream colored sweater shirt over my shoulders, after taking a long-overdue shower. I'd chosen the same old white pair of sneakers I always wore, and ran a shaky hand through my slightly damp curls.
The sight in my mirror caused me to sigh in disappointment, seeing as my appearance looked as though it had been thrown together in a hurry. And although it had, I didn't want people to know that.
I jogged down the staircase of my home, coming face-to-face with both of my parents sitting, and having breakfast at the kitchen table. I raised an eyebrow. I had expected my mother to be at work by this time. She tended to work an earlier shift than my father.
I gripped tightly onto my backpack, hoping that neither of them knew that I'd snuck out last night, and left through my bedroom's large window.
My mother raised both eyes to mine, halting she and my fathers light conversation. "I've been waiting for you to wake up, I was getting ready to wake you—thought you were going to be late."
