It has now been a month since I started at Buy the Game and already I feel like a sales pro. I had sold more games and systems than any other employee has in its short history. If I had allowed it, Rob would have put my picture up as employee of the month.

I have become quite close to my boss; so to speak. We crack a lot of jokes; pull a lot of pranks and talk about everything; books, movies, music. It was somewhat odd at first, he seemed so together, never laughed, hardly smiled- except when I was in the room, or so Tanya says- and he always had his nose in a book. Now, he always finds reasons to carry a conversation with me.

My feelings towards him are somewhat different than they are towards Skeet. I have known Skeet since I was in second grade. He is the coolest person I know and we get along fabulously. But, talking to captain gamer, I feel almost like an adult. He values my opinion on everything, creative or otherwise. He is three and a half years my senior, but he doesn't make me feel inferior.

Try standing on a stage, surrounded by a large group of people, watching, waiting for you to speak because what you have to say is so important, so enthralling that they actually sit still and silent so they can hear your thoughts. That is what I feel like around Rob.

Hell, this guy has me listening to whiny alternative music. Not something, I keep in my repertoire, but he has a way of making things seem likable.

We usually talk about poetry or books we have either read or want to read. If I have read a book before he has a chance to, I will either recommend it, or tell him to toss it. It is a friendship made in heaven. The camaraderie between us is unexplainable. Maybe it’s the games; we have a kinship because of these devices, we understand them. We see them for what they are, works of art, products of people’s wonderfully exuberant imaginations.

Friday night is my parent’s night to go out; I agreed to baby-sit for them. I had to admit I missed the little bugger. I haven’t spent much time with him and it was obvious that he missed me too. I have raised him most of his life and it was a little unfair to disappear for any given length of time.

Rob invited me to a new poetry reading at a café on the University campus. I couldn’t go, so he offered to bring some books over and show me some of his alternative favorites. This includes Thomas Harris. He has convinced me of the incredulity of the Hannibal Lector series. I still prefer Stephen King; some Koontz books have also caught my fancy.

We are trading books tonight, after my parents agreed to let him come over and help me baby-sit.

That was a shocker. Dad letting a boy, who was not Skeet, come over while they were gone. I wondered for a split second what sort of alien crawled into his brain. I then figured both of them were glad I was hanging out with someone besides Skeet, Renee and Colin.

Renee was spending most of her time with Miles, and Skeet and Colin followed my lead and landed jobs at a family owned pizza place downtown. I haven’t seen much of them lately.

Sometimes, they wonder into the store and hang out with Rob and me, which is kind of cool. Rob treats all of us as equals; Skeet and Colin appreciate that fact greatly.

My parents were going to a birthday party for one of Mom's best friends tonight. So I fed and bathed Dillon, and then led him into the living room to watch Finding Nemo, for the two thousandth time. I gazed on as he scampered around in his bug pajamas, coming over to kiss me every other minute. I felt a twinge of guilt when he laid his pecks on my cheek. He really did miss me; his constant hugging showed me that much.

I chased him around the room, crawling across the beige rug, around the dark chocolate colored coffee table and behind the over-sized brown leather sofas. His screeching laughter made me feel less guilty about my new job.

“Hey Dill, let’s get the door, huh.” I said, when the musical chimes began ringing.

“Hey Roberto, que pasa?” I asked as I opened the large, red front door. Rob walked into the house, a set of books under his arm.

“Nada, I’m here to offer my babysitting expertise.” He smiled, still looking around the room.

“Say hi Dillon,” I commanded, gently.

“Hi buddy, I like your pajamas.” Rob held out his hand and he took it, smiling shyly.

“So, what are you all watching?” he asked, walking into the living room.

“Neemoh,” Dillon said, squirming his way out of my arms.

“I just happen to like Nemo. Can I watch too?” His childlike coaxing was completely adorable.

“Oh kay.” Dillon sure turned on the charm tonight.

I looked up at the clock above the stove, “uh oh Dill, bedtime. It’s nine o’clock.”

He shook his head in protest.

“Come on, let’s go.” I scooped him up and started for his bedroom. He was floundering around in my arms, almost making miss a step.

“Hey, do you mind if I take him to bed?” I looked at Rob, stunned.

“Be my guest; his door is the third on the left.” I snorted, doubting his abilities.

It more than surprised me when he reached out to Rob and let him carry him up to his room. Dillon was full of surprises tonight.

Rob was upstairs for what seemed like forever. Finally, he came down, smiling his very Robby smile.

“What took you so long? Were you hanging the kid out the window by his feet?”

“No, I read him a couple of books. It’s important to start them young.” He grabbed the stack of books he had left on the kitchen table and sat beside me on the loveseat.

The close proximity did nothing to me anymore. He is so familiar to me now, that my deluded fantasies of him without a shirt left my mind after two weeks. I gave up on my crush; it was overrated. He is a perfect friend; I would rather hang out with him and discuss literary masterpieces than anything else in the world.

“So, here are the four books in the Hannibal Lector series. Read them wisely,” he said, handing me the set, looking a lot like Mr. Miyagi from the Karate Kid.

“Aye Sensei,” I snorted, taking the books and adjusting my position on the couch.

“I hope you like them as much as I did. It is such a great combination of action and horror. There is no doubt in my mind that you will appreciate the raw power it holds.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes and leaned back against the sofa.

“Hey, you don’t have to stay. If you have somewhere else to go, or if you want to go to the poetry reading, by all means go.” I felt bad he was spending his Friday night stuck here babysitting, when he could be out doing something remotely interesting.

“No, this is perfectly fine.” He smiled lightly. “I really would rather hang out here than go to another poetry reading alone.”

“Oh, well what do you want to do? They are having a horror fest on The Movie Channel; care to join me for a night of blood and guts?” It is so easy to make him laugh.

“Sure, I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do,” he chortled, shaking his head.

I made some popcorn and we sat on the sofa, beginning the Horror Fest with a classic, ‘THE LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT’. I tend to lean towards Wes Craven; his movies have a psychotic edge to them.

I settled into the sofa, the lights were off to give the movie a more eerie effect, and placed the bowl of popcorn in between us. Rob edged his way closer to the bowl, what a popcorn hog.

After the movie was over, he looked at his watch and sighed.

“I better get going; I don’t want your parents angry at you for letting me stay over too late.” He rose from the couch and started for the door.

“It’s only eleven thirty, when they go out to a party; they usually don’t pour themselves into bed until four in the morning. Don’t worry about it.” I patted the sofa and motioned him to join me again. I did not really feel like being alone. As much as I love horror movies, this one creeped me out.

“Are you sure? Seriously Gillian, I don’t want your parents mad at you; I don’t want them sending me to the gallows either.” He furrowed his brow as he hesitated near the door.

“Dude, relax. I promise, they won’t mind. As long as you are out of here before two, they will never know anyway.” I was starting to become frustrated with his goody two shoes attitude. We are just friends after all, and they never mind when Skeet comes over and stays late.

“Okay, but maybe I should run to the store and get more snacks.” He smiled, looking at the empty popcorn bowl.

“Yeah maybe, but hurry back, the next movie is about to start!” I said over my shoulder as he darted out the door. I laughed at the way he maneuvered out so fast.

“Hey, did you want anything in particular?” he asked, peeking his head through the door.

“Reese’s peanut butter cups, and hurry up!” I said throwing Dillon’s stuffed Elmo at him. I missed, but I heard the thud as it hit the closing door.

“Well it’s about time!” I said, as Rob walked in, twenty minutes later.

“Sorry, there was a long line at the store,” he said, setting the bag of junk food commodities on the coffee table.

I pawed through the white plastic bag, listening to the rustling sound it made in the process, until I found my treasure.

“Ah ha! Here it is, my favorite movie snack,” I said, triumphantly holding the Reese’s peanut butter cups in my hand. “Thanks, how much do I owe you?” I asked, tearing the magnificent chocolate-peanut butter masterpiece from its packaging.

“Don’t be silly, you don’t owe me anything.” He frowned, biting into a cherry Twizzler.

“Oh, well then thanks, I owe you one.” I sunk my teeth into the delicious piece of candy, letting the chocolate melt on my tongue first as the peanut butter slowly followed. Compelling how a small sugar product can make me so deliriously happy.

“Be careful, I just might hold you to that.” Rob said, breaking my concentration.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I owe you one, right.” I said; my mouth full of my creamy indulgence.

“Uh Gillian,” he started, “I was wondering- you’ve never mentioned it before- but I thought I should ask…”

“What?”

“Well, do you have a boyfriend?” He looked at me sheepishly.

“No, why?” The question struck me as odd, but it didn’t register as anything else.

“Oh, I was just curious. I was thinking about it on the way back from the store. It’s not only your parents I don’t want you getting in trouble with. I wouldn’t want an angry boyfriend chasing after me,” he smirked.

“No, I don’t have a boyfriend,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“What about Skeet?”

“Skeet? Uh no, he’s my best friend, not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, I thought maybe you all had something going.”

“That’s a big, NO. We have known each other since we were little; he’s my partner in crime, that’s all.” I shrugged.

“Okay, so just making sure, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“No, I don’t,” I laughed aloud at the absurdity of the question.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, smiling at my string of guffaws.

“Nothing, it’s just that, well, look at me.” I used my hand to point out the obvious. “I’m not exactly girlfriend material.” I continued laughing but abruptly stopped when I realized he was no longer laughing with me.

“What do you mean, look at you?” His brow furrowed in frustration.

“Just what I said, look at me.” His tone confused me. “I’m ordinary, nothing to look at, I know it. I am comfortable enough with myself to say it and laugh.” I shook my head, dumbfounded.

I noticed his lip twitch slightly and I was expecting him to join me in laughing. But instead, he looked at me, his eyes narrowed.

“That is the dumbest thing you have ever said, you know that?” He looked angry. This surprised me more than his playful attitude towards Dillon.

“I don’t understand, why are you mad?” I asked, feeling all sorts of awkward.

“Gillian McNeill, you are anything but ordinary and nothing to look at. Come here,” he said, extending his hand as he rose off the couch. “I want to show you something.”

I put my hand in his and let him lead me into the half-bath, where he turned on the light and pulled me towards the mirror.

“What do you see?” he asked, as I stood directly in front of it, watching my own flabbergasted expression.

“Nothing, I see- me… What is this all about?” I was losing my patience, and feeling extremely embarrassed.

“Look again, and tell me what you see,” he demanded. Both of us stood in front of the mirror, gazing at my reflection.

“I see a frumpy, ordinary, adolescent girl.” I sighed, frustrated with his interrogation. “What do you want me to see?”

“I want you to see yourself Gillian. I want you to see yourself the way I see you.” He said, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand. “Look at how beautiful you are. How in the world could you not see this? Are you really that blind?”

He continued when my facial expression did not change.

“I have never met a girl as lovely as you. Look,” he pointed to the mirror, forcing me to stare at my dull and average image. “Look at the beautiful color of your eyes. They are like milk chocolate. Look at your lips, they are plump and pink, and look like they’ve tied up in a bow. You have the cutest freckles speckled across the bridge of your nose and your hair has a tint of red when the sun shines down on it.” He touched my ponytail and played with the end of it, swirling it between his fingers.

“And last but not least, your mind. You are the smartest girl I have ever met. Witty, caring and you have the sweetest look on your face when you are guilty of something. You bite your lower lip and raise your right eyebrow unintentionally giving you away. It’s rather adorable.” His lips drew up in a smile, and then he cleared his throat.

“So don’t ever say you are nothing to look at, because that is the most atrocious thing that could ever come from your pretty, pink lips.” He looked upset again. My mouth hung open as I stared at his reflection in the mirror.

It took a while for it to dawn on me; he had been paying very close attention. He somehow managed to pick out details that I hadn’t noticed about myself. How was that possible? Why would a guy like this, pay any kind of attention to a girl like me? Unless we were in some kind of episode of the Twilight Zone, this seemed very far-fetched.

