That Summer

The summer after high school graduation usually means a lot for teenagers. It could be constituted by vacations to places as close as the beach or as far as Europe, working constantly to save up for impending college life, or just lazing around and ignoring their parents' request for clean rooms. The summer after high school is usually full of sun and friends and enjoying oneself for most; with no alarm clocks and lots of late nights.

But Evangeline Donahue was not like most.

Her days consisted of early mornings, healthy meals, and hours upon hours of sweating in hot studios. She began and ended her day with fifteen minute stretching sessions. She took an ice bath once every two or three days because she was well aware that avoiding injury was a top priority as a ballerina.

Even though it was supposed to be the season of relaxation, Evangeline made sure all her mind and body were dedicated to was work.

She went through toe shoes like nobody's business and could often be seen breaking new ones in with a hammer, lighter and some scissors. Evangeline was well aware that all the hard work she was putting in now was going to pay off come the fall when she joined her future job with a professional ballet company.

That's what she told herself as she went through endless drills along with other dancers, hour after hour and day after day.
It would all pay off.

Paul was at work too, but in a completely different way. Now that he was done with high school, Boys Like Girls was able to sign to a label. They were still home in Boston, but they rarely stepped foot in their houses anymore. Sometimes they could visit family but their days were full of writing and recording.

Creating a record was much harder than any of the four boys thought. Sure, they had some songs already but they now had the responsibility of making those songs better. They had to be brutally honest with themselves and each other. Suddenly the drummer was finding himself having to correct the guitar riffs when he thought they sounded off, and the bassist was asking to rerecord percussion parts.

But it was all forgiven easily because the boys knew that once it was all said and done, this was going to the public. All their hard work and sweat and blood and tears were going to be thrown to the dogs and the critics and harsh reality; and if they wanted any morsel of success they were going to have to make it as good as they could.

During all of this, Paul had never once stopped thinking about Evangeline. Though he rarely saw her anymore, he relished the sweet moments he did. He found any excuse he could to follow Bryan home on nights off the studio.

Some would call Paul obsessed and he would do little to fight off that label. Maybe it's that when feelings so strong thrive for such a long time, they become a part of you and attempting to even begin denying them would be worthless and possibly much more work than warranted.

All Paul knew was that every time he saw Evangeline she seemed to grow more and more beautiful, and every time he would get the glassy eyed look, his friends would shake their heads in amusement and defeat. They were all very much aware that any attempt in trying to shake Paul DiGiovanni from his infatuation would be only in vain.

And terribly effortful.

Martin liked to tease his friend by bringing up the fact that the girl he was chasing was a frigid bitch. Bryan enjoyed reminding Paul that Evangeline was nothing but an emotions whore. John only sighed and mentioned that Evangeline wasn't attracted to boys "like us."
But Paul was blissfully deaf, dumb and blind in situations like this. He pretended that he absorbed none of that information, no matter how painfully true it was. He had been forced to see enough Oprah episodes to know that there was something beneath the surface. Something had to make Evangeline hate him so much, didn't it?

He couldn't accept that where she wanted to be in life was a completely different ballpark than that which he was aiming for. Paul ignored that Evangeline honestly, truly and simply just wasn't into that crowd.

She'd never taken a sip of alcohol in her life. She'd never smoked a blunt, or mixed a drink, or emerged herself in a sea of sweaty bodies at a concert.

Paul wasn't even sure if the term mosh pit was in Evangeline's lexicon.

And even while Paul was in the midst of his rather overt admiration, the girl in question was gloriously ignorant.

Her life was so wrapped up in ballet and what few friends she had left after graduation that Evangeline didn't even have the time to notice when Paul was around anymore. It seemed that having people watch her was just another commonality in her life.

Her teachers watched her: especially her pointe instructor, Anna, who did everything she could to find fault in the blonde dancer. Anna also failed every time. Evangeline couldn't even begin to pretend that each nod of begrudging approval she received wasn't a huge victory in her head. It was like she was gaining points everyday even her worst critics couldn't find a mistake in her performance.

Evangeline's fellow dancers watched her to learn how to improve; to become greats in their business of choice. Her parents watched her with satisfaction; her brother watched her with a mix of disgust and hidden pride (for he didn't like to admit that he was so greatly proud of his baby sister).

So maybe Paul's eyes were just a small add-on to Evangeline's usual daily audience, too little in measure to make a difference. Or perhaps, much more probable, she had just become so accustomed to Paul over the years that he'd become a fixture in her life.
Maybe she was too used to his eyes on her.Maybe she sort of liked it.

As odd as it came off to Evangeline, she didn't find herself uncomfortable around Paul DiGiovanni as she once was. She wasn't annoyed by him. On the few occasions she now got to see him, she almost relished in the attention. And then he'd be gone for days to record in the studio with the rest of his band. No, it wasn't Paul's presence that bothered Evangeline.

Rather, she was irked with his absence.