Taking Chances

I pulled on my worn Converse hastily as I flew out the door, running towards the park down the street. I had a foolish grin on my face as I pulled my down jacket tighter around me to block out the winter chill. As I neared the park I slowed, my breathing puffed, creating fog around my mouth. I blew on my chilled hands, pulling them into the ends of my jacket. I walked into the park through the thick iron gate, my shoes tapping lightly on the cracked brick footpath.

My heart fluttered as I saw him, sitting on that same bench he did every Saturday. He looked up, his mesmerizing brown eyes softening, as he smiled, waving me over. I moved closer, flushing red as he patted the bench next to him with a gloved hand. He was as handsome as always, wearing his favourite black jeans and that black and white print T-shirt I bought him for his birthday. My heart sped up when I saw him wearing my present, and I sat down, forcing my erratic thoughts to hush.

"Micah," he greeted, ruffling my hair like he always did. I laughed, and jabbed his side with my frozen fingers. "Hey, are you cold?" The boy I loved asked, glancing at my trembling fingers. I nodded, blowing on them, and gasped as he took my hands in his after pulling off his gloves, slipping them on. My cheeks heat up and my stomach clenched, as he smiled that heavenly smile at me. "Better?"

"Mhmm," I breathed, holding his gloves to my face, breathing in his intoxicating scent of freshly mowed grass and honey. "Thanks..." I paused, trying to calm down my nerves as I worked up the courage to finally tell him how I felt. To tell him that I was in love with him.

"Uh...um... J-Jay..." I stammered, as he turned, frowning.

"Is something wrong, Micah? Are you still cold?" he asked, worried. I shook my head furiously, and opened my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut as I forced out the words I had been keeping in since I first met him.

"I love you! I'm in love with you!" I whispered, my voice choked as I ducked my head, my eyes shut. I had said it, whispered it really, but there was no changing the fact that I had said it. I had told the love of my life how I felt about him. Now he just had to say that he loved me too...

I peeled open my shut eyes, and choked as I saw his expression: one of disgust and contempt. My heart shattered in my chest as he turned his head away, jaw locked, mouth thin and tight. I couldn't breath, as he stood up and walked away, leaving me there in the cold alone. So very, very alone. I felt the tears fall before I heard the sobs that wracked my body, causing me to double over as I covered my face in my hands. My hands wearing his gloves. I cried, my sobs making my entire body shake uncontrollably.

Micah, a soft voice murmured as I curled up into a ball.

"Micah! Get up already or you're going to be late!" a shrill, chirpy voice scolded, as the blanket I had wound myself in was ripped from my body, the freezing morning air attacking me as I yelped, still half asleep. I cracked open an eye as I saw Maybelle, my younger sister, standing at the edge of my bed with her hands crossed over her chest. "You up yet? Or do I have to get the iced water from the fridge?" she threatened, flipping her black and purple hair away from her face, as I groaned, groggily getting up. When Belle threatened you, she wasn't kidding.

"I'm up, I'm up," I grumbled, sliding off my bed, straightening my sweat ed through sleep-shirt and boxers. Maybelle grinned, and kissed my cheek like she did every morning. I laughed, and kissed her on the head in return, as she skipped down the hall to her own room to do probably re-do her hair. Maybelle was my little bundle of joy, and I loved her to bits. We were really close siblings, since our family was one that shared everything and did everything together.

I sighed, stretching, as I walked over to my wardrobe to get some clothes out for the day. I wasn't a picky dresser, probably due to the fact that my wardrobe consisted of skinny jeans, skinny jeans, more skinny jeans and various T-shirts in an array of co lours. I didn't bother dressing nicely- as long as I looked some-what good and didn't cause people to gouge out their own eyes.

I opened the top drawer of my dresser, and flinched as I saw a pair of old black gloves on the top of my pile of T-shirts. I bit my lip, as I grabbed the gloves and threw them into the corner of my room, my mind flashing back to my dream. My heart ached, and I gritted my teeth, cursing as I pulled out a random white T-shirt with black print on it and a pair or fire-truck red skinny jeans, as well as an under shirt and a pair of striped boxers. I walked down the hall to the bathroom, where I dumped my clothes on the counter. I stripped down to my birthday suit and chucked my sweaty sleep-wear into the washing basket in the corner, and hopped into the shower, turning the heat of the water up. I loved hot showers.