He had his hand on my shoulder and turned me towards him. I noticed he was wearing a grey tee shirt with the older version of Super Mario Bros. on the front. He had his hand on my cheek and I felt it riding there, hesitating. I was too stunned to move. I stood there, mouth open, like a baby bird waiting for a meal, utterly pathetic.

But, even with that, I felt his hand slide off my cheek and reach to the back of my head, pulling off the rubber band that held my hair together. I felt my hair slide down my shoulders and I caught the scent of my pomegranate infused shampoo.

He ran his fingers through my hair, pulling it outwards and letting it fall against my cheeks. My body felt all sorts of weird at that moment. I definitely did not see this coming.

I have never even been this close to a guy-okay with the exception of Skeet and Colin- but this close. Close enough to feel his breath on my face, which incidentally smelled a lot like cherries. Probably due to the Twizzlers, he had been munching on before he began his little experiment.

His hand slid to my neck and I could feel my heart racing, a commuter train rushing its way down the track. Have I every felt like this before? No, I am quite sure I never have. And as foreign as his touch felt to me right now, it also seemed right somehow. I could feel the warmth of his hand on my skin, he was close enough to me that I could hear his breathing pick up pace. No one of the opposite sex had ever tried what Rob was now attempting, not with me at least.

“Gilly,” he whispered my nickname. The name I had asked him to use, the name I was used to hearing from other’s lips, not his. I saw his Adam’s apple bob and heard his hard swallow. Both of his hands were on my cheeks, and he was moving his lips closer to mine. Every nerve ending in my body was screeching with anticipation.

I stood there, frozen, not knowing what role I was supposed to play. Our eyes were open as he tilted his head, parted his lips a little, and slowly pressed them to mine. I had been holding my breath, and I had a ringing in my ears. I heard a groan, a sigh that came from the depths of his throat. If I didn’t know any better, I would say it sounded a lot like relief.

I could taste the warmth of his lips, how soft and magnificent they were; how tenderly he kissed me, hesitantly. I had never kissed anyone before. Okay well maybe Skeet, but we were in fifth grade and it was just a peck because we were curious what it would be like.

He moved his right hand to my back and pulled me closer to his body. I could feel his heart thrumming against my chest. I lost all sense of awkwardness and wrapped my arms around his neck, closing my eyes and letting his lips graze mine, then my cheek, then neck. My toes began to tingle and I felt a rush of heat fill my head. He twisted my loose hair in his fingers and pulled me in even closer. He twirled us around until my back was against the wall and I felt an ache in my gut when, for a split second, I though he was going to stop.

“Giwee!” Dillon cried from the top of the stairs. Rob stopped automatically and we stared into each other’s eyes for a brief second, trying to catch our breath, before I ran towards the stairs and grabbed Dillon who was rubbing his tear soaked eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I scooped him up and walked as fast as I could to his room. “Did you have a bad dream, buddy?”

He nodded and yawned, but kept crying. I tucked him into his bed and turned on a cartoon. This seemed to soothe him. I kissed his forehead and he reached out for me, wanting a hug. I complied with him, squeezing him tightly in my arms.

“Good night Dill, see you in the morning, okay?” I said and was relieved when he nodded. I left his room, closing the door behind me, leaving it open just a crack, and rushed back down the stairs. At the last step, I adjusted my clothes and wiped my mouth with my shirtsleeve.

The ache in the pit of my stomach had turned into butterflies. I stepped onto the cream-colored marble floor and into the living room, where Rob waited for me. I saw him standing against one of the Greek style columns that separated the living room and foyer. He turned to look at me, a smile forming at the corner of his mouth. I was so scared that our dastardly little interference would put an end to what was the best night of my life. Walking towards him however, he stood straight up, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, a smile still lingering on his beautiful red lips.

“Sorry about that,” I started, “I don’t think he’ll wake up again.” I looked down at my old Chuck Converse sneakers, which looked worn and overused. I couldn’t get rid of them, even though I wanted a new pair… Oy, now I was rambling around in my head, trying to avoid the next words that would inevitably come out of his mouth. The words that were ripping me to shreds inside; “I’d better go home.”

I didn’t dare look at him. I was so frightened that I might explode with all sorts of crazy emotions that were flooding through me at this point. So I kept my head down, not noticing that he was moving closer to me. That is until I saw his sneakers in front of mine. In the same, condition no less.

“Gilly,” he lifted my chin with his finger. “I didn’t freak you out, did I?”

I started at him, confused at first. How could he even think I would freak out over this? I was so far from freaked, it was ridiculous. All I wanted for him to do was plant his lips on mine like that again.

Of course, throwing my arms around his neck and jumping on him to steal the kisses away for my own greedy satisfaction wasn’t the best way to go, either. But don’t think I haven’t thought about it.

“No, of course not. I’m a little surprised-very surprised-but not freaked.” He searched my face for a long moment, trying to read between some invisible lines, I suppose, to find the truth. But my words rang clear and true. I was happier than a flea on a dog’s butt.

“Oh good, I was worried I had come on to strong,” he sighed.

By all means, come on stronger.

“No, no, you were fine.” I said, stupidly. I couldn’t blame myself; it wasn’t fair for him to expect that I would be even a tad coherent after he laid a kiss like that on me.

I heard him chuckle and I looked up at him, trying to catch the punch line of his joke.

“What?” I asked, annoyed. I hate not knowing about things, even if they are just thoughts in other people’s minds.

“Nothing,” he said, smiling again. “It’s just… I have wanted to do that since the first day I met you.” He brushed my hair away from my cheek, behind my shoulder.

“Really?” A smile began forming at the corner of my mouth. I was more than astounded, considering I had harbored some deluded fantasies about my lips on his. It never occurred to me he might feel the same. NEVER.

“Really!” he said in a breathy laugh.

For a moment, all I could hear was the sound of my breath, gathering itself in, forming gasps. And the sound of my heart, thumping it’s way into exultation. I felt his body tremble as he pulled me in again, pressing his warm, cherry flavored lips to mine.

It is a common fact that dating your boss is a tremendous mistake. However, if anyone were born to break the rules, it was me. Having the gloriously beautiful, witty and intelligent Rob as a boyfriend was the greatest rule I have ever broken.

I have never been so happy with anyone’s company, probably because no one had ever kissed me and held me in their arms the way he does.

I tend to loathe the cheesiness of relationships. When I see Renee all over Miles, I always roll my eyes and groan. I never fully understood the raw power someone holds, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Telling me how adorable I am.

Hell, I never thought I was adorable enough for that, period. Nevertheless, it is true, he finds me irresistible. It’s kind of weird, I thought he was just as irresistible from the beginning. I would never have been able to picture this, even in my wildest dreams.

“So, what is on the agenda for tonight?” Rob asked when we reached the employee parking lot one afternoon after work.

“Don’t know. Homework, I guess.” I was doing better in school, thanks to Rob and his outstanding tutoring.

“I guess that sounds fair,” he said, brushing my hair from my cheek. I have begun to wear it loose-a request from my boss, slash, boyfriend.

“So, are you coming over to help me?” I smiled at him, expecting a yes.

“Sorry, I have homework as well, and I also have a class tonight.” He shook his head, seemingly disappointed. I liked that.

“Okay, then I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course; but you’re off tomorrow. Hmm, I guess we have to figure out something to do.” He moved forward, pressing his lips to mine. If I could kiss him all day long, I would.

He held me close and I breathed him in. I love the scent of his shower gel and fabric softener. It smells of fresh linen and warm ocean breeze. It is completely intoxicating. He took the keys from my hand and unlocked my door, opening it for me.

I turned on the car and heard the purr of the engine. I rolled down the window and watched him linger there, obviously waiting for another kiss goodbye.

Oh yes, yes, yes….

“So, call me tonight?”

“Is there really any doubt?” He smiled.

He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand and leaned in again for another head-spinning, mind-boggling, butterfly in the stomach kiss. Oh, would this feeling never end?

“See you tomorrow. I’ll be at your house to pick you up around eight. Wear something nice.” He instructed, smiling slyly.

“Wear something nice for what? I thought we were catching a movie.” I looked at him confused.

“It’s a surprise, and don’t blow it for me, okay.” He kissed my cheek and ruffled my hair playfully.

“Okay, what’s going on? I hate surprises.” I glared at him.

“I know; that’s what makes it so much fun,” he chuckled.

“Great; you aren’t playing fair you know.”

“I never do, see you tomorrow.” He jumped in his truck before I had a chance to protest some more.

Ugh, I really hate to be surprised. But since it is him doing the surprising, I guess I shouldn’t mind so much.

We got out early today because Tanya and a new guy he hired, Curtis, were taking over tonight. Tanya is not very reliable, so he figured he would hire someone else to help her out while he went to class.

I love the fact he is studying to be an English professor. It makes me so proud that he would actually be in front of a class discussing his favorite books and poetry, grammar and the classics of English literature in his appealing voice. Who wouldn’t sit down and shut up to listen to him speak?

On the drive home, I watched the sun bounce off the shiny blue paint of my car. It made me smile and I rolled my eyes at my hyperbole of emotion. I was so exuberantly happy that I am smiling at sunlight bouncing off my car? This has to be a joke.

When I got home, I noticed the Expedition parked in the garage. Mom was home early, this was a surprise.

“Hey Mom, what’s going on?” I asked, walking into the kitchen.

“Nothing, just planning some stuff,” she said without looking up from her task. I saw the manila folder on the kitchen table and the papers strewn all over it. She looked frazzled, but excited at the same time.

“Oh, well, I’m off to do my homework,” I announced, walking towards the stairs.

“Where’s Rob today?” She finally looked up from her work, smiling.

She is very fond of Rob, which gives me the chills. Considering I have tried very hard in my teenage years to annoy her, the way she has annoyed me.

“He has homework and class tonight. He said he was going to pick me up tomorrow and to wear something nice. I don’t know for what.” I paused for a minute on the first step. “Hey Mom, it’s my birthday tomorrow and I thought maybe I could stay out past eleven. Do you think that would be okay with you and Dad?” I was waiting for her usual no. She surprised me when she smiled brightly.

“Oh yes, by all means. I’m sure you and Rob have a lot of things planned for tomorrow. Dad and I don’t mind. After all, you will be seventeen; you deserve a little extra time allotted to your curfew.”

Okay, something weird was going on. Since when does my mother agree to anything without a huge argument?

I was about to protest, but thought better of it. Just take her new found excitement with my boyfriend and run.

“Thanks, I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” I stopped for a second, “hey, where’s Dill?”

“He’s in his room watching Nemo, again.” I swear I heard her eyes roll.

I was going to have to buy that cartoon for him again. I bet it’s worn down to the nub already.

I put my backpack in my room and then made my way into Dillon’s; he was perched on his baseball glove chair, watching the cartoon intently.

“Hey buddy,” I said, squatting next to his chair.

“Giwee!” he squealed. “Me miss you!” I noticed his speech was improving and I felt a little guilty; daycare seems to be working well for him.

“I missed you to Dill,” I opened my arms as he jumped into them. I lost my balance, and landed flat on my butt. His thunderous giggles made me laugh.

“Watch Nemo wit me,” he said.

“Well, I have homework, buddy. But I tell you what, after I finish, we will watch it together, okay?”

He nodded, jumping back into his chair. I ruffled his hair and went to begin the daunting task of my high school curriculum.

So, now it’s Friday, and I am officially seventeen. I was born at two-thirty in the morning, and so I really am officially seventeen. Rob called me last night and we stayed on the phone until midnight, so he could wish me a happy birthday.

Have you ever had the feeling that something awesome is going to happen to you when you wake up in the morning? I have that feeling; today is going to be a great day.

I decided to go to Skeet’s house to pick him up for school. I haven’t talked to him in a while, and I miss him. On the way to his house, I noticed him walking already.

