The last day of school. Thank you, God! I’ll miss Laurel this summer, but I am so glad to be away from school. Two months of summer, here I come!
“I’ll call you as much as I can,” Laurel sniffled. “I’m going to miss you Clayre!”
Tears were streaming down my face like rivers. Laurel was my best friend; she had been since 3rd grade. She was going to be gone the whole summer; leaving me here to have to find some other way to occupy myself.
“I’ll miss you too,” I cried.
We piled her luggage into the trunk of her mother’s car and gave our goodbyes. Her mother put the key in the ignition and the car sputtered to a start. Laurel climbed in, sniffles sounding from her every breath. And the car took off.
“I love you!” she mouthed.
“I love you too!” I mouthed back.
And summer was here.
I took the long way back to the house. I still had tears to drain and what seemed like endless time to drain them. I needed time to think as well.
I couldn’t imagine my summer without Laurel. But there is a first for everything. We’ve never been apart any longer than two weeks. Those were the two weeks that Dad, Jasper(my brother), and I had spent in Nashville at the hospital when Mom died. I was truly glad she hadn’t been there for that. Mom was a mother to her as well. I would have hated for her to have had to experience watching her die.
I had a couple of other friends, but no one that I just wanted to jump at the chance to hang out with. I had been asked out on a couple of dates for Friday, but I prefer men that bathe.
So as of now my plans are down to zero.
I caught site of the house and worked to dry up the water works.
“Hey Dad,” I called from the end of the driveway. And that’s when I saw him.
He was tall and tan with shaggy bronze hair that swooped to the left, emerald green eyes, and he was beautifully sculpted.
“Hey Clayre,” he replied. “You remember Tyson? The guy that just started down at the shop?”
“Yes.”
“This is his son, Cecil.”
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you, Clayre,” he said in a velvet voice, holding his hand out.
I fought for words. Nothing was coming to my mind. I robotically took his hand and shook it. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you too,” I finally replied.
“Why don’t you show him around Clayre? I doubt watching me work on this piece of junk you call a car is any fun.”
“Umm,” I stuttered. “Ok, that sounds cool.”
“That sounds nice. You lead the way?” Cecil suggested, gesturing his hand for me to take the lead.
“Where are you from?” I asked casually. I had never been that great at small talk.
“We moved from California but I was born in Scotland.” He gave a crooked smile; the kind that girls melt over. It was heartbreakingly beauitful.
“Really? Why were your parents there?”
“My Mom is from there. My dad was there on a military base.”
“Wow,” I said, interested. “That's awesome. Where is your mom now?”
I didn’t realize how rude and prudent that sounded until after I said it. His response didn’t make me feel any better either. “She died about 3 years ago in a car accident,” he said, letting his head hang down a bit.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
“Oh, no,” he smiled. “You’re fine. It’s something we have in common.” I gave him a confused look. How did he know? “You’re dad told me,” he laughed.
“Oh, right,” I giggled, blushing. “I knew that.”
“Of course you did,” he said, giving me a sarcastic smile. A moment of silence lingered.
“Would it be rude for me to ask why you were crying earlier?” he hesitated.
Of course he would have noticed. I hadn’t had the chance to really cover it up before. I could feel that my eyes were still a tad puffy. Blood rushed to my cheeks causing me to blush.
I was never truly open with people aside from Dad, Jasper, and Laurel. But something about Cecil told me that I could talk to him, trust him. Not that I had anything to hide; especially right now.
“My best friend left to stay with her dad for the summer,” I sighed, staring off in the opposite direction, afraid that tears would betray me.
“I’m sorry,” he consoled. “It’s hard leaving or letting go of the ones you care about. I’ve had to leave every single friend I’ve ever made. Though, grant it, I haven’t had the chance to make many. Hopefully it can be different this time…”
“This time?” I asked.
“Oh, my father and I travel a lot. I’m in a new place nearly every 3 or 4 months. I love traveling, don’t get me wrong. But I would like for something to be at least semi-permanent.”
“Oh,” I retorted, disappointment faint in my voice. “Why did you guys move here then? I’m sure there are more interesting places to be…”
“You would be surprised, Clayre,” he laughed. “I’ve found Scott County to be pretty interesting so far. I’ve always wanted to come to a small town. I just didn’t know they made them this small.” He laughed and I joined. He was right of course. Scott County was extremely small and I saw no signs of growth. Ever.
