Caught up with the Bad Boy {COMPLETE!}

Greyson's Letter

I would start this with Dear Skyler, but honestly just writing your names makes me break everything in my room. So I'll just skip over the niceties.

Did you know that when I was thirteen I told your dad my biggest secret?

We were sitting in your garage and he was teaching me how to fix the engine to the old blue mustang. I was wearing the Red Sox hat and I was so consumed by the effortlessness your dad had as he twirled the wrench between his fingers.

It was in that moment I knew that I wanted to know everything there was to know about cars. The way they worked, the way they were made, how they can be so dangerous but at the same time protect us.

He had handed me the wrench and told me to twist the - you know what. I know how much you hate car talk so I'm not even going to go into it.

The point is, it was that day that I told him what I've been hiding for years.

You know what he said - his eyes lighted up and a smile so wide wrinkles were starting to form - he said, "that's a wonderful secret, Greyson. I hope that one day I hope to see you achieve it."

I could tell you what the secret is, but what would be the fun in that?

I'm sure you're rolling your eyes now, completely angry that I even started off that story without telling you the punch line.

But what's a Bad Boy without mystery?

Bad Boy...seriously?

I can't believe that I'm using that now. I guess once you get that label put on you once, it starts to snowball into something huge.

First it starts with the girls, then you start acting like you're hot shit, and then next thing you know. You're a complete asshole that is surrounded by mystery.

But let me tell you a secret.

I'm not a Bad Boy.

Bad Boy's are supposed to be cold, hard, and determined to not fall in love.

I wish that was the case, I wish I could just forget how to care. But...

None of that matters anyway.

What matters is why I'm even writing this goddamn letter. It could be because I'm stuck in a room with a bunch of stick up the ass shitheads and I can't stand to hear about the annual rate at which Grand Hotels are rising. Or it could be the fact that I've done nothing but look at your number in my phone and had to force my finger away from the call button.

I wish I could see your smile right now.

But I guess at this point I don't deserve to see it. After everything I said to you, after I completely left you with nothing but...

You know what I wish I could see?

I wish I could see you in that ugly smiley face shirt again.

There's one memory that keeps circling through my brain over and over again lately.

It was when you were at my house, which at that time was a rare occasion. But Rowan was there playing video games with me and you wanted to be with your brother.

It was about two hours before I realized that you weren't behind us on the couch anymore. Rowan didn't care, he was too busy kicking my ass at Mario kart. (You were right, I'm terrible at video games.)

But me, I was completely obsessed with everything you did.

So I told Rowan that I was going to get some snacks and I went on the hunt for you.