“Hey Skeet, want a ride?”

“Naw, I think I’ll walk today,” he said. Okay, now I am curious. Since when does he turn down a ride to school?

“Shut up and get in,” I said, pulling over to the curb. He followed my directions, without arguing.

I decided I would pick Colin up as well; he didn’t say a word on the way over there. The silence was awkward, so I decided to break it, subtly.

“So what is your problem? I know you’re quiet, but complete silence?” Maybe I wasn’t that subtle, whatever.

“Nothing; just got a lot on my mind is all. Can’t a guy have a lot on his mind?” He was pissed, I should leave it alone, but I am Gilly. I don’t leave anything unresolved.

“Skeet, are you mad at me?” I was sure he would say no, but I thought I’d ask anyway.

“Well, a little,” he admitted, frowning.

I did a double take. I asked to start a conversation; sure, it was just a stupid question. I guess I was wrong.

“What did I do?” I looked at him, wondering what the hell was going on. He looked at me for a second, and then turned to look out the window again.

“Nothing, just forget it,” he shook his head.

“Dude, you know me better than that, I don’t about forget anything. Why are you mad at me?” I demanded, perturbed.

“Well, you don’t spend time with us anymore. All you do is spend time with Rob,” I didn’t like the tone in his voice.

“What is your problem with Rob? I thought you liked him.” I could feel the heat rising into my cheeks, and I was sure they were blazing red.

“Nothing. I just think it isn’t fair that you spend all your time with him and leave your friends behind.” He scowled at me.

The guilt washed over me in waves. I have been paying a lot of attention to Rob, leaving Skeet and Colin to fend for themselves.

“Sorry, I guess I didn’t realize that you felt that way.” I looked ahead at the road, contemplating my next words. I have been a bad friend; nothing I can say would change that. However, I vowed I would make it up to him, Colin and Renee. Although, I think Renee would have less to complain about; she is still dating Miles, the wonder geek.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I think I am just being a little selfish when it comes to your time.” Great, now I feel worse. Sometimes he was too understanding.

“So, what say we do something this weekend? Got any plans for tomorrow?” I smiled, trying to appease him.

“Oh, tomorrow? No, no that’s no good for me; I have plans. How about tonight, I have nothing to do tonight,” he seemed hopeful.

Oy, this was going to be harder than I thought. I bit my lower lip, looking at him apologetically.

“Let me guess, you have plans tonight.” He shook his head, disappointed again.

“How about Sunday, is it good for you? Sunday’s good for me.”

“Whatever, Sunday’s fine,” he shrugged and continued to look out the window.

I have no idea what his problem with Rob is. It’s not as if it’s been that long since we hung out. Besides, he and Colin used to go into Buy the Game all the time. But they have jobs now, and I understand. Why can’t he?

Ugh, what a freaking nightmare, I scowled the rest of the way to Colin’s house.

After school, I ran upstairs to shower and change. My mother had taken me to the mall to buy make-up last week. She was so excited to be doing something together that she liked, she hardly stopped babbling the whole shopping trip.

She was intent on buying me a small, black Dooney and Bourke purse, with matching wallet. When I started barking about the price, she told me to shut up and let her have some fun. I complied, objectively. It was kind of cool the way her eyes lit up when I asked her to go with me and pick out make-up.

Needless to say, I ended up with a wad of new and fashionable apparel. I also didn’t complain too much when she helped me get dressed so Rob could take me wherever the hell it was we were going.

I heard the doorbell ring, and my mother screamed for my father to answer it. I looked at the clock, the boy has impeccable timing, it is eight o’clock on the dot.

“Oh Gilly, you look so beautiful,” she gushed. I swear she had tears in her eyes. It seems a little pathetic that getting me all gussied up would make her so happy. But, considering I don’t have an social retard for a daughter, I smiled and thanked her anyway.

“Hi sir, is Gillian ready?” I heard Rob’s melodious voice from downstairs.

“She should be,” my father said. “Gilly, what’s the hold up?” he yelled up the stairs.

“Keep your pants on, she’s coming.” My mother had already left my room so that I could make my grand entrance. I have never been so mortified in my life.

I walked down the steps, slowly; I hate drawing attention to myself. I laughed when my mother rolled her eyes at the style of shoes I demanded to wear tonight. They are black, ballerina style flats, with biker type skulls on the front, right side. The tip and the very back have some sort of glittery deal on them, and there is a silver lion’s head attached to the side. Totally my taste in shoes. Thank the shoe Gods for Ed Hardy, shoe designer extraordinaire.

The dress, however, is nothing I would have picked out for myself. We had wondered into American Eagle and my mother flitted over to the dress section, happy as a lark. I don’t own a dress; well I didn’t until now. I gasped aloud when I saw the horrific, garden tea party, type of dress she had in her hand. The multi-colored flowers against the black material made me gag internally. And to top it all off, it was strapless. I don’t do strapless, ever. I was not blessed with a perfect bosom. My mother has one, ten thousand dollars worth of perfect bosom.

“Isn’t it adorable?” she swooned. “It will look perfect on you, Gilly. You always hide your figure, and you have such a tiny, little waist. Try it on; for me.” She batted her overly mascaraed eyelashes at me. I am such a sucker for begging. I had to admit, though, I loved the way it looked on me. Well, I wouldn’t admit it to her, but I felt like a girl. It was kind of cool, in a weird, surreal way.

So now, I am walking down the damn steps, towards my dream date, feeling about as self-conscious as a sweaty, naked gym instructor would.

“Wow, Gilly, you look beautiful,” my father whistled.

I am now ready to run back to my room and hide.

“Doesn’t she though?” My mother had a freaking camera in her hand. Oh, this just gets better and better.

“You look lovely.” Rob said, all dreamy eyed, taking my hand to help me off the last step. He is such a gentleman. All my nervousness seemed to flitter away as soon as I felt the warmth of his hand.

“Er, thanks,” I said. I kept my cool even though I was ready to jump on him and steal the kisses my mouth so desperately craved. I could wait until we were in his truck.

“Shall we?” he asked, extending his arm for me to grab hold of.

“Wait, wait, I have to get some pictures first.” My mother was already grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the door, demanding that I pose for her. Rob complied graciously and we smiled and cheesed it for the camera. There is nothing like a giddy, overzealous mother to put a damper on my evening.

Well, I am being unfair. She really is having fun and I shouldn’t take that away from her. After all, she only has one daughter and it is my first date. Therefore, I made every effort to impress, just for her.

Once we were in his truck, he leaned over and kissed my lips, gently, trying not to smear the red lipstick my mother had be-daubed me with.

“So, where are we going?” I asked, hiding the impatience that simmered below the surface.

“It’s a surprise, just give it a minute,” he chuckled, caressing my face again.

“Fine,” I sighed.

I was more than shocked when we pulled into the parking area of the InterContinental Hotel Houston. Renee had told me about this place, it is sheik and very expensive. Not to mention the food is excellent. I was too enthralled in our conversation to notice it took around thirty minutes to get to our destination. Sugarland is not that far from Houston, but Houston is huge. Going anywhere in particular takes a while to get there.

“What are we doing here?” I asked dubiously. A knot suddenly developed in the pit of my stomach when the word ‘hotel’ suddenly came into focus.

“We are eating dinner here. I made reservations earlier in the week,” he said getting out of the truck and walking over to my side. He opened the door for me-something he told me I would have to become accustomed to-and extended his hand. I took it, gingerly and we strolled along towards the restaurant, holding hands the whole way. Extremely sappy, I know, but it felt so good to have his hand in mine.

“Reservation for Robert Schneider,” he told the maitre d.

“Right this way sir,” we followed him to a table for two. It had candles for crying out loud. I was ready to run back out the door, but the look in Rob’s eyes melted my revulsion of the romantic sight.

“Sit, please,” he said, pulling my chair out for me.

“Thanks,” I followed his orders and sat down; grabbing the menu the maitre d had placed in front of me.

“Your waiter will be right with you.” He smiled and turned on his heels, back to his post, I suppose.

“What is all this?” I was still very concerned about the rest of his plans for the night. It was only nine, who knows what he has in store for me later.

“Happy birthday Gilly,” he said smiling, exposing his dazzling white teeth. I made a mental note of everything around me, the way his black, v-neck sweater nestled perfectly against his torso. The way his mess of tousled, sandy blond locks now neatly flowed around his head, he wore black trouser pants and black dress shoes, a little bit morbid maybe, but he was such a sight. I was even digging the candle light, considering how it made his blue eyes sparkle in their shimmering glow.

I have never felt so girlie, it was a little distracting, but in a good way.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” I said.

“You’re most welcome. And have I mentioned you look amazing?” He took my hand and I began to blush all different shades of red.

“About fifty times since we left my house,” I laughed.

“Well, if I have to tell you fifty more times, so you can understand, I will,” he said.

My cheeks were probably violet by now.

“What do you feel like having for dinner? No expense spared.” He grabbed the menu and started reading.

I looked at the menu and my mouth flopped open at the prices. “Um, Rob,”

“Yes?”

“I think there is something you should know about me.” It was time to tell him the truth.

“What is that?” He looked up from the menu.

“I am the most frugal person you will ever meet. I am absolutely appalled by these prices!” I said in a harsh whisper.

He rolled his eyes and laughed. “Gilly, don’t worry about it. I got this, okay. It’s your birthday, and this is one of my gifts to you. Just pick something, anything and don’t worry about the price; not tonight.”

I couldn’t look at the blasted menu without wanting to go into convulsions. My frugality comes from Granny McNeill. She instilled the ‘want not, waste not’ attitude in me when I was seven years old.

This attitude is not aiding me in my plight to choose something totally absurd from the menu.

“What’s say I chose something for you?” he asked, taking the menu out of my stiff hands, freeing me of my wretched burden.

“Hello, my name is Ruben, and I will be your waiter tonight,” the young, dark complected male was standing there with a smile on his face. “Are you ready to order, or do you need more time?”

“I think we are ready,” Rob said, sophisticatedly.

He ordered some odd sounding dishes from the very upscale menu. It sounded to me like he had been here before. I shrugged off the thought and waited for him to finish giving Ruben our order. When he left to get our drinks, I looked at Rob who was suddenly pale.

“Are you okay?” I started to flounder around for something to wipe the sweat off his brow. “We don’t have to eat here if you don’t want to. I’ll settle for a cheeseburger and fries. I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s not that,” he gulped. “It’s-it’s…”

“Robert,” I heard a sultry voice call out his name. “Wow, hi. I haven’t seen you in ages.”

I looked up to find the source of the voice; should have kept my head down.

The gorgeous, strawberry blonde was in front of us now, bending down to kiss his cheek. A flood of jealousy rolled through me and I was ready to go all sorts of Irish on her.

“Samantha, hi,” he looked nervous now. “How have you been?”

“Ugh, wretched, Daddy has me on a tight schedule.” The way she said schedule, sounding like shedual, made me want to punch her.

“Samantha, this is Gillian McNeill,” he introduced me, clearing his throat. “Gillian, this is Samantha Burgess.” I rose from my seat, almost curtseying so I could make a sarcastic impression, and extended my hand.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, politely. Well, as politely as I could.

“Like wise I’m sure,” she said, very impolitely. The look she gave me made me shrink back into my chair. As if I were inferior to her and what the hell was Rob doing with me.

“Well, it was nice to see you Samantha,” he interrupted. “But as you can see, we are in the middle of dinner.” He pointed to our empty table, blushing when he realized it.

“Well I hope I haven't been too much of an interruption, please enjoy your meal.” She smirked.

I was feeling very awkward and violent at the same time. I don’t know who she is, but she was really picking at my last nerve.

“Thank you, and enjoy your meal as well,” Rob said, sitting down.

“Oh I was just on my way out; going to meet Dave and Sherry at the bar. Call me so we can catch up. My number is still the same.” She bent down to kiss his cheek, again. I didn’t realize I had balled my hands into fists and that my arm had twitched just as she was leaning towards him.

