𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

[𝟓] 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

"Did you just choo-choo-train me?" I raise a brow at her. I don't swallow the ice cream yet. It's almost unusually cold. I haven't had ice cream in ages, and I certainly don't recall it being so piercingly cold against my teeth.

"Maybe." Ray shrugs, her hand meeting my shoulder with a slap as she pats it, walking past me and into the living room. "Serve me some." She calls.

I incoherently agree. The ice cream has started to melt in my mouth and it's not exactly pleasant. I can't spit it into the sink, Ray has a clear view of the kitchen from where she's sat on the couch so I hurry up the stairs, into my bathroom.

Spitting the ice cream into the sink, I wipe my mouth with a hand towel. I hurry down the stairs and serve her some ice cream.

"You're not having any?" She eyes me for a moment before turning back to the TV. Our favorite show is on.

"No. I'm..."

You've used that one before, Gracie.

"I'm having lunch with... a friend," I tell her, nodding as if trying to convince myself of my own lie. I didn't like lying but in the last year or so, I'd been doing a lot of it.

"Oooh," She drags out, smirking at me. "you mean, Sam?"

She suggestively says his name and I roll my eyes. "Yes," I lie again. "me and him are going to... study."

"Oh my gosh, don't tell me you're having sex." She gasps lightly, I expect her to look disgusting but instead she looks ecstatic.

Ew.

"Yeah, Ray-Ray. Me and Sam are-" I start sarcastically. "-NO! We are not rubbing uglies, now stop it, you'll make me vomit."

"You're no fun." She grumbles, slumping back in her seat.

Dear God.

🌊

I'm in my room folding my clothes when I start thinking about all of the things I used to do with my friends. Yeah, folding time is thinking time.

But seriously, I used to do all sorts of things with my friends during spring break, and just every time we hung out, actually. So what's stopping me from doing so right now? Why aren't I down at the pier with my best friends?

This thing I have going on shouldn't stop me from having fun or living my life, so why am I letting it?

I don't have a swimsuit body, I have a thirteen-year-old boy's body. But who said anything about a swimsuit? I don't even know how to swim.

Don't even say anything about it, I just never learned. Mom never learned either, that's how she met dad, actually.

They were both on vacation in the same area, mom and dad were at the old swimming hole when one of her friends pushed her in. Dad was on the other side of the said swimming hole and jumped in after mom, saving her. Their love story is long and quite... lovely.

As it should be, it is a love story, after all. I want a story too. And I'm not going to get that if I keep locking myself away.

Locking myself away, I think to myself. And I repeat that to myself as I stand from my spot on the floor. Locking myself away, locking myself away.

I rip a piece of paper out of my journal and pull out my desk chair, taking a seat. Grabbing a pen, I write down everything that I want to do by the end of this month. As the year goes on, I plan to add to the list. But first, I want to make it through the month. Everything's an experience, right? So I'm gonna make the most of it.