“True,” I chuckled.
Cecil sighed and turned to me, unleashing the mesmerizing power of his eyes. The sun shined down just in the perfect angle to catch the depth of the emeralds that stood in for his eyes. “Honestly,” he said. “I’m hoping we’ll be here for a while. I’d like to make some new…friends.” His lips twitched into a crooked smile and he blushed slightly. He turned his head forward as if his eyes had caught something in the distance.
“That sounds like a plan,” I smiled , looking up at him. He was a good 6 inches taller than me and it felt like I really had to stretch to look at him. Not that I minded.
His eyes turned down to mine and we smiled. “It does,” he said.
We had the day ahead of us and nothing more to do than walk around the farm. Questions flew between us, conversation flying around. Some things were trivial and others were more in depth. He’d asked about my mother. I described her Latino heritage and her breathtaking beauty. How her hair would blow like black silk in the wind. I even taught him the dance she would do with me when I was little. Droplets threatened to escape my eyes at that and so he switched the subject. He asked me about hobbies, past obsessions, even my favorite color. He seemed completely content to talk about myself; it made me feel conceited though.
I finally got to question him. He had described his mother too. She had been hit by a car of college students who were on their way back from a rave and extremely intoxicated. His composure stayed the same, though. No tears. You could tell he had practiced. But you could hear the pain in his voice. We conversed about favorite songs, artists, books, movies, etc. He'd had a huge crush on Buffy the Vampire Slayer when he was 5 and used to listen to nothing but Mozart. He taught himself piano and guitar. His favorite color was blue, but the shade varied day by day. Today his was baby blue. At that, I blushed. That’s the color of my eyes.
We talked like we had known one another for years and years. It was as if we had grown up together. He was the perfect gentleman as well; constantly moving fallen branches and limbs away and pulling them back before he would go on. When we went out for lunch he pulled my chair out for me and held doors open. I laughed because we were at Burger King; it's not like it was a five start restaraunt or anything. But it was sweet and I admired him for it.
I could see myself with Cecil and liked him a lot. He was nice to look at, sure; but his personality pulled it all together. He wasn’t like the other guys I had talked to. All they knew how to do was call me hot and see when the soonest was that they could get me in bed. They never took the time to hold doors for me or pull my chairs out. And most of all, they never asked about me. They never got to know me. It was always about them. Cecil cared. He had class and respect; and something told me that he thought just as highly of me. We connected on a different level than most teenagers. He was an old soul as was I.
“It’s dark,” he laughed. “I feel like I haven’t shut up all day.”
“You haven’t talked nearly as much as I have.”
He rolled his eyes and smiled crookedly. “I’m sure it’s a tie,” he chuckled. “I should get you back to your father.”
“I suppose so,” I sighed. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to the day coming to an end.
Our feet halted to a complete stop and he turned to face me. “I hope this isn’t too forward but would you like to go out with me tomorrow night?” he asked.
My heart went into overdrive and skipped all over. His smile knocked the breath out of me. I nearly forgot my mouth; then the silence reminded me that I could speak. “That sounds really nice,” I said thoughtfully.
He took my hand and we made our way back to the front porch in silence; it wasn't awkward though.
“Is a movie at around 8 ok?” he asked.
He could take me to a land field and it would be ok. “Yes,” I responded simply.
“Ok, sounds like a date.” His lips stretched into what seemed like a triumphant smile. “Again,” he said. “I hope this isn’t too forward but would it be out of line to kiss you right now?”
My pulse picked up. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest like it was trying to escape. I could imagine his lips against mine. What he would taste like…
I couldn’t speak. I simply nodded and smiled.
He gently pulled me close to him and lifted my chin up. The moment our lips touched, all time and space ceased to exist. His lips were soft and gentle against mine. The aroma rising off of him made me dizzy; he smelled indescribable. His left hand rested just above my lower back; his right brushing my hair back and laying on my neck.
“Goodnight, Clayre,” he whispered, parting our lips. I could feel the smile in his lips as he lifted his head.
He touched his lips to mine quickly once more before getting in his car.
I remained on the porch for what seemed like an eternity.
The scent of him remained clear in my memory and I could almost still taste him. My head spun around and around. I moved, in a daze, to my room and went to bed not bothering to change or anything. I slipped under the covers and the rest became blurry.
