Vol. 1: Twenty-One

+ LOVING ELIJAH MCCAY +

VOL. 1: CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The thoughts are persistent, and loudly blare through the hallowing of my head. My fingers clutch at the sink settled into the wall before me, my breathing mildly irregular. The nerves were there. They were very much there.

I couldn't quite figure out why I was so nervous, to begin with.

I'd hung out with Elijah a handful of times. But the thought of going there, and being the only outsider, nearly tossed another body of nerves right into my nervous system. I'd be the only only person there who wasn't a high school graduate, and better yet—someone they'd never met before.

I could only hope Elijah had fed them good things about me. And although, I didn't know if I was exactly comfortable about him speaking about me when I wasn't around—that thought alone racking up another bundle of nerves.

What could he say anyway?

The shower that ran behind me, began to echo throughout the four walls of my restroom, steam riddling up against the mirror before me.

My fingers kept tightly wound against the towel that hung around my waist, and my free hand ran through my tangles of misfitted curls.

I'd been debating on whether or not I wanted to cancel, considering these nerves in the pit of my stomach just would not settle. I internally cursed myself for being so fucking nervous about something that could so smoothly.

If I simply wasn't myself.

Just as I'd made my way into my bedroom, and switched on the overhead lighting that hung from the roofing of my bedroom, my cellphone began to ring.

The ringing startled me, as I rounded my way over to the desk where it lied, usually quietly. It rang some more, and I struggled to grasp onto the name that it displayed in bright, bold letters.

Elijah.

My hands began to tremble as I pictured the boy behind the screen, and the white towel that previously sat on the waist—fell without grace.

"Shit!" I cursed aloud, bending forward to grasp the towel once more, only to realize that the ringing coming from my cellphone—had stopped. My mind continued its work at a million miles a second, and I stopped for just a moment—

Would the phone ring again?

Or would Elijah simply think that I didn't want to go anymore, because my towel fell from my hips, leaving me absolutely bare, and I had to use those mere seconds to pick it back up.

Because I could only imagine the trembling that would be in my voice, had I picked up the phone towel-less.

And then, the ringing came again.

My fingertips tingled, and I waited.

Three seconds passed, and I found myself jolting toward my cellphone, a breathy laugh escaping my lips at my own actions. I didn't mean to act so abruptly, but when I heard that same old ringtone, and saw his name appear once more—I couldn't help it.

Elijah seemed surprised, as he returned the breathy sort of laugh.

"Gage?" His voice is firm, thick—everything that makes my heart beat faster in the pit of my chest. "Gage, are you there?"

I nod, before quickly realizing that he can't see me. Which I'm eternally grateful for, after the entire towel fiasco. "Y-Yeah, I'm here. What's up?"

I don't acknowledge the fact that I accidentally ignored his first call, diving right into conversation.

He follows in suit. "Well, I was wondering when you wanted me to come get you? For tonight?"

His tone is hesitant, and I can sense that he's wondering if I've forgotten about the state fair—for a second time today.

"Um, well, I'm in the in the middle of getting ready, so I guess I should be dressed by the time you get here." He seems satisfied with the answer, and I can clearly conjure the sound of keys in the far background.

As though he's already got them in hand.

He chuckles lightly, and I let out an embarrassingly dreamy sigh. "Well, that's great," then, there's the sound of a car door shutting. "Because I'm on my way."

I hold in a breath, eyes drifting off to my full body mirror, hanging on my bedroom door. "You're on your way?"

"Yeah." The answer is quick and short, as though he's already done with this conversation.

My mind is buzzing again, because I have no idea what I'm going to wear. And I hadn't even began dressing myself yet.

I had never really been someone, who stresses about their attire, but while with Elijah—it wasn't as if I could just throw on the fist thing I saw. Which was something I always did whenever I had a date, or "hangout" session with Terrance.

But those were entirely different situations.

The call has gone silent, and I know that he's hung up on me.

After minimally calming myself down to the point where I can actually see and think clearly, I rummage throughout my closet, looking for anything that screams "young but mature".

I smile widely, when I find a a hoodie that seems just the right fit, to where you can make out my figure, but not enough to judge me. It's paired with a plain pair of jeans and a belt, and my favorite pair of white sneakers.

While tying the shoe laces, I'm faced with my appearance in my mirror, and another soft smile graces my lips.

I grab my phone, and slip it into the back pocket of my jeans, making my way down the staircase, and into the living room. It had been a total of twenty minutes, and I figured it wasn't long before Elijah showed up.

My mother was sat soundly on a sofa, a tall glass of wine sat before her on the coffee table. After remembering that I'd be leaving, she fixed herself a glass, and began to play a romantic soap opera on the family television.

Toro sat in the empty sofa, soft snores leaving his parted lips. I took the seat beside him, my fingers getting lost in his shiny fur. "So, mom," I began, "I'm getting ready to head to the fair, is there anything you need before I go?"

She turned toward me, sensing the tension radiating off of me. "You're nervous—why? Who are you going with?"

My cheeks flushed slightly, and I swallowed the bile in the back of my throat. "W-What? I'm not going with anyone—"

She raises a dark brow, green eyes twinkling with a knowing sort of expression. "Are you sure? Because you're fidgeting, sweetheart."

My lips part, prepared to answer her invasive questioning. But I'm beat to the punch by a knock sounding firmly at the front door. Toro's ears perk, as do mine.

I'm quick to stand, a feeling in the pit of my stomach, that says that person at the door, is Elijah.

My mother points a finger toward me, a silent way of telling me not to move, and that she's going to answer the door. My fingers grip onto my sweatshirt with might, watching as she swings the door toward her, face brightening within seconds.

She takes a step back, hand waving into our quiet home, as though gesturing for this person to take a step inside.

"Elijah, oh my goodness, it's been so long since the last time I've seen you." Her smile is bright, and I'm surprised that she's being so welcoming. Not that I'd expect anything else.

She was never this nice to Terrance.

Elijah saunters in, with an arm reaching out to give my mother a quick hug. She returns the gesture, and winks at me while in the midst of the hug. I blush, once more in pure embarrassment.

Elijah finally looks over to me, sending a wide grin, one that he's never graced me with before. And I finally feel as though we could work toward being friends. Friends who feel comfortable enough with one another, to smile.

"It's nice to see you again, Mrs. Ciletti, it's been a while since anyone's brought homemade raisin cookies to one of my practices." He laughs casually, and my mother smiles pleasantly.

"I know, I miss those days too." Her face begins to twist into a solemn frown, and I know that she wants to ask how he's been. And how his father, and brother and sister are doing since his mother's passing.

Shaking my head furiously, I signal that asking those kinds of questions right now, is not a good idea.

She thankfully, gets the hint, and tucks a dark strand of hair behind her ear. "Okay, well you two kids get going now, don't wanna keep you from the fair." She grabs onto my arm, and gives me a soft push toward the front door, and it reminds me of when she and my father had a dinner date, and I had to practically shove her out of the door.

Although her reasoning for not wanting to leave, was consistent worry. I just didn't want to leave because I was nervous. Very, very nervous.

She could sense this.

Once Elijah's out of the door, and is making his way over to his car, I turn and engulf my mother in a hug. One that she quickly returns.

"Thank you," I whisper softly into her ear, and she begins to tighten her hold on me.

She smiles widely when we pull back, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. "You're welcome."