When you’re 18, everything feels so huge. Tiny things are the biggest things and it all feels like it’ll last forever, every decision changes your whole life. Sometimes I don’t want things to be life-altering, I just want a normal Tuesday.
This one I hate… still blogging it though. 😉
West High-Thursday, March 25th, 2019
It was West High against Dakota Valley, one of the last games for the seniors before they all go off to college and “slam dunk their hoops and dreams” for the next four years. (I read it on a poster).
It was your classic Thursday night b-ball game in my tiny town…
…half-time was over, the girls were sitting in the front hall-way with our gym bags surrounding us. We were a huge clump of dancers with all of our stretching rollers and bands out, including Hannah’s nasty broken toe. Bleh! Hannah was talking about some Dylan O’Brien movie that just came out and we were comparing cuts and bruises on our knees from the technique classes earlier that week.
Clayton walked up and all of the girls stopped talking immediately, Olivia became flushed and only seemed to look at her feet. She’s two years younger than him and when you’re in high school, that’s a big difference. All of the girls exchanged looks with each other that clearly stated they thought he was super cute, and he noticed. They mainly like how huge he his, his hands and height. He stood there for a second enjoying the silent admiration and love all the girls had for him then said, “Hey (my name), can you help me find Meredith? I’m her ride and I want to leave.” Amber’s jaw dropped open. She had just failed at her attempt of embarrassing me for being for online school only a few minuets earlier. She’s always working to convince them that I couldn’t possible have friends or a social life, let alone have boys talk to me. She’s one of my favorite haters.
“You know her?” Amber said shocked. “Sure I do, who doesn’t?” he said smiling. Chuckles from all the girls echoed in the hallway as I casually smiled at Amber and said “Sure Clayton, let me grab my stuff.” She looked like she wanted to pull my ballet bun off my head, rip out the crystal barret, jam it in my eye, and slap me across the face with a point shoe. This is probably the high point of our story time. 😦
To clarify, the sass face I gave to Amber had nothing to do with Clayton, it was from the previous conversation. Girls can be so miserably mean. Also it’s nice when someone stands up for you. I love my friends but they’re all cowards. I say that to their face, so no gossip here.
Clayton helped me with my things, putting my backpack on his shoulder, my tennis shoes in his left hand and my phone in his right.
I’m not the boy crazy type of girl, I’m the sheltered homeschool girl; the enjoying her solitude/bookish type, probably thinking about church or my good grades. I’m having no second thoughts of walking off with some guy because I’m not very “life” smart yet. Meanwhile all of the girls are freaking out and starting rumors of us dating. Butt friends, wondering why I’m not talking nervously or blushing, and that’s because I felt nothing.
I ran down the hallway to catch up to this kid since he already started walking off with all my stuff. “I’ll see you all in class tomorrow,” I said as half the girls hugged me and left through the front doors. My half-sole turners were half-way on and I was trying to tie my team jacket around my waste as I caught up. “Sure looks like you know where you’re going when you don’t,” I said. “Thanks for helping me,” he said. “Yeah, It’s not a big deal, I think Meredith cheered for the last game, did you look in the gym?” I said slightly out of breath. “Oh, she cheers?”
It seemed like he knew nothing about Meredith which went unnoticed in the moment. “You…you’re a really beautiful dancer you know, like… you must like… work really hard, and like were born talented, you did great at half-time,” he said.
I noticed his lack of putting words together, which is funny because I’m the worst at communicating. BUT, I do however know how to line up my words before I say them out loud. I also noticed how flustered he was, he kept messing with the inside of his sweatpants pocket, unable to stop his fingers from fidgeting.
As we walked down the longest hallway ever, we started talking about random stuff. I started with some funny conversational topics that always make me laugh: Marine pollution, endangered ocean animals, what he’d do as the last man alive, turtles getting straws stuck in their nostrils… I’m sorry, some of those are important. Congratulations on planting more tress and buying a $10 plastic bracelet made from the ocean, you’re trying to make the world a better place. But, we could do better. Ending abortion and caring more about who we vote for; fixing the divorce rate in America, (nearly all of my dance friends have separated families and they’re a mess from it). Don’t get me started about public school, maybe we could hire some teachers who won’t flirt and sleep around with their students? Let’s not ask our kids what gender they are, and give them sex-ed in 4th grade. Let’s just put our garbage in the trash can like a normal person, stop running around like chickens because the summer is hot and you think the globe is exploding.
I shared all of these views of mine with him, told him why I believe in the Bible and “proved” to him that God is real. I wasn’t sure what his beliefs were or if he even had morals but I was up for the debate. Usually, I’m more soft-spoken or shy but I felt comfortable with him after I heard him speak a few times. He looked at me curiously, like his head was on a spinner and he couldn’t get his eyeballs to refocus. “You’re mind-boggling, I never knew you thought all of these things,” he said. “Well, we’ve never talked before Clayton,” I said smiling.