However, she seemed to notice and this made her insanely happy.

“It was nice to meet you Janelle,” she said, extending her hand.

“It’s Gillian,” Rob corrected her, angrily.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Gillian.” Her smile was one hundred percent not sorry.

I glowered at him as soon as she walked away from us.

“Who the hell was that?” I was biting angry.

“No one, an old friend; let’s just eat, okay,” he looked at me, pleading when the waiter brought our appetizer.

Yeah, right. As if, I was going to let this go. “Rob, I don’t like to be lied to. Don’t tell me she is an old friend. Do you take me for a moron?” I had the white cloth napkin squeezed tightly in my right fist.

He dragged in a deep breath, exhaling loudly and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his right thumb and forefinger. “Okay, okay, you’re right. She’s not just an old friend,” he paused, the sweat returning to his brow. “She was my fiancée.”

“You’re w-what?” I stuttered, trying to find my voice.

“My fiancée; ex-fiancée to be exact,” he said taking a big gulp of his soda.

I felt my stomach turn in all different directions. I turned towards the exit, ready to bolt. Suddenly, my perfect day was turning into a nightmare. I glowered at him, uneasy. I was now looking at him for the first time. Looking beyond his flawless face and seeing what I had previously overlooked.

“Who are you, really?” I could hear my voice shaking and my eyes stinging.

“You know who I am, Gilly. I’m the same person who brought you here tonight to make your birthday special. Please, don’t let this ruin our evening.” He looked at me so sincerely, it would have melted my uneasiness away. But now, after this revelation, I don’t think so.

“I think you’d better take me home, now.” I demanded in a small voice. I could feel the tears threatening to brim and I was not going to do this at a fancy pants restaurant.

“Please, don’t do this. If you want, I will explain everything to you right now. But I am begging you, don’t let this ruin our evening,” he looked like he was on the verge of getting on his knees and pleading relentlessly. On any other occasion, I would have enjoyed it. However, since we were in a crowded restaurant, and I was sure I recognized a couple of my father’s clients when I walked in, I let him talk.

“Go ahead,” I said, folding my arms on the table, my expression blank and hard. “Spill it.”

“Samantha Burgess and I have known each other since we were kids. We went to prep school together and we attended the same private schools all the way up to graduation,” he sighed, leaning closer to me.

“She was my first and only girlfriend up until my senior year of high school. I was crazy about her. Our families have been friends for ages and they expected that we would marry and keep that tradition alive. My mother gave me my grandmother’s ring and I proposed to her on graduation night. We were to be married after we graduated from college. I was supposed to take over the family business and she was supposed to stay home and raise our children and be a woman of leisure.”

My eyes were already burning intensely by now. I fought the tears of anger as best I could.

“Things were going according to plan up until last year, when I decided to change my major and become a professor. This made my parents very angry. They had been grooming me for the business since I was in diapers,” he chuckled darkly, shaking his head.

“I assumed that Samantha would be behind me no matter what decision I made…I assumed wrong. She demanded that I return to my major and finish college so that I could become the head of the company when my father retired. When I told her I had no plans to be an oilman, she took the ring off her finger and threw it at me. We had been living together for about six months in an apartment our parents had bought for us. When I came home from school the next day, all of her clothes were gone,” he was looking at his hands, folded on the table. I had the urge to reach out and touch them, but I was still fuming from the situation. I put my hands on my lap and kept listening.

“She left me a Dear John letter, telling me she was not the type of woman to be married to a lowly English professor and that she had other ambitions and goals. That included marrying someone with enough money to take care of her and her career as an interior designer.” He cleared his throat, fighting back an emotion of which I was unclear.

“When I went to her best friend Rachel Embry’s house, trying to reason with her and tell her that I loved her and to come back home, I was then informed that she was and had been dating Clifton Harris. He was a classmate of ours, not to mention my best friend. She was dating him for over a year. She is no better than a cockroach.”

“So, your family is wealthy,” I said, stating the obvious.

“Extremely so,” he looked embarrassed.

“Then why…”

“Why am I working at Buy the Game?” he said, finishing my sentence.

I nodded, speechless, for the first time in my life.

“Because, I have cut off all contact with my parents. They were so angry with me, they gave me an ultimatum. Either I go back to school and assume my father’s role, or I choose the latter and they would permanently cut me off. I chose the latter.” He smiled at me, triumphantly.

“Why me? You could have your pick of any girl, anywhere. Why me?” After seeing Samantha Burgess, I now questioned his interest in me. His beaming smile washed away any awkwardness I felt towards him.

“Why not? You are exactly the kind of girl I have been searching for my entire life. I thought I had it all before, but when I first saw you, it was like finding the golden needle in the haystack of life,” he said. Leaning forward, he put his hand out, palm up, signaling me to put mine where it belonged.

“I don’t get it,” I said, still bewildered.

“What I don’t get, is what you see in me. You seemed to be too good to be true at first, but then I realized something the moment I kissed you for the first time. You are exactly like me. Your parent’s wealth doesn't interest you in the slightest. That is one of the things I love about you the most, your sense of self; how nothing material matters to you.” He laughed suddenly. “Hell, even the dress you’re wearing; if I hadn’t asked you to dress up, you would be here in jeans, tee shirt and sneakers. Which, just so happens to be my absolute favorite outfit on you. The only thing I love that you have done differently is your hairstyle. You have the most beautiful hair, and I love to see it frame your heart shaped face.” He lifted my hand to his mouth, kissing it gently. “You are absolutely angelic to me.”

This was it, this moment, here, now-he had me wrapped around his little finger. I felt my heart racing, my knees quaking under the table and the butterflies that were swirling around in my stomach would have lifted me off the table if it were not for him holding my hand.

We looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment; the longing for closeness was so profound it sent an electrical jolt through my arm, spurring my feelings into his fingertips. Dreams are made of moments such as these. Therefore, when Ruben came over with the rest of the food, I wanted to sock him in his polite, dark complected face.

After dinner, he took me to Sesquicentennial Park, leading me to the manmade waterfall. We leaned against the pinkish color brick, listening to the sound of the water falling down the manmade steps. It was peaceful and relaxing; it was magnificent.

I had decided at dinner to let go of the idea of his past. It seemed to me that he was over this weirdo ex-girlfriend and I should just be glad that it was me that he was holding, not her. It still seems pretty far-fetched to me, that a twenty-year-old man would take an interest in a seventeen-year-old girl like me, but why fool around with numbers. Even if this doesn’t last, I am glad I have had the chance to experience something this profound before I started college. At least I know what to look for later in life. Perfection doesn’t happen to often, so I’ll take what I can get.

“I have something for you,” he said pulling a long, slender black box out of his pocket.

“What is it?” I felt a twinge of excitement. I hate presents most of the time. However, if it was Rob doing the giving, it was okay by me.

“Open it,” he said, placing the box in my hand.

My mouth fell open when I opened the box and saw the beautiful silver bracelet lying on the black velvet, covered piece of cardboard. I stared at the face, which had Gillian engraved on the I.D. tag. The rest of it was straight silver, with small stars carved all around it. It was beautiful; beautiful doesn’t even describe it.

“I made it myself. It is amazing what you can learn from the internet,” he smiled, taking it from the box and placing it on my wrist. “I hope you like it.”

“I-I-I love it,” the words stumbled out of my mouth, stupidly. I actually had something he made with his own two hands against my skin. There are no words for what I was feeling at this moment.

I looked at him, gazing into his handsome face, raising my hand to touch it. I ran my fingers down his masculine jaw line and brushed his lips with my thumb. He closed his eyes, seemingly enthralled with my touch. I pulled him toward me, placing both hands gently on his face, feeling the stubble underneath them. His eyes seemed to blaze with intensity and I could feel those damn butterflies again, rolling through my body. I felt his hand on the small of my back, pulling me in closer, both his arms around me now.

The kiss was strange now; it had more intensity, more passion. I felt it in my toes, in my fingertips, turning my brain to mush. It was amazing and it had my teenage hormones raging erratically. This was undiscovered territory. I wasn't used to feeling this way. In that moment I wanted his hands all over me, I wanted to rip off his sweater and feel his bare chest underneath my hands. Ugh, but of course, Granny McNeill’s pearls of wisdom reared their ugly head again.

Why buy the cow, when you can get the milk for free?

Freaking words of wisdom, I could shoot myself for listening to every word she said. With a groan, I pulled away from my fantasy, and Rob, and leaned my head against his chest. I could feel his lips on the crown of my head; feel the heat of his breath on it. I stood there with him, cherishing the moment, as long as I could.

The next morning, my mother came into my room and demanded I get out of bed. I groaned and thought about chunking my pillow at her, but I got up and did what she asked. I figured she wanted me to watch Dillon so she could go and do her running around crap, seeing as how I ruined date night for her last night.

I was surprised when she told me to get dressed, and when my father said he was taking care of the munchkin so my mother and I could go and do birthday girl stuff together. I had already received my present, my car. But it seems that she had other things up her sleeve. Apparently, our shopping trip had opened new doors for me, and we were on our way to yet another shopping expedition. She asked that we take my car; I was more than happy to comply. The Expedition is nice, but I prefer to ride around in my car. It just suits me better.

I called Rob from my mother’s cell phone and informed him I was going on a shopping trip with her. He seemed excited by the prospect and told me to have fun. I was off for the whole weekend; being the boss’s girlfriend has its perks.

“Hey Gilly, look at this dress,” my mother called out when we arrived at Sax Fifth Ave. at the Galleria mall in Houston.

“It’s nice,” I said, trying to pretend to care. The whole dress thing has me a bit uncomfortable. Yes, I was partial to the one she picked out for me at American Eagle, but I still wasn’t comfortable with the notion of having more than three dresses in my closet. I was in the jeans section already.

“It’s perfect,” she said grabbing it off the rack and shoving me into a dressing room to try it on.

“Mom, this is a prom dress or something,” I complained. What would I need a dress like this for?

“Just let me see it,” she demanded. I walked out of the dressing room to wide, sparkly eyes. “That’s it, this is the one.” She made me twirl around and model it for her. I felt like I should be on a runway or something. However, I bit my tongue and did what she asked of me.

“Is there anything else you want me to try on?” I asked, waiting for the beginning of my worst nightmare.

“Nope, that is it. We found it.” She said, gleefully. “Okay, put your clothes back on and give me the dress. We have to go to the lingerie department and buy you a bra for it; oh and the shoe and jewelry department as well.”

I could here the cha-ching of the cash register in my head. Oy, the things I let her talk me into doing.

The dress is nice; I have to admit, yet again. The bodice, at least, has straps. But the neck is v-shaped and it clings tight to my torso. I do like the way the skirt part thing flares out, and the intricate patterns that adorned it are pretty. Of course, the fact that it is black has me happy. It does have a gold color under the tulle with the intricate patterns, but it works well with the black itself.

She talked me into buying a pair of black pumps with a thin, stiletto type heel that had satin ribbon, which tied in a huge bow at my ankle. I still have no idea why she is making me buy this horrific outfit, but I have learned it is best to let her do her thing. We probably have to attend a wedding for a client of my father’s or something. I hate going to those things, but I am sure I will be dragged to it anyway. So I figure I will just sit back and let her pick out what I need for it.

When we got home, my father asked how it had gone. I did not mention the three thousand dollars she racked up on his credit card today. He would find out when the bill came in. Besides, she spent most of it on me, how could I complain? I have started to realize that ranting about the outrageous prices would get me nowhere.

Around five, my mother told me to jump into the shower, again. She said she wanted to straighten my hair for tonight. I still have no idea what’s going on, but considering how nice they were last night, I am just going to go along with anything they tell me.

After my hair was straightened and my make-up placed strategically on my face, I was ordered to put on the dress and shoes she had bought me earlier in the afternoon.

