Prologue
PROLOGUE
He sat and waited. He waited by the phone. He sat there for nearly two hours, waiting for it to ring.
But much to his dismay, not a sound came from the telephone.
He felt himself doze off, as he head dropped a bit, before he quickly straightened himself up, stood up slowly from the phone and walked out of the room with slumped shoulders of disappointment and low eyes of tiredness. He walked—more like dragged himself down the stairs, careful and cautious of the creaky floorboards beneath his feet. One wrong move, could wake the whole family up. Finally, he made his way into the kitchen, turning on the stove light, before opening the cabinet, taking out a crystal cup, filling it with ice and tap water. Slowly, he shook his head before releasing a small scoff right before throwing the remaining of the cold drink back before rinsing the cup out and gently putting it into the sink.
After turning off the light, he turns to the stairs, before abruptly stopping and turning around. He wasn't sure why he cared so much in the first place...why he worried so much. In fact, he didn't give it much thought, either. He had one thing and one thing only on his mind. And with that one thing etched into his mind, without hesitation he walked out of the kitchen, through the hallway and to the living room, making his way to the coat closet. He pulled out his most prized possession—his red and yellow letterman jacket—pulling his arms through the warm yellow leather sleeves. Digging through his the pockets, he pulls out his car keys. Quietly but quickly, he unlocks the front door, silently closing and locking the door behind him before jogging down the porch and across the street to his car. He cringed at the beeping sound that his car made when he unlocked it, before jumping into his car and starting the engine. Zooming down the nine blocks, all the way to 24th and Wilsons.
He had found his destination.
Coming to a stop in front of her house, he killed the engine, and stared out of the window at the exceptionally spacious house, surrounded by grass. He had noticed that her bedroom light was still on. It made him a bit hot under the collar, as well as irritated. It wasn't like she'd fell asleep and forgotten to call him. In fact, she was wide awake, putting the finishing touches on her paper for African philosophies.
Michael was nowhere used to being the clingy one. He wasn't the one who waited up for a phone call. And now that he was, he hated it. He hated not being able to go a full 48 hours without seeing her or hearing from her. He hated that his heart would beat so hard that he was afraid it would somehow burst through his rib cage whenever she was near. He hated the fact that she was oblivious to the things that she did to him. Most of all, he hated how out of control it made him feel. Michael was used to being able to control his situations and relationships as well as the outcomes...now, that he couldn't, he didn't know what to do with himself. She was in full control of him. Whatever she thought about him, shaped him. His heart was in her hands...
And he couldn't stand one second of it.
Michael rubbed his lips together, watching, as she closed her curtain and turned off her light. Finally, He got out of his car, locking it with a loud cringeworthy beeping noise before walking around his car, and jogging across her lawn to her fire escape. He climbed up the ladder to her bedroom where he knocked on her window. Five minutes of knocking had passed before she slowly got up from her bed and walked to her closet, pulling out a metal bat. Slowly she made her way over to her window, before deeply sighing and yanking the shades back. Jumping at the sight of a frowning Michael. She sighs I'm relief with a hand across her beating chest. Slowly, the relief subsided into anger when she yanked up the window and glared at him.
"Michael!! You almost gave me a goddamn heart attack!" She scolded, "What are you doing here?? Are you crazy, you can't be here!!"
"Well, hello to you, too, beautiful." He grunts, climbing into her window, one leg at a time. She scoffed, shaking her head,
"I never said you could come in." She says.
"Why didn't you call me?" He suddenly says, turning to her with crossed arms, ignoring her previous statement.
"What?"
"What?" He mocks, "You heard me. You told me you were gonna call me—why didn't you call me?"
She rolls her eyes, "I told you that to get you to shut up but obviously that didn't work."
He was silent as he squinted at her, "God...why are you so damn mean? Huh? Why're you so mean to me?"
"Jesus Christ..."
"No, what is up with you and that ugly ass attitude??You're so mean and I really can't for the life of me understand why. What the hell crawled up your ass and laid eggs?? I'm so tired of that unnecessary ass attitude..."
"Then you can just take your happy ass home, I never asked you to be here in the first place," She states, "Speaking of which, why are you here?? You can't just show up to peoples houses unannounced like that, I should've left yo ass outside in the cold."
"I have to talk to you." Michael blurts.
"What are you talking about, now?"
He gives her a knowing look as he makes his way over to her bed. She sighs, watching him as he takes a seat on the edge on her bed, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.
"To be completely honest, the other night..." he began, "I know I told you that I done it before...that wasn't...it wasn't the truth. That was my first..."
She looked at him blankly, although she was taken back by his statement she was good at hiding it, "What?"
