Page 13 of Crazy for this Girl

“One more,” Cal mutters, his tone dripping deeper than I’ve ever heard it before.

It’s a reminder that we might not always be like this. He’ll possibly grow up and away.

I follow his command, his arm snaking tighter around my waist as I quickly snap another shot, before forcing myself to step out of his hold and keep my back to him when I put the camera in my backpack.

My overthinking this is ludicrous; all over a boy I’ve only known for about two months.

“Laynee!” Mom calls out from down the gravel driveway. “It’s time to go, sweetheart.” She waves me down from behind her open car door, then gets inside the navy blue van.

I don’t want to go back.

I don’t want this summer to end.

“I’ll miss you, Laynee,” Cal discloses, his voice not the normal easy-going and smooth tone that it always is.

Standing, I turn to face him, only having but a minute to say goodbye to him. “I’ll miss you too.”

“Send me a copy of that picture?”

I bow my head. “Absolutely.”

“Do me and the turtle get a hug?” He opens his arms for me, and I immediately step in them, feeling a heaviness on my chest that just developed there within seconds.

I never thought this through.

I, of course, knew I had to go home at the end of the summer, but I didn’t think I’d already feel so empty without Cal.

He squeezes me tightly, thankfully making sure to keep the turtle out of it, and whispers, “I put a song on your iPod for the trip back. Here’s To The Night by Eve 6. Write me and tell me if you liked it.”

He breaks away from me, and I feel the sting of tears hitting the back of my eyes. “Thanks.”

“See you next summer, Tone Deaf.”

“See you next summer, Beach Boy.” Swiping up my backpack, I give him one last smile before striding to my parents’ van and leaving behind a friend that I didn’t think I’d make.

Someone who honestly and truly understood me.

Weirdo and all.

Dear Cal,

I’m going to HIGHLY disagree with you that 98 degrees is going to be a one-hit-wonder band.

Like, really? Your hatred for boy bands is getting a little too deep. I’m starting to believe you envy them and their hair.

Anyway, school is alright. Being a freshman isn’t as bad as everyone made it sound to be. I like being in a public school and wearing whatever I want, when I want.

My friend, Hannah, wants me to join the cheerleading squad with her, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. Not only is it a safety hazard, but I’m not “rah-rah” personality, if you know what I mean. I’d rather listen to music by people with talent than some made-up lyrics about beating a team I care nothing about.

Also enclosed are those pictures you wanted.

Don’t start drawing hearts with my name in the middle to make your California girlfriends jealous.

Talk to you later, Beach Boy. Your friend, with amazing musical taste.

P.S. I’m taking German so that I can go to Switzerland as I said at the cabin. You’re going to have to find a new friend for one of these summers.

Sorry.

---