When I was finished, we all piled into the Expedition, heading off to places unknown. Dillon looked exceptional in his baby tux and shiny black shoes. We played peek-a-boo in the backseat the whole way to the reception hall, where we eventually came to a stop.

“Who’s getting married?” I asked, trying to will myself into a better mood.

“A client’s daughter; we won’t be in there long, I promise,” my father smiled and winked.

I began pulling my little brother out of his car seat, but I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“I got him, Gilly,” my father said, pulling him from the truck. I followed my family into the reception hall, continuing the peek-a-boo derby with Dillon. I did have his diaper bag, but my mother grabbed it away from me when we got to the door, fiddling with it.

“I put my cell phone in here,” she started, looking through it impatiently. “Gilly, will you sign us in?” she asked, still fumbling around for her Blackberry. I rolled my eyes, but opened the doors to sign the guestbook for her.

“Gilly! Oh my God Gilly, are you alright?” I heard Renee ask, her voice panicky, as she ran up to me to help me up off the floor.

“What is all this?” I asked her in a harsh whisper, still lying face first on the floor.

“You’re parents wanted to surprise you with a party,” she whispered as she helped me up. “Just smile and say thank you. Jill really went to a lot of trouble to do this. So, suck it up and smile for the camera.”

When I was on my feet, she forcibly wrapped her arms around me and wished me a happy birthday. I noticed everybody was dressed in evening wear. Even though it was unseasonably hot for October, some had sweaters on. I turned to thank my parents who in turn hugged me and whispered happy birthday in my ear.

It was the first time they had ever done anything like this for me before. I felt a little overwhelmed and the tears brimmed and spilled over, falling down my reddened cheeks.

The next person to hug me and tell me happy birthday was Skeet. He looked very dapper in his tuxedo. I couldn’t believe he was wearing a monkey suit, but here he was, all dressed up in black and white.

“Wow Skeet, you look great,” I said. A bit shocked at the change. Skeet’s curly black hair was usually in a disarray around his face. But he had cut it short, very short. It was the first time in years I was able to see his face. He was wearing contacts and was clean shaven.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Studly, huh?” Renee said, putting her arm around him.

“Give it a rest Renee,” he said, embarrassed.

“Why Skeet? You really do look good,” I said in protest.

“Thanks,” he cleared his throat. “Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure,” I said, puzzled. Skeet never carries a conversation, much less says he has to talk to someone. I followed him to an exit door, that led to a stairway in the back of the hall. I noted that the whole place was completely covered in Casino Night props. My mother had spared no expense on anything. The hall is a presidential type of ballroom. It has chandeliers, red carpet, tuxedoed servers and red walls that are adorned with awesome crown molding. It was really nice and well decorated. I would have to give Jill kudos for this.

“What’s up?” I asked when we reached our destination.

“There is something I need to say,” he started. He was nervously fidgeting with the tie on his tux.

“Shoot,” I said, giving him the floor.

He began pacing the floor and wringing his hand together, looking completely befuddled. After about two minutes of silence, I finally cut in.

“Skeet, you are wearing a hole in the carpet. What’s going on?”

“Gilly,” he walked up to me now, laying his hands on my shoulders and looking me dead in the eye. “I have been wanting to tell you something for the last five years, I just never had the guts to say it out loud.”

“What is it for crying out loud?” I was really annoyed by this point.

“I-I…to hell with it,” he said, pulling me into him and kissing me, hard. My eyes stayed open and I was frozen stiff, stunned by the fact that his lips were firmly planted on mine. I didn’t move, didn’t breathe; I let him finish what he started, trying very hard not to push him away in fear he would get his feelings hurt.

It took him a solid minute before he finally pulled away from me, his eyes still closed, and sighed. When he opened his eyes, the look of sadness that washed over his face at my reaction hurt me to the core. He is my best friend, my rock, my go to guy. We have always been there for each other. Why, why is he doing this now? I suddenly felt angry, but the fear of losing him outweighed the anger and I moved towards him, wanting to wrap my arms around him and comfort him. But, he put his hands up stepping away from me.

“I-I’m so sorry Skeet. I didn’t know,” I felt the tears well up in my eyes, again, and my voice became shaky.

“Gilly, don’t…please, just don’t.” He looked at me and the hurt was evident in his eyes. I wanted to scream, I felt the ties between us literally being clipped away, one at a time. This was the end of our friendship. The way it used to be, the way I loved it. I felt like the walls were closing in on me all of a sudden. My world seemed to be changing right before my eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” I asked, through tears this time.

“I thought you would figure it out one day. I thought I could, I should’ve-I was a coward. But, when I see you with Rob now, it makes me so angry. Because I always thought that we would end up together one day. I guess it’s my fault. I took it for granted that you would never find someone else and that I would always be there when you were ready to make that leap; like I always have. I’m sorry, I waited to long and now you’ve gone and fallen for someone else.” I watched him walk to the door, his hand riding on the handle.

“Skeet, wait…” I cried out. “I’m so sorry, I don’t want to lose you. You are my best friend.” I looked at him, pleading.

“You aren’t going to lose me Gilly. I’ll always be here for you. I always have and I always will, it’s just that, I need some time right now, okay?” I heard the words flow from his lips, but I saw the truth in his eyes. Our tie was broken, game over. I watched as he walked back to the party, and out of my life.

I sat on the stairs, trying desperately to stop the ache that I had in the pit of my stomach. I had Rob, Renee and maybe even Colin. But no one could ever take Skeet’s place, no one. And for this, I wept.

I finally pulled myself together enough to walk back into my party. I had wiped the tears away with my hands and noticed that the mascara my mother had put on me was waterproof. Thank God for small favors.

“Gilly, where have you been?” My mother asked, upset. “We have been looking for you for twenty minutes.”

“I was busy, sorry Mom,” I said. I was usually good at hiding my emotions, but today, they were emanating from me.

“Well, that’s okay. Let’s just get you around to say hi and thanks for coming,” she said as she grabbed my hand and led me through the crowd of unrecognizable faces.

I saw my father chatting with men, that I assumed were members of his cliental. I felt like a zombie, walking around, talking and thanking people without looking them directly in the eyes. I had lost an important part of my life a few minutes ago. I didn’t need to be mingling with strangers, I needed to be facedown in my pillow, balling my head off.

I heard the echo of voices, strewn around the room, all jumbled up like a bunch of whispers in the dark. I kept my eyes diverted from everyone that I spoke to; luckily, they didn’t put forth much of an effort to make conversation. I did this for a while, until I heard a familiar voice through the flurried echo of people.

“Hello, Mrs. McNeill,” the sultry voice flowed distinctly over the others.

“Well hello Samantha,” my mother said, extending her hand out to gently shake the strawberry blonde’s.

My birthday could not get any worse, I was sure of it.

“This is the birthday girl, Gillian. Gilly, this is Samantha Burgess, daughter of Sam Burgess; they own a large number of oil rigs and companies. Mr. Burgess is a client of Daddy’s.” Her introductions were not needed, not that she was aware of it. My stomach ached further with the despair that seemed to me raking across it. I was angry, sad, disgusted and hurt at the same time. It wasn't a good combination of emotional distress for a party atmosphere.

“Hi,” I said glumly.

“Nice to see you again Gillian.” Oh, this time she remembered my name.

“You two know each other?” My mother looked confused.

“We met through a mutual friend,” Samantha said. She’s a great liar, I’ll give her that.

“Great, then I’ll leave you girls to talk,” my mother said, letting go of my hand. I tried fruitlessly to grab it again, but she was already speaking to another group of people.

“So, where is Robert?” Samantha asked casually.

“He had to work,” I said, ready to make a run for it. My temper was not at it’s finest at the moment.

“Oh, I thought he said he would meet me here. Hmm, well I’ll see him later then,” she said, swirling her champagne in the glass.

“Excuse me?” I asked, my hands balled into fists, yet again.

“Oh, well, I mentioned I would be coming to the party tonight. He said he would meet up with me here. It had been ages since we spoke, and I was surprised when he called me this afternoon. Well, it really shouldn’t surprise me with our past and all,” she snickered regally.

The room was spinning. I was doubtful of her honesty, and I wasn’t going to put too much faith into anything she told me.

“You’re telling me that my boyfriend is meeting you here, at my birthday party. Lady, you need to get your head checked,” I said, storming off. But I stopped when her hand touched my shoulder.

“You’re what?” She began a string of guffaws that had me ready to have her kicked out. “Young lady, please. Do you know about our past?”

“Yes, I do. He told me you cheated on him with his best friend,” I sneered at her. “Some fiancée you are,” I scoffed.

“Well, I hate to burst your deluded bubble, but Robert and I had a long talk about our future this afternoon. I told him that I was willing to be a professor’s wife, and we have decided to work it out,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

“No way,” I said, still unwilling to believe.

“I’m afraid so, hmm. It’s a pity he took advantage of such a young girl like you. This will ruin your perception of men, I’m sure. But, you are young and you will find someone else. I mean after all,” she scoffed, “did you honestly believe a guy like him would ever fall for a girl like you?”

The tears were returning to my eyes as I began trembling. It was really stupid of me to think that a guy like Rob would really be into a girl like me. I heard her words repeatedly in my head, swirling around like a monsoon. I felt the room spinning and I heard the sound of Renee’s voice calling my name.

“Gilly, what’s up with Skeet?” I kept hearing the echoed voice over and over until the room finally faded to black.

I woke up on a sofa, in an office, the walls the same color as the ballroom. Did I faint? I was not sure, I’ve never fainted before. I hoped in a quick second that my dress had not landed above my head, exposing my panties to the world. I have had enough embarrassment for one day.

“Gilly, are you okay?” My father hovered over me, along with my mother, Renee and Colin, who was wearing a tee shirt with a tuxedo iron-on in the front.

“Gilly, seriously. I thought you were having some kind of epileptic episode,” Colin said.

“You’d have to be an epileptic, to have an epileptic episode, stupid,” Renee growled.

“Well, you never know,” Colin defended himself.

“Enough, shut up Colin, I just got light headed that’s all. I’m not used to being around so many people in such a confined space. I think I got claustrophobic, that’s all.” I lied smoothly. I saw the look on Renee’s face, she wasn’t buying it.

“Do you feel well enough to go back to the party?” my father asked.

“Not really Dad. Do you think Renee could drive me home?” I looked at him, pleading.

“Gilly, the party is for you. How is it going to look to Daddy’s clients if the guest of honor skips out on them?” Here we go again. She is always worried about what other’s think.

“Jill honey, she still looks pale. Maybe it’s a good idea to let her go home and…”

“No, no Dad. I’ll stay. But I’m leaving early, especially if this feeling doesn’t go away,” I warned them.

“See, she’s fine Jack. Let’s get back to our guests before they start talking,” she grabbed a hold of his hand and started yanking him towards the door.

Amazing, she managed to make me feel guilty about fainting. What a piece of work.

“So what happened?” Renee asked when we were finally alone.

“Rob’s ex-fiancée told me they are getting back together,” I said, rubbing my forehead.

“Rob’s what?” Her mouth was hanging open already. “He was engaged?”

“Yeah, very engaged and very rich. He told me what happened between them and how she had hurt him. But, he is the stupid one for going back,” I shrugged, trying to hide the sudden anxiety and pain I feel in my chest.

I felt so stupid for believing for even a second that he really cared about me the way he said he did. I was the rebound; the next girl to come along and mend up the pieces while he waits for his true love to return.

Stupid, completely and utterly stupid.

“So what happened with Skeet? He walked out of the party with his head down and didn’t even say bye,” she asked. The curiosity evident in her face.

“We had a fight, that’s all,” I looked down at my hands, trying to hold myself together.

“Ahh, he told you how he felt, huh?” I looked at her, dubiously.

“You knew?” I could feel the blood flowing to my cheeks, staining them a deep crimson.