"Yeah, I know. I know. I should've told you....and I know it wasn't your first...rodeo. And I know that it didn't mean nothin' to you...especially..." he sighs, "Well, especially with me, because the age gap—"
"Michael..." she sighs, taking a seat beside him, "Can we please not have this conversation, again? Just try to understand, okay? I mean, yes, that's true...I don't want a relationship, right now. Michael, I'm a senior in college. You're still in high school...you're just a kid. And if I'm gonna be completely honest, this shouldn't have even happened in the first place. You have so much more maturing to do. Don't sweat it, you'll find a girl your age—"
"But, I don't want a girl my age, Eileen." He whines, "I want you. They just don't get me like you do."
"It's just infatuation, Michael, you don't really mean that..." she speaks, softly, "You're so young, you don't even know what you want yet, besides...I already told you, you're just too young for me—"
"I'm eighteen, Lena. I'm a man. And I wish you'd stop treating me like a child. I'm sick and tired of people telling me that I don't know what I want yet, if that was the case, I wouldn't even be sitting here right now...You're only four years older than me, anyways." He spoke, "Besides, I can do what any guy your age can do...if not, better."
"...Okay. Okay." She sighs as she stands up, "I see what this is..."
He raises his brows at her as she continues,
"We had sex. That's all. I'm sorry to break it to you, Michael, but, that's it. Thats all it'll ever be. Just sex. And I get that it was your first time, and maybe you thought you could get a relationship out of this or whatever. But, no. It won't happen. And I think you should move on and be with a nice girl your age. You have to move on just like I have to move on. I have too much to worry about as it is, and I'm sure as hell not adding on a immature, hormone raging, clingy teenage boyfriend to that list. I'm sorry. And I hope you can understand that this was all a mistake. I should've known better and I'm sorry for leading you into believing that this could be more than a one time thing, understand?"
He rarely heard a word she said over the brutal sound of his heart shattering. The room had gotten so quiet that Eileen almost believed that she had gone deaf for a minute and the tension had gotten so thick that you could cut right through it with a butter knife. He nodded slowly as he looked at her, silently.
"...Michael?" She spoke slowly, "You did hear me, right?"
He was silent.
"And you understand where I'm coming from?" She asks, waving her hand in front of his face, "Earth to Michael?"
His face was stone, as her words rang throughout his head. Did she really think all those things about him? Did she really think that he was just some "immature, hormone raging, clingy teenage boy"?
Although reluctant, he finally ripped his eyes from her and looked down, feeling a slight ping in his chest,
"You're a nice boy, Michael. I'm sure you'd have no problem finding a..."
The rest of her words seemed to drown out as he thought to himself. He always wanted her be his first. His first everything. First kiss, first time, first girl, first love...even from his freshman year. He'd see her walk up and down the hallways of their small high school with two of her closest friends on either side of her—Maria Rodriguez and Stacy Winfrey—laughing and joking about. Every once in a while she'd smile or wave at the awkward fourteen year old boy out of pure politeness. Little to her knowledge, it only contributed to the already dangerously large crush that he had on her from the first time he saw her. It had gotten so bad that, at the mere thought of her, he'd find himself battling a hard on in the middle of Biology class. He tried as hard as he could to suppress these feelings—he knew nothing could possibly come out of it. After all, she was a senior in high school with plans to go to one of the biggest universities in the US, meanwhile, he was a awkward freshman boy who had yet to have his first kiss. But, he wanted her. And he wanted her bad. As years went one, after Eileen Graduates. Michael no longer had the time to think about her. He had became more involved with the school. Became the captain of the track and field team, president of the student body two years running. He had even became prom king junior year. His weekends was typically plans of studying—earning him a 4.0–or partying. He was the man. Everybody admired him.
Michael, on the other hand, didn't think much of himself. Of course he had a girlfriend in the past, in fact, he had multiple, except he never let it get past a kiss and go. He was afraid to have that kind of physical relationship with anyone. That was something he held dearly. Though, he bobbed to have that kind of relationship, he could never bring himself to have it.
_____
Eileen was in town visiting her family for Christmas, running into Michael while doing some grocery shopping. Michael's mother, Katherine, had sent him to the store to grab a couple items for the Christmas Eve dinner which she had planned to host at the house, while Eileen came there to grab a couple bottles of wine for a little get together she had planned to have with a few old friends of hers.
Her eyes quickly glazed over the words on the front of the wine bottle—Red wine.