We walked to the doors that lead to the main gym, peeking out the little windows for Meredith. It was loud and bright in the gym but quiet and dim out in the hallway. “I don’t think she’s here, we’ve looked everywhere; I better be going before my dad calls.” I turned my head to look at him and he was already looking at me. He had these sappy expressive eyes like they were asking for… “can I kiss you?” He asked suddenly. “No,” I said even quicker. I thought if I wasn’t fast enough to deny his request he’d already be doing it, seeing that he managed to be inches away from me in a split second. He was looking down at me, still leaning closer; he just stared at my face, my mouth, or my freckles. I’m not sure what he was so fascinated with but when I spoke he didn’t listen. After what felt like a long pause of him just standing there looking at me like that, “Ummm, did you hear me?” I said. “Hmm?” He said. “No… No, I don’t want you to kiss me,” I said a little flustered but sounding sure of myself, feeling helpless and trapped in that hallway.
He was getting so close that he was making me inhale his cologne in breaths that were deeper and briefer than a few minuets prier when he was a normal distance away. It smelled like pine tress and mint; more pleasant than he was, that’s for sure. Looking down at me it seemed like his eyes changed color from silver to dark grey, It made my legs wobble and my knees about collapse; his hands were about 2x the size of mine and all I could picture was him strangling me with them. Although now I think his intentions were a little different. It was obvious that I shouldn’t have walked with him or talked to him, or ever made eye contact with him; he felt horrible to me. I knew my strength was no match for his, he could snap my wrist like a twig. The fact that I was even thinking of our strength differences tells you the situation was not good. He knew my guy friends weren’t there to protect me and he took advantage.
I’d take a step back and he’d only get closer, like it was a dance, his face looked hazed over like he was looking through me and had lost whatever functioning percentage of his brain he had. He placed his hands on my waste and each hand felt like twenty pounds. “I’m sorry…I…” Why I apologized? I’m still not sure, reflex response? I didn’t know what to do with my hands, both up against the cold concrete wall, pushing as if I were capable of knocking it over and trying to blink away the tears building up behind my eyes. My shoulder blades were starting to press against the wall and I couldn’t make out a thought with him standing so close. I couldn’t breathe and my cheeks were becoming flushed with so much anger I thought my skin would burn from the inside out. I understand the boiling blood phrase now.
I’d never stood that close to a giant before, I wanted to scream but my voice broke and all I could hear was my heavy breathing and the pounding of my heart pushing on my ribs; It changed so fast from what was a relaxed, enjoyable conversation to me terrified. I didn’t know someone could be so scary.
“You’re holding your breath. Are you nervous?” He asked smirking. “I…I’m… you’re scaring me,” I said. “Oh that’s not fear,” he said grabbing the sleeves of my team jacket with his fingers that weren’t so fidgety anymore.
“Oh! You’re seriously scared? I’m sorry,” he said noticing my eyes full of tears, or the fact that I might actually pass out from holding my breath. He took his hands off my waste and stepped back. He spoke in a voice so deep, like he just woke up, “I’ve had a crush on you since the first time we met, I just needed to know what it would be like.” “What it would be like?” I said. “To be close to you. I thought maybe… I thought maybe you might like me if I gave you the chance?” “No,” I tried to say quickly but it came out slowly. “I’m sorry, I’m captivated by you, I was just wanting you to see if you liked me too. I didn’t mean to push you against the wall, I didn’t know it would scare you. I’ll stop.” He started to walk away, “Clayton,” I said. He turned looking as if the ceiling fell on his head, “My bag.” “Oh,” he said giving it back. “You were never looking for Meredith?” I asked. “If I say no will you be mad at me?” “Not sure how I could be even more mad, but I would be.” I said. “Then yes, I was looking,” he said. He disappeared after taking his first left and I sat there in the corner trying to find a normal breathing pattern.
I got home, dad fell asleep on the couch with the front door light left on. I turned the lights and tv off and went to my room. I cried in bed that night and nobody but God heard me. I feel like an idiot. This never would have happened if Nathaniel was there, or if I had invited S to the game, (but we don’t know each other of course). I don’t need a protector, I just need to stay away from the boys I don’t know until they prove to be friends. Boys didn’t scare me before, but they do now. I probably shouldn’t follow them down a dark hallway.
It took weeks for me to pass him in a hallway and not be anxious. I still get a stomachache whenever I see him. I didn’t tell anyone other than a friend who was so positive something was wrong with me. “Why on Earth won’t you talk to me about last Thursday? Why are you so jumpy around me, like you think I’m going to hurt you?” One of the girls walked passed us and said, “Are you two talking about Clayton?” She laughed under her breath and kept walking. “I swear I’m gone for one game! What about Clayton?!” He said.
The next day Clayton had a black eye, bloody lip, and a broken wrist and nobody knew why.
Thanks for reading, I learned a lot from this one. -Elaina
Elaine Kate 