When I finished I dried myself off, getting changed. I shook my hair dry, smoothing it out a little as I brushed my teeth. I then walked downstairs to the kitchen, where mum, or ma as Maybelle and I called her, was frying delicious smelling pancakes. Ma turned when she heard me approach, a dazzling smile plastered to her face. Ma was a beautiful woman, still young. She was only 36, and she had me when she was 18. It was tough on her, but with the help of my dad she raised me to be who I am today. I'm so proud of her- and grateful- that she didn't adopt me out, since I couldn't imagine life without her.

My dad passed away when I was 6, so I barely remember him, but from what ma tells me he was a kind man who loved Maybelle and I. He died when Belle was barely 3, so she doesn't remember him at all, but loves him nonetheless. Belle was a sweet kid.

"Morning ma," I said, hugging her from behind as she flipped another perfect pancake. Ma was a great chef, and has fulfilled her dream of opening a successful bakery/cafe. And guess what she named her popular establishment? 'Micah'. Yeah, she loves me. She said she wanted to be reminded of me every second of every day and because Maybelle and I were what got her through the day. Ma was the best, and I couldn't live without her.

"Good morning, sunshine," she laughed, her voice soft, threaded with love and care. "Those pancakes are yours, and there's syrup and berries in the fridge if you want." I nodded, grabbing my plate of pancakes as I made my way to fetch the syrup and berries. I loved blueberries, they were probably my favorite fruit. I dribbled a generous amount of syrup evenly over my pancakes, and scattered a good handful of plump berries on top of the syrup, grinning as I dug in. Ma's pancakes were amazing, they were fluffy and light but still melted in your mouth.

I quickly finished my meal, as I looked at the time on the clock that hung above the fridge. I popped the last sugar-coated berry into my mouth, placing my plate into the dishwasher. I pecked ma on the cheek before running up the stairs to my room, grabbing my backpack with my school books, phone, car keys, wallet and iPod in it, slipping on my checkered Vans. I walked out, closing the door, and knocked on Belle's room across from mine.

"Belle! Are you almost ready to go?" I yelled, and I heard a muffled "Just a sec!" from her, and a soft scuffle as she was probably rummaging around her room for last minute things. She was a very disorganized person, and called things as she saw them, but that was what I loved about her. She never failed to amuse you and always cheered you up when you were down. I stumbled back when she hurtled through her door, grabbing my hand.

"Okay, let's go! Bye ma, we're off to school!" she hollered, bolting out the front door to my car, which was my precious baby girl. Well, my third favorite thing after Bell and ma. She was a nice shiny Dodge Challenger, with a nice sunny yellow paint job with two black stripes down the middle. She was a beauty, and I took great care of her. She was the first major thing I bought with my own money, and took just over a year of a couple part time jobs to acquire. But it was all worth it, even though I did get hit on by one of my bosses, but I won't go into detail about that little incident.

I slid into the driver's seat, chucking my bag into the back alongside Belle's. I rolled my eyes as I saw her applying a heavy coat of eyeliner around her hazel eyes, which were a mixture of my own Grey eyes and mum's shimmery blue ocean eyes, as I always saw them as. Apparently I looked a lot like my father, inheriting his dark brown hair and light eyes. I had mum's delicate features, though, and though I have grown out of it now, when I was younger I was sometimes mistaken to be a girl because I had a feminine face. But it's okay- that phase as totally passed, even if it happened when I was 14, which was about 5 years too late.

"Belle, you look fine- you don't need make-up," I sighed, and she winked into the mirror, turning to me.

"Don't you remember your first year of high school, Micah? I need to look good. First impressions are always the best, you know!" she chirped, and I laughed, ruffling her hair. She yelped, and mock-glared at me as she straightened her dark hair and purple fringe with her fingers. I shook my head, as I pulled out of the drive-way, waving to ma who was smiling at us through the kitchen window.

Then what she said made me think about something I hated to think about.

"I didn't care about high school," I told her, steeling, my jaw clenching. Belle flinched, as she remembered this was a rocky topic. She gave me an apologetic look, and I sighed, flicking her on the forehead. "It's okay, Belle. I am over it now."

"No you're not," she murmured, and I ignored her, assuring myself that I was over it. That I was over him.