Perfect, she thought, grabbing two more bottles and putting it into her hand cart. She and her girlfriends had planned to meet up at Stacy's apartment, down a couple bottles of wine, order some pizza and complain about how much time they wished they could spend together if it wasn't for everybody's hectic schedules. They would also plan a girls trip next time everybody was in town together. She found herself wondering through the chip aisle. There wasn't very many people in this aisle, considering that everyone was shopping for actual meals. She examined the different types of chips, when a boy stepped beside her, wearing a letterman jacket with his hands stuffed into the pockets. He had also sported a pair of blue jeans, and a plain white t-shirt. He, too, was apparently looking for a bag of chips. She glanced over at him, sparing him a small smile causing him to look at her and freeze, as she grabs a bag of cheddar cheese ruffles and puts it into her hand cart, turning away from the aisle. That was until...
"Eileen...? Eileen Jefferson?" He called out. His voice was soft and silky.
She turned with furrowed brows, "I'm sorry..."
"Oh!" He said, a little ebarrassed by the fact, "My bad. Michael. You don't remember me, do you?"
"Can't say I do." She chuckles, "Did we go to school together or something, I don't...."
"Yes!" He exclaims, "I mean, yeah...riverside, right?"
"Yeah...Riverside..." she trailed, "how do I—"
"I was a freshman. You were a senior." He explains, "Which probably explains why you don't remember me much."
"...And you remember me?" She asks, slightly shocked.
"Well....of course. How could I forget? You were always smiling..." he chuckled.
She laughs, shaking her head, "Yeah, well..."
The chuckles died as they looked at one another. And all of sudden the feelings that Michael had once had for her came tumbling back onto him like a ton of bricks. His heart began to race and just like that.
He was 14 again.
"So...you, Uh...just visiting or do you still stay here?" He asks,
"Visiting, actually. I live in Arizona." She nods.
"For school?"
She nods again, "ASU."
"Nice," He nods, as she looks around him at his cart,
"So...who's cooking? You?"
He chuckles, "Hey, don't underestimate my culinary skills. I might be skinny but I sure as hell can throw down in the kitchen if need be."
She laughs, shaking her head at the boy
"No, really though." He chuckles, "My mother is cooking."
"Ah." She nods,
"Yeah..." he trails, "What about you, are you cooking?"
She shakes her head, laughing at the thought, "Me in a kitchen? That's a disaster waiting to happen."
"Oh, come on." He scoffs, "You can't be that bad."
"Oh, I am! Trust me. Can't even boil water...." she smiles. He laughs, shaking his head,
"How's the school treatin' ya? Still in the state's top five?"
He nods, "Yep. only a couple more months..."
"You're eighteen, right? A senior?"
"Correct." He answers,
"Phew. Time flew, didn't it? Makes me feel old." She chuckles, "Planning on going to college?"
"Yeah, I mean...the experience should be nice."
"It really is," She nods, "Have you already started applying?"
He nods, sighing,
"Ugh, I felt that. The process made me wanna end it all. Trust me, it's better to get it out the way now though...so when everybody else is scrambling up their applications, the only thing you'll be doing is choosing which one you want to go to." She nods.
"Hey, I heard that." He sighs, "I've already sent out four so far."
"Where do you wanna go?"
"University of California." He answers, smoothly.
"Oh, okay, I see you." She smiles, winking, unknowingly causing him to blush a bit,
"Well, I'm excited for you. Thats such a great school, I hope you like it. What's the GPA?" She quickly adds, "If you don't mind me asking,"
"Four point."
"Oh, see?? I'm not even worried about you, you got this, no doubt. This ones In the bag."
He blushed harder, laughing a bit,
"Well...it was nice meet—seeing you, again, Michael. Good luck with school and everything." She smiled,
"Thanks...nice seeing you again, too." He smiles back as she turned away from him. He watched as her hips switched away from him, strutting down the aisle and around the corner, before grabbing a bag of dill pickle lays chips and tossing it into his cart.
_____
"Michael?" She spoke, gently, sitting beside him, "Are you alright?"
He slowly looked at her. "Please..."
"I'm sorry...." she trailed.
"Please don't say that." His voice cracked, "I really like you."
The look on his face, broke her heart. She could see the tears threatening to fall from his big brown eyes as he looked at her. Gently, she grabbed his face into her hands and pulled him into a soft kiss before pulling back,
"You'll get over me, okay?"
______
Well then...💀
A/N: Not sure if I'm gonna continue this lol but let me know what y'all think so far I'm kinda 50/50...I have 30,000 other drafts that I'm tryna figure out so yeah💀💀I think OTW era is my favorite to write about, he was such a sweet little bean 🥺🥺
P.S. there is no face claim for Eileen, just imagine that she's you or whoever you want her to be. Typically the girls that I make the main characters are going to be black. I just wanted y'all to relate to this story more...
P.P.S excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes I did not proof read sweetheart ain't nobody got time fo allat 😭😭