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"Cecil! Son, can you come here for a moment, please?" my father asked, waking me from a dead, seemingly dreamless sleep.
"Coming..." I half attempted to yell back; however, the drowsiness in my eyes also coated my voice. I lethargically rose out of my bed, and put on clothing a bit more presentable than just my boxers. I stretched and yawned, took a deep breath in a failed attempt to awaken myself fully, and struggled with my balance down the stairs. Mornings just aren't my thing.
"Yeah, dad?" I responded, grabbing a box of foreign branded cereal from the cupboard.
"You got in rather late last night, son," my father began. "Not that I distrust you, or don't have an idea of what activities kept you so long, but just out of curiosity, would you care to explain?"
And the image of her face flooded my mind. I could taste her lips against mine like we had just kissed. My dreams from the night suddenly raced in my memory, and heat flashed furiously across my cheeks; I was blushing, something that rarely happens to me. I had just met her... But it felt like so much more...
Clayre... I thought to myself. Just thinking of her sent electricity through all of me, and made me smile like the idiots from those crazy cheesy chick-flicks that send girls bawling the whole journey home from the theater.
"Cecil, you there, son?" Dad was waving his hand rapidly in front of my face, snapping me back to reality.
"What were you saying, Dad?" I asked, continuing to poor the cereal that resembled Frosted Flakes. "I zoned out."
"I hadn't noticed," my father laughed sarcastically. "Your activities that kept you out so late last night?" he added.
"Oh. Yeah. That..." I stumbled out nervously.
"Yes, that."
"I lost track of time. Clayre and I went out to get a little bite to eat and just chill out and talk. Nothing too special." That last sentence was definitely a lie, complete bull.
Everything about yesterday, once Clayre arrived that is, was special. I couldn't put my finger on exactly why it was, but I couldn't stop thinking about her for even a nanosecond. Her dark hair, her smooth, tan, but somehow porcelain, complexion, her bright blue eyes, tattered converse, holy jeans, simple green t-shirt, lack of make-up, her naturalism, the way she didn't need gobs of make-up like all the other girls think they do, the way she was comfortable in her own skin, her confidence, her voice, everything seemed to have me hypnotized. There were no specifics. She didn't have just a few qualities that drew me in; all of her made me curious to know her more.
Dad had managed to slip away before my mind came back to reality. My cereal had become soggy. The nervous churning of my stomach made eating impossible anyway. I threw out the cereal, cleaned myself up to go out for the day, and rushed to my phone.
Just dialing her number sent chills down my spine, the good kind.
"Hello," she answered. I had to take a seat; her voice was kind and sweet. Not be cliche, but it put me weak at the knees.
"Clayre?" I asked just to make sure it was her; though, I was more than positive that it was.
"This is she. May I ask who's calling?"
"Uh, umm... Well, uh..." Come on Cecil! Get yourself together, man! "It's Cecil." Dumbass would be the more correct term.
"Oh, hey Cecil!" Her voice suddenly sounded eager. (Either that or wishful thinking.) "What's up?" she asked so simply. A million different answers flooded my brain, but I stuck with, "Just sitting around, trying to find something to do. And yourself?"
"Pretty much the same. I tried to crack down on some summer reading, but I couldn't get into the book," she replied.
"Are we still on for tonight?" I asked eagerly. Way to be smooth.
"I don't see why not," she laughed. "I hope this isn't too forward of me," she mocked my word-choice from the previous night, "but would it make you feel weird if we hung out before hand? Unless you have other plans or something like that."
"Oh, no, no," I answered. There was a brief, awkward pause. "I mean, no I don't have anything else planned.. Or something... Like that. I was actually calling to ask you that."
"Great!" she sounded thrilled. "Give me like 30 minutes to make myself decent, and I'll see you at my front door." Click.
It felt like forever since we'd last seen each other. I waited anxiously for the minutes to pass by. She lived barely a mile away; I could walk to her house if I wanted to.
Twenty-seven minutes had passed, and I assumed it was safe to venture over now. My heart turned violently inside of my chest as I walked up the steps and rang the doorbell. The door opened, and there she stood in all of her simple glory. Her eyes glistened in the sunlight. She sported her tattered converse once again, a pare of cutoff shorts, and a slightly worn out Nirvana band t-shirt. Her beauty, though, made her look like she was ready for prom.
