Loving Apollo - Oh You've got to be kidding me!

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        “Good morning Mrs. Kingsley.” Cal said politely to my mother as he pulled up a chair next to mine.

        My mother rolled her eyes dramatically. “How many times have I told you Cal to call me Gina? Mrs. Kingsley makes me sound old.”

        He just chuckled. We ate breakfast in silence, a few laughter and jokes from mother about how she would totally snatch him from me if she was just about our age, but other than that, it was a comfortable silence.

        Cal’s my ride to and from school, with his red Maserati; everybody just wants to be in my place. Sorry girls, and some guys, I own him.

        Once we were in school grounds, I was bickering to myself whether I’d tell him my dream or not. It won’t harm when I tell him I thought it was a dream right? If it was real, he’d never know I was lying about my innocence. It’s not such a big harm.

        So I started like this: “Hey, I had this really weird dream last night.”

        “Oh yeah?” He said as he turned to me. “What did you dream about?”

        I studied his reaction—which was a little close to nothing—before continuing. “We were in the clearing where we usually hang out and have picnic and you told me something I took with um… a little amount of shock… okay, humongous amount.”

        He chuckled but didn’t offer any answer of approval or disapproval of continuing. I continued without permission anyhow.

        “You, um, you… you said you were Apollo.” I stammered, taking a measure of his reaction, of his expression, but it was always close to nothing if not a chuckle nor a smirk.

        “Apollo?”

        For some reason, his response made me breathed easily, like a big thorn had been pulled out of my heart. “I know, right? Crazy as hell.”

        And then there was a twinkle in his eye, the same one I had seen in my dream.

        He smirked. “Is it?”

        As realization started to strike me, I saw the world behind him disappearing one by one, bit by bit: the classroom door faded, the lockers vanished, and the students were gone. We were in a completely white place that extended through both ends: white in all directions. There was only him before me with that ingenious smile on his lips.

        “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!

                                                         *                *                *

        I had Trigonometry in a very jittery manner. From time to time, I would not help myself but look at Cal’s direction. I would catch him looking at me, all the time, and as I caught him, he would not avert his gaze or even feel embarrassed that he was caught staring.

        Time seemed to be slowing down. And the worst part was: Cal and I have all our classes together.

        I didn’t mean to be rude or something, but when you found out that your dream about your boyfriend being a Greek God not a dream, you’ll have a tendency to just freak out inside. Or sometimes maybe even outside.

        “Ariadne!” someone cried.

        I turned at the sound of my name and I saw Bryan, my gay best friend—well, not openly—jogged his way to me.

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