+ LOVING ELIJAH MCCAY +
VOL. 1: CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

     My parents don't ask too many questions about the night before, simply assuming that I made it home before curfew, and let myself into the house. Which I did, but the story wasn't as black and white as it sounded. I'd spent the entire night clutching onto my favorite stuffed animal, wanting to feel some sort of comfort I knew wasn't available anywhere else.

I'd woken up before my alarm, and quietly thanked God that it was Saturday. After giving my phone a suspicious sort of look, I shut it off before anyone could get a hold on me.

After Elijah's promise of the fact that we would speak on yesterday's debacle today, I didn't want to give him any chance to speak to me. I tossed the small device into the drawer of my nightstand, never sparing it another thought.

After a quick shower, I'd ran a shaky hand through my curls, conjuring up an explanation on how the night ended, in order to feed it to parents.

But when I finally descended down the staircase, I realized that my mother was gone—most likely working, and my father was watching a movie on the big screen. I could hardly catch what the actors were saying, as the movie was made in Israel.

Although, my father seemed to enjoy it.

He smiled once realizing I was finally awake, and patted the spot beside him. "Good morning. How did you sleep?"

I shrugged, pulling my knees into my chest, after sliding onto the couch beside him. "I slept okay. Has mom gone to work already?"

I nodded, taking a small look around, and realizing that Toro was also gone. "And Toro?"

My father was slightly distracted by the tv, speaking to me softly, while his eyes never strayed from the action happening on the screen. "Zara came to pick him up for another one of their walks, she's sweet, isn't she?"

I nodded, and relaxed my posture a bit more. Zara is a distant cousin of mine, who recently moved from Romania, to here. She's lives in Springfield, but comes to visit from time-to-time. She and Toro have some sort of special bond, since she has a golden retriever of her own.

Sometimes, whenever she has time, she comes to pick him up, and they go on long walks with one another.

I'd only met her a handful of times, but she seemed alright.

My father looked over to me once more, as though sensing the sadness that was pouring out from inside of my heart. Yesterday had been an emotional rollercoaster. It was as though one second, I was on cloud nine, hanging out with Elijah.

And then the next, I couldn't stop crying in the men's restroom.

It was all very hazy and saddening.

He raised an eyebrow, and I seemed to be giving him multiple facial expressions at my mental recap of last night. "Is everything all right, Gage?"

I wanted to nod, I really did. But when I looked over, and my eyes found my fathers soft brown ones, everything came crashing down again. It took every ounce of me, to not cry again.

I shook my head softly. "N-No."

He grabbed the remote, pausing his movie, and turning his body toward me, giving me his undivided attention. "Is it about a boy?" He joked, and I wanted to laugh with him. But those words made me seem all the more pathetic. Like there always some guy stepping on my heart.

"It always is with me, isn't it?" I sadly replied, and he sent me a scolding sort of frown.

"Do you want to tell me about him, and what happened?" My father cocked his head a bit, as though examining me.

I refused, shaking my head. "No, I think I'll be fine."

He reached out, settling a calloused hand on my shoulder, weighing me down slightly. "Gage," he began, leaning in closely. "You don't have to keep it to yourself, okay? Whenever you want—or need to tell someone what's going on, you can come to me—or your mom."

I knew this already, and for that, I leaned in and grasped him in the tightest hug we've ever shared.

"Thank you, abba."

He nodded in the crook of my neck, running a steady hand up and down my back. "Hell, you could even talk to Toro. He's a good listener."

I laughed genuinely, for the first time since last night, and pulled away from father, making my way up the stairs again. My grip on the staircase tightened when I heard a blaring sort of ringing coming from my bedroom.

     Sighing, I pushed open my bedroom door, not wasting another moment, before pulling my nightstand drawer open and dipping into it for my cellphone. It vibrated in my hands, while I rolled my eyes at the caller ID.

     It was Elijah.

     I knew him calling me this morning would be inevitable, but I just kept on hoping it wouldn't happen, anyway. And after his persistent text messages the night before, the never-ending bile that sat at the back of my throat—never seemed to go away.

     I stared down at the device, and watched as it finally stopped ringing. I wondered if he would call again, just as he had before the fair. And when the ringing began once more—I couldn't take it any longer.

     Clicking the answer button, I shoved my cellphone against my ear. "Why are you calling me?" I asked, angrily. It was the tone that I never granted anyone.

     I wasn't one for yelling.

     He seemed surprised by my outburst. "What do you mean, why am I calling you? You disappeared last night without telling anyone where you were—"

     "I had my reasons." I seethed through closed teeth, fingers clenching tightly. Who did he think he was, calling me, and acting like he was my friend?

     He was far from it.

     "Oh, you had your reasons? Please fucking share."

     Him beginning to get angry with me, only made me angrier. "I heard you, okay?" I finally began, voice cracking under the confrontational pressure. "I heard what you and KJ were saying about me."

     Elijah didn't speak for what felt like forever. I could hear his shallow breaths piercing through the silence, and I wanted to so badly hang up. But the anticipation for what he had to say next was saying me alive. And I couldn't end the conversation without getting some answers.

     I sat down on my plush comforter, fingers clutching onto the grey blanket that I covered myself with every night.

     "I'm sorry." His words were firm, as though he meant them. But I couldn't ignore what had been said about me—and behind my back, nonetheless.

     That was all that he had to say. And that small fact broke my heart just a little more. I couldn't tell if I was overreacting, or if my feelings were justified. But I'd looked up to Elijah for so long—as someone who I wanted to be with. As someone who I wanted to befriend.

     And hearing him say that those things would never happen—tore me apart.

     Maybe that was why I was really angry. Because I knew—I knew that me and Elijah would never happen, that he would never give me a chance. But hearing it said out loud, made it all the more deal.

     And in the moment, I simply couldn't help it.

     Just I opened my mouth to speak, he continued on. "I'm sorry, Gage. For saying those things behind your back. I didn't mean to laugh at you, alright? KJ and I were just laughing and joking, and next thing I knew—the jokes were about you."

     I furrowed my brow, leaning both elbows atop of my knees, a bitter laugh leaving my already slightly parted lips. "That's all that you have to say?"

     I heard him take in a sharp breath, preparing himself to speak again. But this time, I cut him off. "Look, Elijah—I get it, okay? You don't have feelings for me, and I'm too young to be with you, anyway. But that's never been what I'm upset about.

     "It's the fact that you laughed about it with your friend. And the fact that you had the nerve to act like you were worried about me, once I left—"

     He cut me off, successfully speaking over me. "I was worried about you, Gage. You're my friend, and you disappearing like that wasn't cool."

     I scoffed, trying to will myself not to cry. "You acting like my friend, and then talking shit behind my back wasn't cool." I pulled my cellphone away from my ear, ending the call with purpose.

     Standing abruptly, I tossed it onto my bedspread, fingers dragging through my curly head of hair. I was angry with Elijah. Angry with the fact that he thought he could simply apologize, and he forgiven.

     But I was mostly angry with myself for letting him get to me this much. I wish I could forget those words, that voiced the fact that he would never see me that way—but it was a reality.

     And my mind ventured back to the one person, who in fact, did see me that way.

     I walked back over to my bedspread, taking a seat again. I reached over for my cellphone, fingers dialing the number I haven't dialed in quite a while. I held it to my ear, breathing slightly shaky.

     My stomach began to clench in discomfort when the other line was picked up, and the deep, low voice that used to bring butterflies to my stomach spoke. "Hello?" When I didn't respond, he asked once more. "Gage, are you there?"

     I squeezed both thighs together, finally willing myself to speak. "Hey, are you busy tonight?"