My breath caught for a second. I couldn't remember how to use my lungs. I assume she noticed my lack of control and decided to break the ice.
"Hey Cecil," she greeted me with a soft, kind, charming voice. She filled in the gap between us with just a few steps, and I wasn't expecting it, but didn't protest when she...
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He filled in the gap between us with just a few steps, and I wasn't expecting it, but didn't protest when gently lifted my chin up so that our gazes could meet. Less than a second later, our lips were moving in syncronization. Every nerve in my body felt as though it was bursting with electricity. His lips were soft, but eager, against mine. There was no way to explain it, but it felt like ages had passed since we had seen each other. Nothing in my past could compare to the way I felt in this moment.
"Hello to you, as well," he said in a honey smooth voice just after gently ending the kiss. His bright green eyes were lit up with excitement, but his expression remained calm and collected. I wondered to myself if I was able to keep the same coolness as he did. He held my gaze for an immesurable amount of time; forever could have passed for all I was aware of. I reached up on my tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the cheek and then stepped back, letting go of every bit of him except for his hand.
"Do we have something planned for the day or are we just winging it?" I asked, euphoria nearly audible in my voice.
"If you don't have something planned, then I guess we're just gonna wing it," he laughed, that crooked smile threatening to turn me into jello.
Inspiration hit me then, and I knew exactly what we were going to do. "I have an idea," I said.
Without letting go of his hand, I bolted off to my truck. "You drive a truck?" he asked, shocked.
"Sometimes," I replied, "It depends on where I'm going. We'll need it today, though." I flashed a quick smile in his direction and told him not to worry. "When you're raised in Tennessee," I laughed, "You learn to drive a four wheel drive F-150 before you learn to walk." He laughed nervously and took his seat in the passenger's side. I turned the key in the ignition and revved the engine. "Just sit back, and enjoy the ride," I said, in a final attempt to comfort him.
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"Clayre," I said, my voice trembling as I jolted up and down as she drove over the rocky mountain road. "Where exactly are we going?"
"I'm not sure..." she replied, smiling. "Cecil, I know these mountains almost better than I know myself. I just thought you might enjoy the view. we can turn ar--" I cut her off. "Don't be ridiculous, Clayre," I said. "It's all beautiful. I've been almost all over the world, and still I have never seen something so beautiful." She assumed I was speaking of the mountains.
Clayre looked at me; her eyes made it clear she worried I wasn't enjoying myself. The nausea, bumpiness of the ride, and extreme fear of heights put aside, I was having loads of fun.
I couldn't help but think that I wouldn't feel the same without Clayre here, though. "Honestly, I really am having a lovely time. Just keep driving." I gave her an honest smile, which was reciprocated, and she continued to practically man-handle the mountains.
"I remember my mother bringing me up here all the time when I was little," she remanisced. "Even after what seemed like thousands of times of her bringing me up into these mountains, I never got used to them. These are our mountains. Mine and my mom's, I mean. This is our home. Everything is here..." She drifted off and glanced at me for a moment then placed her eyes back on the road. "Clayre..." but I didn't know what to say. My mother and I had never shared anything like that. How could we? We moved at least 6 times a year.
And at that, I frowned and averted my eyes towards the beauty that existed beyond the truck, the mountains.
They were so pure, so innocent. They turned different shades of blue and purple as they extended beyond the horizon; the shades of blue and purple morfed into shades of orange and red as the tops of them rolled closer towards us. Nothing else existed up here. Man, God, and nature, that was absolutely it.
The sudden hault of the truck pulled me away from my revere. I looked over to see one tear streaming down Clayre's face. Unaware of my notice, she quickly swiped one hand under her eyes to obliviate the droplet. I came close to asking what was wrong, but the tombstone 10 feet to the left answered my question.
Clayre then stopped trying to hide her grief from me. "I'm sorry Cecil," she attempted to control her shaky voice. "I thought... I tho... I thought I could handle this. I just wanted you too see this place. But not this... Not right now."
I didn't have time to say anything before she took the keys out of the ignition and flung open the driver's side door and hopped out, the door closing with a slam.
I don't know what got me up first, the fact that I desperately wanted to do something, anything, to comfort her, or the fact that I felt my heart drop as low as it could when she collapsed to her knees on her mother's grave.
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I need more more more more more more more MORE CHILD!!!!!!! that was a great warm fuzzy story! <3 <3
