lanakent

Kissing him in school was always thrilling, slightly terrifying, and utterly delicious but this was pushing things a bit. How she had ended up laying across the art table staring up at his mischievous, borderline delinquent smile was beyond her, but that was nothing unusual. She had absolutely no sense in her head when it came to him. Their friends were loud against the backdrop of their moment, running around the room filled with sugar and caffeine and the giddy frenetic energy of a Friday afternoon in art club. Their teacher was no where to be found at the moment, likely the poor man had stepped out to run to the restroom for a brief moment

The only redeeming quality about this morning would be if he had made his bus and was waiting for her in the crowded cafeteria. She had missed the bus having failed to wake up on time barely able to face another luke-warm shower, freezing and throughly irritated because she'd made her mother late for work as well. By the time she'd rushed out of the car she had a pounding headache and a pit of dread in her stomach as she thought of the math test she had later that she was certain to fail. Dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and tight jeans she'd pulled hot out of the dryer burning herself with the metal button, the tops of her slim legs just visibl

The car pulled up, full of hot spring sunshine and the anticipation you can only get from being 14, approaching a party full of all your best friends, and spotting your gorgeous new friend goofing off on the front lawn, wearing your favorite t-shirt. It was a soft light green cotton shirt with the seven up logo splashed across from one shoulder to the next, his chest still thin but with the promise that the next few years would turn it broad and strong. He spun in circles with his arms flung out as of embracing the day itself, his gorgeous face tipped back toward the sun, smile wide, laughing with abandon. She drank him in with her eyes

Some time later when exhaustion had crowded her already overwrought brain, when she felt utterly depleted and so emotionally far beyond the physical years that had past her by since she’d stood in that drive way, her emotions raw, on the edge of a precipice, she awoke vividly from a dream. The ghost of it chased her into consciousness and lingered as real as any flesh and blood counterpart, the image of the boy who remained immovably in her heart still visible in her minds eye, unable to be erased, faded, or diminished. Attempting to take deep steadying breaths she found the tears she had cried so ceaselessly in her dream had been real