“You didn’t?” she snorted. “Gilly, we all know about it. We all have known about it for years now. We just figured it was up to him to make a move.” She looked at me, moving my hair out of my face. “Guess he picked the wrong time to do it, didn’t he?”

“I guess,” I said, flinching, the pained look in Skeet’s eyes was still fresh in my memory.

“Hey, guess who’s here,” Colin said excitedly.

“Who?” Renee asked and I heard a gasp escape her lips. I looked up at the doorway and saw Rob, standing there, looking dashing in his tuxedo. A smile creased my face for a second, then the reality of what happened before I hit the floor had me feeling dizzy all over again.

“Gilly, sweetie, are you okay?” He came up to me, a corsage in his hand. “Your dad told me you fainted,” he said, touching my forehead.

“Do you need me?” Renee asked, hesitantly.

“No, I’m good,” I said, wryly.

“Okay, well I’d better get back to Miles. And you,” she pointed her finger in Rob’s face, “best you not upset her anymore than you already have.”

“Pardon me?” He looked confused.

“Renee, I got this. Thanks though,” I smiled and grabbed her hand before she rose up off the sofa. She pulled her middle and ring finger against her palm, leaving only her thumb, forefinger and pinky up and swooped her hand under and above; our international ‘I love you friend’ sign we made up when we were kids.

I followed her lead, pulling my hand over my heart. She left the office, pulling Colin along, closing the door behind her.

“What’s going on?” Rob looked at me dubiously.

“So who’s the corsage for, your girlfriend?” I scowled at him.

“As the matter of fact, it is. Happy birthday.” He leaned forward to kiss my cheek, but I quickly pulled away from him. His look was hurt filled. This pleased me tremendously.

“Gilly, what’s going on? Its not like you to be this cold.” He touched my cheek with his right hand. I wanted to break every finger on his stupid hand one by one.

“So guess who’s here.” I stared at him, coldly.

“Who?” I searched his face, and he seemed to be genuinely confused. But I wasn't in the trusting mood right now so I continued my glaring.

“Samantha Burgess.” I watched his face turn pale.

“What is she doing here?” he asked, nervously.

“Her father is one of my dad’s clients. She said she came to my party, because you told her you would meet her here,” I could hear my voice shaking with rage. I was definitely more that butt-hurt over this.

“She told you that.” He looked at me sardonically.

“Yes, she did. She also mentioned that you called her this afternoon; is that true?” I saw the answer written all over his face.

“It’s not what you think,” he started and I stopped him before he could continue to explain how he had the audacity to show up to my party after calling that tree-sized freak.

“Look, I have had enough heartache today to last me a lifetime. It would be different if I hadn’t lost Skeet, maybe I could forgive this. But, I chose you over my best friend. And even though you were not aware of that fact, I did it just the same. I made a huge mistake trusting you and for that, I will have to find it in my own heart to forgive myself for my stupidity leak. But, I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that this skeezer is here at my party, telling me that you all are going to try to make a go of it again. This is one less thing I need in my life.” I rose up off the sofa and adjusted my dress, swallowing the hurt and guilt that swam in my mouth like bitter fruit. “Consider this conversation my resignation. I won’t be going back to work anymore.”

“Gilly, wait…please,” his voice was shaking, tears swimming in his eyes.

“Bye Rob,” I whispered as I walked out of the room.

Everything went back to the way it was after the party. The only difference was, Skeet and I had not spoken to each other since that wretched day. I felt sick to the core every time I saw him walking to school by himself. I tried to fight his resistance and called him several times over the course of the last month. But he never answered the phone. Damn caller I.D.

Rob called relentlessly, begging me to forgive him over my answering machine. I did have my own phone line and he took advantage of that fact. I usually keep my ringer off now, all day and night. He sent me apologetic e-mails, begging me to come back to work and to hear him out.

After about three weeks, the calls and e-mails stopped. I figured he went back to his life with Samantha, leaving me with the memories of how a guy should treat a girl. Minus the whole ex-fiancée thing.

The only relationship that had not changed was mine and Renee’s. She seemed to be keeping a very close eye on me lately. I think she has it in her head I might hang myself from a shower curtain rod or something. I’m not depressed enough for that, however, I have considered taking an aerobics class. That might qualify me as suicidal, considering my horrible reputation for falling on my face. Regardless, I am not that bad off.

I have found another job, this time at a Best Buy; electronics are my life. I kept quiet about it at school. My parents were not to happy about the switch in careers, but it really wasn’t their place to say anything. I am working and paying my car insurance. That’s all they need to know.

There is a guy at work who has tried flirting with me. I am not interested, that goes without saying. But he is relentless and it is starting to annoy me. I have sworn off guys for a while. I have no intention of sailing my ship in the opposite direction, if you get my drift, but I don’t want a relationship right now. It still hurts too much.

Christmas is in two days and Renee and I decided to do some last minute shopping at the mall. I wanted to buy Dillon a couple of new movies and toys. I also wanted to find everyone else gifts as well.

“Gilly, dude, you’re totally bumming me out,” Renee snapped at me. She glared at me over her cheeseburger. “You need to stop brooding and do something about your funk. It’s making everyone’s holiday cheer, less cheery.” She slurped her soda through a straw, noisily.

I watched people, passing by with bags of unwrapped gifts in their hands, from my seat at the food court. I felt the ache coming in again at full speed. I never knew anything could hurt this bad, I curse the hormones that lead to this egregious situation.

“Hey, look who it is,” Renee said suddenly. I followed her stare to The Great American Cookie Co., where Skeet was purchasing his usual Snickerdoodle cookie.

“Let’s get out of here, okay,” I said, throwing my trash and pushing my chair in.

“That’s it,” Renee said, childishly stomping her foot, “this stops now.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards Skeet. I felt like an unwilling puppy, dragging my feet as she pulled me by a leash.

“Skeet, this is Gilly. Gilly, this is Skeet,” she began sarcastically. “Now kiss and make-up; I’m tired of seeing the both of you so depressed. It’s frustrating me to death.” She stormed off towards The Gap, leaving me to fend for myself.

There was an awkward silence, as expected. But for once, I wasn’t the first one to break it.

“So, how’ve you been?” he asked.

“Fine, I guess,” I said nervously. It was weird feeling like this around him. I can’t remember a time when I ever felt nervous or uncomfortable around Skeet. He was my best friend after all, I could tell him anything.

“That’s good.” And there was more silence. We both looked around the food court, not sure of what to say next.

“Well,” I said as I gave up on any form of conversation. “I better go find Renee. It was good to see you; Later.” I walked away, pulling the hood of my black, cotton jacket over my pony-tailed hair.

“Gilly, wait.” I turned around at the sound of my name. I hadn’t heard my name said in his familiar voice in so long, it sent the ache in my gut spiraling out of control.

“Yeah,” I said, my eyes on my sneakers.

“I’m sorry, this sucks. I really miss you.” Finally the words that I had been longing to hear. Only, I was angry; very angry at him for ditching me the way he did.

“Well, I tried to call. But I guess you were too busy wallowing in self pity, to return my phone calls, or even pick it up to begin with. We’ve been friends forever Skeet, and all of a sudden, when you don’t get what you want, you bail? How fair is that?”

“It’s not,” he said, looking at his shoes. “And I’m sorry for that. I wasn’t really angry with you. I was angry with myself for waiting so long. I really do want you to be happy, Gilly. I just wanted you to be happy with me. It was selfish and I’m sorry, but-I really miss our friendship. Can we please be friends again?” I laughed at his second grade attempt to rekindle our friendship. The face he made, a whiny, bratty sort of begging, didn’t help me in my attempt to keep a straight face either.

“Yeah, I missed you too.” I felt his arms wrap around me and the warm tears flowed freely. This was the best Christmas gift I could ever receive.

“So,” he started when he let go, “how are you and Rob?”

“I broke it off at my party. Apparently, he was still involved with his ex-girlfriend. I was just a pawn in their stupid little game.” I shrugged.

“Oh, sorry about that,” his eyes really held true empathy. “I know you really liked him.”

“Yeah well, it was sort of dumb to think he would really have feelings for me. He is older and sophisticated, not to mention gorgeous. I am just a frumpy, stupid little girl who got lucky for a little while. I guess no one wins them all,” I said as we walked towards The Gap to meet Renee.

“Gilly, you are not frumpy. You know, the one thing that has always irritated me about you, is your inability to see yourself for what you are. A beautiful, smart, funny girl who is also a great friend. You really need a wake up call.” He shook his head, looking at the ground as we walked.

“Thanks for the compliments, but facts are facts. I’m not the girl who dresses in designer clothes and wears heels and make-up. This,” I said, showcasing my jeans, J.F.K. tee shirt and black hoodie, “is who I am. Nothing more, nothing less.”

He snorted, making me laugh in the process. It got quiet again so I started with the twenty questions.

“So, anything new with you?”

“Maybe,” he started. “I met a girl at work. We hit it off, and well, I have a date with her tonight. Thought I might try it out, see how it goes.” I bit my lip, trying very hard not to smile. I was happy for him, of course. But Skeet, on a date? It was a bit laughable. I’m sure he would have done the same if our roles were reversed.

“Congratulations, I’m sure it’ll go well.” I smirked, wagging my eyebrows.

“Shut up,” he chuckled, kicking an empty Styrofoam cup out of his way.

“So, what are you doing for Christmas Eve?” he asked.

“Party at my house,” I took in a lungful of air. “Jill is on a party kick. I guess it’s just as well.” I put my hands in the pockets of my hoodie, pushing my fists against the fabric.

“Well, I’m going to San Angelo for the holidays; grandma’s house.”

“Hope you have fun, and be sure to say hi to her for me. Tell her I miss her too. I haven’t seen your grandma in ages,” I said.

“Sure. I better get going, big date and all that,” he said, finally looked at me. “Call you when I get back tonight?” His tone was hopeful.

“Of course! I want a play by play of the nights events. Don’t hold out on me either, I want all the juicy details.” I smirked, playfully punching his arm.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll call you tonight.” He leaned over and wrapped his arms around me again, sending me on an emotional high. I had my best friend back. I know it will never be the same between us again, but at least I could hear the sound of his voice when I needed a pick me up, when I needed his company. Thank God for his little favors.

After I got home from shopping, I went upstairs to wrap the gifts I had purchased with my hard earned money. I finally felt some peace for the first time in weeks and I began whistling Christmas carols of all things. It is completely idiotic, but I can’t fight the happiness I feel. I got my Christmas wish; well, one of them at least.

That was until my mother came in with her list of demands.

“Gilly, I need you to watch Dillon while I go out and get some last minute things for the party tomorrow. I also need you to clean the house and make dinner. I won’t be home until well after Dad gets here, and I’m sure he’ll be starving. And I also want you to go back to the mall tomorrow and buy a dress, shoes and accessories for the party.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?” I was already annoyed.

“Nothing,” she scoffed, “if have just wondered out of a mental institution.”

After everything that had happened, my mother has managed to keep her radiant personality in check. It was all I could do to keep from slamming her in the head with my pillow.

“No,” I said, simple and to the point.

“What?” Her tone was surprised mixed with angry.

“No. I’m not doing anything for you, anymore. I’ll watch Dillon, but I won’t clean and cook dinner. I won’t go to the mall and buy something I am uncomfortable in just to please you. You have been pushing me to far, Mom. Haven’t you noticed I’ve been walking around like a zombie for the last month and a half? Do you even care?” I could feel my hands shaking and of course, my cheeks were on fire.

“Listen young lady, as long as you’re under my roof, you’ll do what I say,” she glared at me. Now she was trying to be an authority figure? I don’t think so.

