Luke

2

Luke

 

I sat and watched. Wait no, I stared. I sat and stared at her from my bedroom window. Her long brown wavy hair sway as she talked to her mom. I can tell how uninterested she is in the conversation by the way she’s standing. She’s got her right hand in her back right pocket of those jeans I watched her pick off of the floor this morning, and she’s crinkling her freckled nose every few seconds, she’s clearly uncomfortable. I should have said hello to her this morning. But I tell myself I’ll do that very thing every day, I fear that instead of, “hello” coming out, I’ll accidentally say, “Cassie Marie, I am in love with you.”  So I hold back. I hold back from grabbing her tiny waist and pulling her into mine to kiss her (imaginably debatable) soft lips. I hold myself back from Cassie Marie in general. An eighteen year old boy like me can only hold so much confidence.

“Luke Daniels and Cassie Marie. No, Cassie Daniels. It sounds much better that way.” I muttered to myself as I shoved the essentials into my backpack, bottled water, flashlight, a pen, and my sketch notebook. I squeezed into my black hoodie and tightened my shoe laces. As I swung my backpack around my shoulders I made my way to the locked window.

A few minutes later I find myself in the front lawn right below Cassie’s window. I make my way back to my designated hiding spot, right at the stump of the ten foot some tall pine tree. I slide down as low as I can without actually lying flat on my back and I wait. And wait. And wait.

It seems as if maybe two hours have passed before I saw the flicker of her bedroom light. Finally, I assume she probably took a longer time with her dinner than usual. But it only makes sense considering that it’s her turn to clean the dishes. Damn it. I missed it again.

I love it when she puts her hair up like that. As much as I love how her hair lies on her shoulders, with it up it really shows off her petite facial structure. That cute little button nose of hers and thin dark eyebrows. I reached for my notebook and pen and immediately began to sketch the afternoon delights that lied in front of me.

I watched her turn on the music, The Ronettes, Be My Baby. I wonder what happened, I knew she liked the old stuff but she only plays it when she’s in that mood. That one mood where things get bad. Like really bad. I just want to climb up the side of her house and burst through the window just to hug her and tell her that everything is going to be alright. It’ll be okay. Just touch her face and calm her emotions, tell her that as long as I've got her in my arms, there’s nothing to worry about.

I have to hold back again.

Jesus this is killing me. You know that physical feeling where you’re not necessarily claustrophobic but you still feel like you can’t breathe because the weight of the world is just compressing down on your shoulders, that’s what it feels like to hold back from Cassie. Like the weight of all the Earth and Jupiter and all of the moons and galaxies and everything to exist is just pounding themselves on my heart.

I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone as much as I love this girl. I don’t think I’ve ever actually said more than ten words to her in the ten years I’ve known her, yet I seem to know every detail about her. I need to make a move. I’m done observing her from the outside. I need to be inside now. I yearn to know her thoughts, opinions, feelings, I need to know what makes her who she is. Why she prefers superman to iron man, strawberry ice cream opposed to chocolate or vanilla, tea to coffee. Who are you really Cassie Marie? Who do you dream of becoming one day? Who do you dream of?