Paper Lanterns

I didn't see anyone, so I turned to the right.
There stood Billie Joe; a pair of crutches helping him keep off his fractured ankle. His bruises were faded, and most of the cuts were gone.

"Billie Joe, what are you doing here?"

He came and sat beside me, setting his crutches on the ground.

"I'm here, because Grace, I bribed a freshman to rewrite and place notes I'd written into your locker."

It all started to make sense now.. Oh who am I kidding. No it didn't .

"Why? Why would you do something like that?" I asked, as I felt my breathing become uneven.

"Like what?" He had a concerned look on his face.

"Is this some sort of joke to get back at me or something?" I choked out, getting up.

"No, of course not! Why would you think that?"

"Why have you been acting so nice to me all of a sudden? Do you have some bet with Mike and Tre? A 'see how long it takes me to work my charm and get her into bed' type of thing?" I started to back away, still in the early stage of my panic attack.

"What's so hard to comprehend here, Grace? You're the high school graduate! Can't you see how obvious I've been? I like you! Way more than a friend," he told me, retrieving his crutches to follow.

"No. Billie. I- I need to be alone." I couldn't breathe, I felt overheated, dizzy, and like I was dying. Billie pulled me back to the bench, and engulfed me in a hug.

"Gray, you're having a panic attack. You need to try and calm down. Breath with me, okay?" He told me, rubbing my back gently.

I tried to steady my breathing, and ten minutes later I'd succeeded.

"I'm so sorry," I was so ashamed and embarrassed.

"It's alright, I get panic attacks too," he tried to comfort me.

"No. About what I said. I guess I find it a little hard to believe what you told me."

"Why?" his eyes held a curious gleam.

"Because not but two months ago, you hated me." I looked up to see his expression soften, and he pulled me up to face him, staring me straight in the eyes.

"Gray, I never hated you. I actually had the biggest crush on you in first, second, and third grade. Then I realized you'd never like me back."

"Well, that's where you're wrong, Beej," I smiled, and I quickly pressed my lips to his cheek. Once I'd pulled back, a huge grin spread across his face, his eyes sparkling with warmth and joy, and I saw his cheeks turn pink momentarily.

"Would you care to join me for dinner tonight?" he asked suddenly.

"Sure. When, and where, so I know how to dress."

"7:30, and just wear something nice."

"But where are you taking me?"

"That, my dear, is a secret," he grinned.

"Fine. Be that way," I huffed.

We got up, and began to slowly make our way back to the crowd of people still chatting and showing off their graduates.

"Have you been thinking about what you're gonna do?" he asked as we neared my father and Ollie. Mike and Tre had returned, and were talking amongst themselves.

"Nope," I smiled goofily.

"Hun, I have to get back to work," my father hugged me, "I'm so proud of my little girl!"

"Thanks Dad," I smiled, and he left for the parking lot with Ollie.

"Can we please get the hell outta here?!?!" Tre pleaded, and I laughed.

"Yeah, I need to get home. I'll see you tonight, Billie Joe," I said to him, and pecked his cheek before going to my car and going home.

I grabbed the mail from he box at the end of our driveway, and went inside to the kitchen.

"Bill, bill, coupons, aah. Here we go," I pulled out a rather heavy envelope addressed to me, from the registration office at UC San Diego.

Yep. I'd applied to several colleges; UCSD, UC Berkeley, and Southern Cal. I wasn't really sure if I wanted to go yet, but I figured having a spot would be nice if I decided to.

I read over the letter, 'Miss Steffens, we cannot wait to have you join our growing student body, and are sure that you will fit in with the incoming freshman class..'

That's right. They accepted. I set the letter and its other contents on my desk once I'd gotten
up to my room.

I lolled around until six thirty, when I took a shower, and began to get ready. I had a nice little cocktail party dress, and a pair of two inch strappy black heels.

Once I'd dried off, I got dressed. Makeup came next; the black eyeliner was a tad thicker than usual, and I used less mascara. I added a very light charcoal coloured eyeshadow to my upper lids.

I quickly ran a brush through my hair, blow dried to it's natural wavy curl, and pulled on my shoes. I grabbed my small black bag, with some cash, my ID, and chap stick, which I put on.

Now it was 7:30, and I was waiting in the hall.

7:45 came, but Billie did not.

At 8, the doorbell rang, and I opened the door. Billie looked great, as per usual, minus the redness in his face from lack of oxygen and crutches, dressed in a pair of very dark, possibly black jeans, a black and gray striped shirt, with a black jacket over it.

'Why is he dressed like its freezing out?'

"Hey," I greeted, stepping out as he gaped at me, his mouth hanging slightly open.

"It's not polite to stare," I sputtered nervously.

"Uh.. Sorry. It's just.. you look.."

"Awful? I know, it's the dress.. I knew it fit funny!" I silently cursed my judgment of cuteness on the dress.

"No, Grace, you look stunning. Absolutely gorgeous," he tried to find the words, as he opened the car door for me.

"Thanks," I blushed, hoping he didn't see as he got in with some difficulty.

"Are you sure you should be driving?"

"I'm fine, I swear."

"Alright.." I rolled my eyes at his stubbornness.

Within twenty minutes, Billie parked in a lot, and got out, retrieving his crutches.

"C'mon!" He led me towards a grassy field, where a blanket had been laid out, and take out boxes kept it down in the light breeze.

"Sit," he told me, so I did.

Once he sat, and began to dish out the Chinese food, I smiled, "Billie Joe, this is so.. endearing. I can't believe you did this."

"I'd do anything for you," I heard him under his breath. My smile only widened, as I looked out across the bay at the shimmering lights of San Francisco.