“No, you listen. I am your daughter. I am not a maid or personal assistant or babysitter. Hell, I’m not even your chef. Why can’t you just leave me alone and let me finish my gift wrapping?” It has taken years to get to this point. The anger and contempt I felt towards my parents, my mother especially, was boiling to the surface. It was raising it’s ugly head and baring it’s sharp, pointy teeth. I watched the dumbfounded look on her face, which quickly turned to anger.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I don’t like your attitude. I assume Rob broke up with you, and that is not our fault. Don’t punish us because you can’t keep a boyfriend.” Oh that was it. I was on my feet already.

“Oh man. Of course, you would automatically assume Rob dumped me. For your information, mother dearest, I dumped him. And I also lost Skeet for a while, a fact I am sure you know nothing about because if it doesn’t have anything to do with shopping, manicures or money, you aren’t interested.” My eyes were burning with rage and tears. “I know you think I’m some ugly, indecent, good for nothing little girl that you are stuck with, and that you think I was put on this earth to serve you. I’m not a statue, those looks of disappointment and disgust stay permanently seared in my brain. Thanks for the confidence boost.” I sat back down on the floor, in front of the wrapping paper and gifts. I looked down, not letting her see the traitor tears of anger that were spilling down my cheeks.

“Gilly, I never said you were ugly,” she said, squatting in front of me looking hurt and confused. “Is that what you think? Is that what you believe about me? That I could be so callous as to think that you are nothing to look at?”

I nodded, not meeting her eyes.

“I guess I have a lot of explaining to do.” She sat on the floor in her expensive jeans and heels.

“I know we aren’t close, and I suppose I have a lot to do with that. But honey, I would never think those horrible things about you. You are beautiful, inside and out. And as far as the cleaning, cooking and babysitting goes, well the only explanation I can give you is that I am horrible at it. We count on you because we are well aware of your capability to run this house hold all by yourself.,” She looked down at her hands, and I noticed her bottom lip quivering.

“As far as Dillon goes, I know God blessed you with the gift of motherly instincts. I just don’t seem to have them.” Now the tears were flowing down her face. I started to pick my hand up, to put it on her shoulder, but instead I kept it to myself.

“I was never really loved when I was a little girl, Gilly. My mother and father worked very hard for what they had; but they were so tired at the end of the day, they never found the time to show me any affection,” she sniffled, wiping her nose with one of my dirty shirts from my hamper. I wanted to tell her so many different things. I was still angry about the way she talked to me-how much she has hurt me over the years. However, I suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion hit me. So, I let her explain the misery of what was her life.

“My mother and I were always at odds with each other. I was very strong willed and I thought I could make it without my parents. I hated being poor; I feel bad sometimes now thinking about my mother. I hated her for not having enough so I could be decent and have people accept me.” She looked up at the ceiling, as if she were watching a movie in her big, blonde head.

“When I was about your age, I looked nothing like you. I was scrawny, with short, blonde hair cut in irregular tufts, thanks to my parents. They couldn’t afford to let me get a normal and pretty haircut like the other girls. They cut my hair with a pair of rusty kitchen shears.” She chuckled darkly.

“I remember crying every night; praying that God take me away from the town, from the house I hated so much. I went through junior high with relentless teasing. There was this one boy, I’ll never forget him, Jason Van Der Bock. He was the most handsome guy in the school and of course I was totally besotted. I used to write his name and mine together inside my folders, where no one could see.” She smiled for a second, then it faltered, as another painful memory seemed to seep in after this one.

“One day, Sissy Lancaster, the most popular girl in school got a hold of it and passed it around the entire student body. To save face, Jason came up to me and yelled in my face that I was an ugly, flat as a wall, hair like a Pomeranian poodle girl who he wouldn’t be caught dead with. He pushed me to the ground and left me crying, picking up the books that he had fallen out of my arms. I cried all the way home. I could hear the rich kids calling me names behind my back as they followed me to my parent’s run down house.”

I stared at my mother, shocked beyond belief. This is not the image I had of her in my already frazzled mind. But suddenly, I was aware of the fact that something seemed off about her story. Something didn’t make sense.

“Uh Mom, I thought grandma and grandpa were rich.” I frowned, confused.

“We were not always rich, Gilly. Grandma Margaret’s father had done very well in stocks. He was miserly though. He never helped us with a dime. Not for food, shelter, clothing or any other need. But, when he died, he left his fortune to his only daughter. The summer of my freshman year in high school, we inherited the money and overnight I was a wealthy teenager. We were Nuevo Riche, and my mother bought me everything she could think of to make me happy. I think she was trying to make up for all the horrible years I had to endure as a ‘tween. I grew my hair out, bought the best clothes, shoes, purses. I swore that I would never be poor again.”

She grabbed my hand and held it against her cheek. The warm, saltwater that flowed from her eyes, stained her dark blue designer jeans as they fell.

“Gilly, I know you think I am a ditzy, good for nothing that loves nothing more than to shop and lay around the house eating bonbons all day. It really may seem that way from the outside. But the truth is, I have everything I swore I would when I was a kid. And sometimes, looking at you, makes me angry. I don’t want anyone tormenting you, the way they did me growing up.” She stared at me, pleading for understanding.

“I wanted you to be popular, to have what I didn’t growing up. I wanted you to be in with the “in” crowd. It was always because I couldn’t stand the thought of your torment.

“I was very popular from sophomore year until graduation; I was happy to finally be accepted. It’s like the old Jill never existed in the first place. I just want you to have the best of everything, and you seem to be the exact opposite of what I was hoping from you. Can you see, now, why I push you so hard to dress up and be the best? Can you see what I am really trying to do, and why I do it?”

I bit my lower lip, contemplating her words. I did see, now, that all of what I saw as ridiculous about her, was learned from the suffering she endured as a child. I never would have thought that my mother ever had a problem with her looks. I understand now, the obsessive reason behind her keeping fit and looking perfect. She is so afraid to be that scraggly little Jill again. My heart ached for the first time for the woman who gave birth to me. For Jill; for my mother.

“I understand Mom. But you have to understand something too,” I began, softly. “This is who I am, like it or not. I don’t need popularity to fit in with any group. I happen to be well liked by everybody. And I have never had any problems with anyone in particular. I’m a fighter, Mom; I wouldn’t let anybody pick on me and get away with it.” with the exception of one, tree-sized freak. “I’ve got McNeill blood coursing through my veins.” She laughed as she wiped the tears away from her eyes.

“That is the one thing I suppose I should be grateful for; a daughter who can hold her own.”

I joined her in laughing and then she surprised me when she pulled me into an unbreakable embrace. My mother, the ostentatious, overzealous lady that had tormented me most of my teenage life, had never hugged me like this. I accepted her arms and reveled in them.

“Hey Mom,” I began, as she let me go and walked towards the door. “Whatever happened to that jerk that pushed you down?”

“Oh Jason,” she smirked. “Well, he chased me around from sophomore through senior year. When he finally caught up to me one day, I told him-in front of a large group of people- that I would never be interested in a lowly, fat, ugly, good for nothing jock who couldn’t catch a football to save his life.” She smiled, exultant at the thought.

“You didn’t,” I covered my mouth, trying to tone down the image of my mother telling the fat, jock shmuck off.

“I sure did, and it felt great,” she continued to smile and winked at me. “Every dog has it’s day, Gilly, and the Pomeranian poodle got hers.”

It was hard to wipe the smile off my face, as I wrapped the rest of the gifts, to put under the tree. I wasn’t budging on my wardrobe, even though she begged. But, I have something decent in the closet to wear for tomorrow; I won’t embarrass her.

Mom is right, every dog has it’s day, and I am certain my day will come, eventually.

I stayed with Dillon while my mother went out to grab some last minute things she needed for the party tomorrow. I made dinner for them, Irish stew, which is what Granny used to make every Christmas. It has lamb, potatoes and onions. Of course I added carrots and celery, just to give it a little of my own influence.

Dad’s eyes about bulged out of his head when he found out what I had made for dinner. It is his favorite meal, it reminds him of his mother and father. He really misses them, especially since it will be the first Christmas without Granny herself. Grandpa died from a massive heart attack four years ago. We kept the traditions alive, but now with Granny gone, it is hard to make her specialties without shedding a tear.

After three helpings of the stew, Dad brought the bowl to the sink and amazed me by putting it, along with mine and Dillon’s, in the dishwasher. Mom was still not back from running errands. So she hasn’t had a chance to sample my latest creation.

“Gilly, that was the best meal I have ever had. It was even better than Granny McNeill’s,” he said, rubbing his inflated stomach. “She would be so proud of you.” He touched my nose with his forefinger and I lovingly rolled my eyes.

“Thanks Dad, I’m glad you liked it.”

We sat on the couch and watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas with Dillon. I had made him some hot chocolate and gave him a gingerbread cookie that we had made together earlier in the day. Being away from him so often now, made me realize how much I really loved the little monster. He is the one person who doesn’t judge me, who loves me unconditionally. I’m really grateful for that.

“Hey, honey,” my dad started during a commercial. Dillon demanded complete silence during the cartoon.

“Yeah Dad?” I waited for his question.

“What really happened between you and Rob?” I looked at him, stunned that he noticed Rob’s absence. He didn’t seem to notice much in the way of my personal life.

“Oh, uh- it’s complicated.” I said, hoping to avoid the subject.

“Gilly, I know he’s older than you, but I really liked him. I thought you did too.” He searched my face for an answer I wasn't ready to give. I really had not spoken about him in a long time.

every time someone asked, I would just give quick, simple answers. No breakup details.

“I did, but-well- he didn’t like me the same way.” I smiled glumly at him, then focused my attention on the cartoon. That was until I heard his snort.

“Are you kidding? That boy was head over heels for you! Your mother and I were already looking at wedding announcements!” He let out a throaty string of guffaws.

“Okay Dad, it’s not funny.” I was becoming annoyed by his unrefined bursts of laughter.

“Honey, whatever it was, it had nothing to do with him not liking you. Who do you think helped with the party arrangements and invitations for your birthday?”

I felt like an idiot, having to explain the situation behind my reason for breaking it off. But if I was going to get Dad off my back, it seemed a necessary evil.

“Dad, do you know Samantha Burgess?”

“Yeah, Sam’s daughter, sure. What about her?”

“Well, as it turns out, she is Rob’s ex-fiancée. And at my party, she told me that he was supposed to meet her there and that they were going to try to patch things up. I stepped aside. I didn’t need my feelings hurt anymore than they already had been,” I admitted, folding my arms across my chest, and focusing on a speck of black lint on the beige carpet.

I have managed to tune out most of the pain he had caused me. But reliving it now, and with my father no less, I was feeling it all over again.

My father stayed quiet for a minute. Trying to absorb the newest information I suppose. But, when he finally did speak, it was something I wasn’t prepared for.

“I was wondering what that was all about.” I could almost see the light bulb going on above his head. Of course, I have no idea what he was talking about.

“What do you mean, what that was all about?” I could feel my eyebrows pulling together, a usual sign of confusion.

“The night of the party, after you rejoined us, I walked out to the parking lot with Dave Vogel, to have a cigar. I noticed Rob fighting with a tall, strawberry blonde girl next to his truck. It’s only now that you mention Sam’s daughter, that I realize who it was he was arguing with.” He sighed. “He looked so angry. She kept trying to touch him; wrap her arms around him or something, but he would push her away and eventually he got into his truck and drove off. Like a bat out of hell, I might add.” He squirmed around in his seat, looking directly at me.

I kept silent for along time. I just didn’t have anything to say.

“Honey, it is obvious that Samantha is brutally jealous of you. That is why she told you all those lies,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“Dad, how do you she was lying? What if she was telling the truth? I confronted him about the phone call he had supposedly made to her the afternoon of my party. It was apparent that wasn’t a lie. Why shouldn’t I believe anything else she told me? After all, it was always wrong. We didn’t fit together; he’s to good for me.” One single tear strolled down my cheek. I could still see his face in my mind. The absolution of the detail in which I had confronted him. It is still so fresh; so insanely fresh.

His blue eyes, sparkling with strangled tears. The pleading look in them, that made my heart ache to touch him. It is so strange, the hold he had on me; the hold he has still.

I spend most nights, that I allow the memories to fill me, curled up in a ball. Desperately trying, but to no avail, to alleviate the pain that claws its way through me. Memories of the way his hand felt in mine; the way he put his hand on the small of my back and led me into a room. How much I loved his smile and how sweet his cherry flavored lips tasted the first time we kissed.

Each memory that flashed through my mind, each painful reminder that squirmed its way out of my memory, helped to season the pain.

The only way to describe this feeling, the only way to show how much this hurts, is to describe losing the person you care about most in the world. Knowing they are still around somewhere. Waiting for a moment to catch a glimpse of them, wondering if they are longing for you the way you are longing for them. It’s almost hollow, a black ache that I keep in the pit of my stomach. Because if I allow it to make its way into my heart, that would be the end of me.

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” I announced after I had rummaged through my head for any differences I could remember of that horrible day’s events.

“Good night, honey.” My father leaned over and kissed my forehead. I could see the understanding in his eyes. The yearning to fix whatever was broken inside me.

But this was unfixable; too broken to put back together again. I used to think I would be grateful for Rob, for what I now know I wanted from a relationship.

I had been foolish to assume I could walk away from the ending of my first relationship unscathed. I went upstairs and decided to take a hot shower. It was time to wash the agony away for the night.

I stared at the clock on my nightstand. I was frustrated that it was only eight o’clock. I had blow-dried my hair in hopes of avoiding pneumonia. I put on some red plaid pajamas Dillon had picked out for me to wear for Christmas. My mother knew if I found out Dillon had chose them, I would wear them. I curled up on my bed, feeling the cool fabric of my pillow against my cheek.

I stared around the room, looking around at the violet walls that surrounded it. I gazed at the posters of my favorite bands, pictures of me with Renee, Skeet and Colin at different points in my life. Pictures of Dillon and me; my father and me; Granny McNeill and me, all strewn around my room. Reminders of my past and present relationships, some of which I still hold on to like a lion in a cage.

I stared at the picture of Granny and me hugging each other; how happy we were. My heart ached in a different way now. I missed her, so much I couldn’t breathe. I lifted myself off the bed and walked over towards the picture, taking it from its resting place. This is the same picture she had on her nightstand when she was alive. I was her favorite, probably because I always listened to her.

I flipped the frame over and slid the cardboard out of it; there were layers of blank papers in there. When I finally got to the last one, the last piece before the picture, I noticed black ink through the backside of the beige paper. I set the frame aside, opening it up and reading the words written on it. I gasped, lifting my hand to my mouth, stunned beyond comprehension. The words Dear Gilly, caught my attention immediately.

“I love you too Granny,” I whispered to her. I pulled the picture from the frame and held it to my heart, blinking away the tears. I smiled to myself as I put the picture back on the shelf.

It seems I really was a fool after all. What if my father is right and Samantha was lying? And I foolishly let go of the first person I have ever loved. Yes, loved; I loved him. I still love him.

Oy, what have I done!

I scrambled to the closet and grabbed my thickest coat. I flew down the stairs and yanked the keys from my purse, grabbing that as well.

“Where are you going?” my mother asked, surprised, as I flew past her.

“To fix what’s broken,” I said yanking my jacket on and stumbling into the Nike’s I left next the kitchen door that leads to the garage.

I saw my father saunter into the kitchen, lovingly wrapping his arms around my mother.

“Go get him, honey,” he smiled at me, winking. My mother’s beaming smile made me feel warm inside. She knew where I was headed, and she approved.

“Wish me luck!” I waved and yelled as I ran out the garage door towards my car. I jumped in and revved the engine, almost peeling out of the driveway. I speed down the street, yelling at the slow pokes that seemed to be in no rush to get anywhere.

I noted it was bitterly cold outside as I lowered the window to breathe in the night air; the adrenaline pumping through my veins, filling me with a rush of exhilaration. Flashes of his smile, his eyes, the way his hands looked folded against his chin. Whispered memories of the way he breathed my nickname the day he kissed me for the first time.

My foot felt like a lead weight as I zoomed passed the cars that seemed unidentifiable in the rush of my thoughts. My arms were tingling, in anticipation. My hands ached to touch him again, my eyes burned to see him. I felt my lips curl up over my teeth; a smile I hadn’t felt myself give in what seemed like forever. I pushed myself further, faster, honing in on my destination. The lights of the Buy the Game parking lot seemed to shine brighter tonight.

My tires squealed as I hurriedly pulled into the parking lot. I caught sight of him, locking the front door, turning the lights off. I watched for a second, frozen in place, fear slithering through me like a snake.

Get out of the car, Gilly. Tell him, tell him the truth. Let him in. Cut out the fear crap and let him in.

With the last light extinguished, I flew from my car, running towards the glass door of the building. I banged on it, fervently, desperately hoping he had not left yet.

When he didn’t come to the door, I felt the ache creep up again. I wasn’t sure I’d ever have the nerve to open up and let myself go like this again. It felt final, so over; a regrettable and existential addition to my misery.

Fear, is a large word in retrospect. It can kill dreams and dash hopes, leaving you with nothing but pain and regret. I was so fearless with every other aspect of my life, every one but giving my heart over to someone else to hold. I am not the girl who loses herself to one person; not the girl who falls in love. No, I’m the girl who loathes the cheesiness of romance and hates public displays of affection.

I could stand here all day and pretend that somewhere deep inside, I was still that girl. But she’s gone; won over by a beautiful stranger who was willing to take care of her heart.

And I let him go.

I bit back the tears of loss and breathed in a lungful of the bitter cold winter air, letting it pierce my lungs and nostrils like frozen needles.

I turned and walked towards my car, feeling the cold wind bite at my cheeks, as I wrapped my arms around myself. I didn’t hear the snap of the lock; I didn’t see the light come on again.

“Gillian?” I heard his voice, the voice I had been longing to hear for weeks now.

I spun around, in what felt like slow motion, searching for the voice- the melodious song of my heart.

“What are you doing here?” And there he was, perfect and beautiful. An angel in a plaid, flannel shirt.

“I…I…had to see you,” I said, walking towards him, slowly, in my Christmas pajamas and coat.

“Why?” He sounded angry. I stayed frozen for a second, knowing he had every right to be.

“I need to tell you something,” I said, walking even closer still, my arms folded securely across my chest. I watched, amazed as he matched each of my steps, bringing him closer towards me.

“What?” He was looking at me, angry, his eyes blazing.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have listened to Samantha. I should have let you speak; tell me what was really going on. But,” I paused, frozen in place, as did he.

“But?” His tone was biting and frigid. I flinched at the sound.

“It’s just that-I never thought…I never thought I deserved you. I thought you were too good for me. It was easier to believe what I saw as obvious, rather than the truth, that was in front of me. I’m sorry; I swear, I never meant to hurt you.” I took a shy step towards him, waiting for his rebuff. It was what I deserved, what I would have expected myself to do in his place.

“When you, without actually saying so, admitted you had called her…what did you expect me to think?” I shook my head, hoping he would understand the blow I took with his admission to contacting the ex-love of his life.

“I called her, because she called me first. Somehow, she found out I was working here and called, asking for me. I didn’t know who it was. Tanya said someone had called for me and I returned the phone call, that’s it.” He shook his head, his eyes narrowing at the thought. “I realized it was her, and I told her that I had found someone else and I had no interest in talking to her ever again,” he scoffed.

“I should have let you explain, I’m sorry. It’s just, she is so beautiful and sophisticated; everything I am not. And you were in love with her, I couldn’t compete with that.” I felt the sting in my eyes again.

“There was never anything to compete with. She was what I thought I wanted, a long time ago. She was never who I needed.” He sighed loudly, throwing his arms up in the air.

“Please, can you understand?”

“Yes, I can, but Gillian, you cut me out of your life; just like that. You did it without listening to reason, with no explanations. I tried to tell you; tried to beg you. I can’t be that guy again. I won’t do it, I’m sorry.” I watched as he turned back towards the building. Every muscle in my body screaming to stop him; but the fear was winning, just as it always has.

“Rob, wait! Please, don’t go,” I became hopeful when he paused at the door. I could see his breath in the cold air, floating into the sky like puffs of smoke, as I waited, his back still turned to me.

“I know I acted like a stupid little girl,” I took a careful step forward. “But I was scared; scared to be made a fool of,” I took another weary step towards him. “I realize now, that it isn’t about the past, and mistakes that were made. It’s about the future and what hope there is for it.” Another step, I was almost there.

“Don’t do this,” he pleaded. “I can’t…I don’t want that feeling…that hurt; not ever again.”

“I’m sorry, but if there is ever a moment in my life I regret the most, it is the day I walked away from you. I’m so sorry; please, understand that I was scared.” I could see the distinct patterns of his plaid shirt now. I was right behind him, arms folded across my chest, wanting so badly to touch him.

“I was scared too Gillian. I have made a lot of mistakes in my life, but you were the one right decision I made. And you took it away from me” He shook his head, fighting reason; his desire to turn and face the cause of his new torment. “I’m not sure I could survive that again; I know I can’t. I’m sorry.” He kept his back to me, opening the glass door, ready to walk out of my life forever.

“Robert Schneider, I love you.” I felt my bottom lip ready to tear from the cold, as I sunk my teeth into it. “It’s hard for me to admit, but I do.” He seemed frozen in place, his hand grasping the metal doorway. I could see his breathing becoming erratic, from behind him, where I stood- praying for a miracle.

“Please…I don’t know what else to say.” My voice shook with real fear. The fear of losing the only person I had ever loved, the only person that ever made the butterflies dance around my soul.

“Say it again,” he asked, in a hoarse, shaky whisper.

“I love you,” I whispered, waiting, my head down.

“Again.”

“I-I love you.” I raised my voice, hearing my words echo against the buildings that surrounded us.

The heaven’s seemed to part, when he turned towards me, smiling. His eyes dancing in the glow of the lamp post.

“I love you too, Gilly McNeill.” It was almost dreamlike. The way he took the last step towards me, his eyes hungry. I felt the relief wash over me, wave after exquisite wave, with each stroke of his lips against mine. The rush of emotions that flooded through me as he lifted me in his arms and spun me around, pulling me into a rabid embrace. Setting me down finally, he put both hands against my wintery cheeks, slowly pulling me in, parting his lips…answering my prayers.

This kiss, the whole of my existence, the reason I was born; was for the diary of my mind. Sealing it up tight, locking it into place, never to be forgotten. I felt the rocking as we danced under the snow flurries that began to fall.

I never thought, at any point in my life, I would become one of those girls who’s heart belongs to someone else. I always believed in sense and reason, seeing love as a never-ending burden, something to be given and never received. Now looking into the eyes of my first love, I can’t imagine anything feeling so right; so true.

I waited impatiently, outside in the sweltering heat, hoping and praying that things would not be as bad as they seemed. Where was the justice in the world? How can one person change you so profoundly, that everything else you ever believed seemed to just melt away? If we existed in a plane of time continuum, where we could chose to go back and change things, would I really go back and change the events that led me to where I am today? Would I give up the one person that had become the whole of my existence? I wasn't sure of anything anymore. All I knew, was that I was sitting in this little red compact car, hoping to God, she wasn’t already dead.

It is common knowledge that nobody gets everything they want; I happen to be living proof of that. But, even though life has given me a bunch of rotten lemons, I choose to make rotten lemonade. It’s just doing the best with what you got.

I am by no means optimistic, but I do hold out for hope. That is what sets me apart from the rest of my friends. I can’t be certain, but I think if I were born in a different life, I might make the same mistakes I have made in this one.

No one can be sure on what plans wait for them in the long run. I still hold out hope, that one day; someone will find my quirkiness irresistible.

For this, I am completely pessimistic…