First Love

Theoretically first love can happen at any age... or not happen at all. No one ever forgets their first love. Whether it is a good or bad experience, through happy times or sad, you can never wipe away the memory of your first love even if it happened so long ago that it didn’t even seem to matter anymore.
♥

Eyes, squeeze open for the second time. The light blinds me but I’m not as scared as I was anymore. I turn to see two pieces of bright glass, staring down on me. On closer inspection, I see a nose and a mouth and ears; similar to the ones on the people I now call my mother and father. The glass disappears momentarily and I am fearful, yet they return almost as fast as they leave.

An odd sound cracks the silence and I strain to decipher it. My fat palm reaches out blindly to where the glass is.

“Hello Cassadee,” a small voice, almost incoherently, whispers, “Welcome to the World…”

♥

The sounds of the swinging mobile above our heads lulled us into and odd sense of security as it swung around and around, emitting that soft sound of a disjointed lullaby. It was slow and out of tune but we always believed it was somewhat melodic. Peaceful, even. I can’t mask the yawn that falls from my lips, and neither can you by the looks of it. You smile absentmindedly, your soft hair falls in front of your eyes as your head falls onto your shoulder gently as you crawl into a comfortable position on the rug beneath us, sucking your thumb, eyes closed, breathing even, bliss.

I am immediately jealous of your peaceful state and I mimic your position perfectly, snuggling into your side. You snuffle something incoherent in your sleep and wriggle uncomfortably as I squirm beside you.

There are so many things I want to say to you, but I’m only five and I don’t know how. Despite my empty mouth, the words are there, in my mind.

♥

You wear the face. The one that makes me smile. The one that stops the tears from falling when all your other friends pick on me for being both a girl and a year younger than you. It’s not fair.

“Leave her alone,” you hiss as Bobby McCracken sneers at me from the swing set, “You’re just jealous that I like her better than I like you.”

I grin as you walk over to me, pulling me up from where I was once hunched up by the slide.

“Let’s go play,” you say and I nod, following you as you stride, confidently towards the sand pit.

“Isn’t Bobby gonna be mad?” I lisp, cutely, biting my lip.

“I don’t care,” you say back, plopping cross legged onto the sand and running your hands through the granules, “What’s he gonna do Cassadee?”

I shook my head in confusion, “I don’t know, he’s bigger than you.”

“So? My older brother will get him if he lays a finger on us,” you say, shrugging, the yellow sand filtering through your fingers as you make tiny little mounds on the ground.

I giggle, knowing Gerard would never hurt a fly, but you sound so convinced.

“You’re silly.”

♥

“Happy birthday, dear Cassadee! Happy birthday to you!” your voice rose above the others by at least nine decibels.

I grinned up at the concave lens of my mother’s new camera as she flashed away.

“Blow the candles out!” you squeal, excitedly, egging me on. Soon you grow tiresome of my hesitation and push me forwards almost singing my eyebrows.

“Michael!” I hear your mother scold but you ignore her.

“C’mon, Cassie; I want some cake now!” you whine and I lean over the candles only to find them already extinguished. I turn my head, tears forming in my eyes as you pretend to not have noticed.

“Mikey! You stole my wish!” I cried. My mother had stopped taking pictures by now, and seemed to be looking on, biting her lip.

You cringe, “You’re only seven! You’ve got lots more birthdays to wish on. You can borrow my next wish if you like!”

I consider it for a moment. Your birthday is only a week away: September 10th, and you will be eight. It’s not a bad proposition really…

“So… you mean, I’ll have a whole week to think of my wish?”

You nod, grinning beatifically and I feel an odd sensation in my chest… one I’ve never felt. I smile, because you light up my heart.

♥

You’re nine now. You’re braver than you used to be. You’re confident and you’re so clever. You always talk about all the interesting things you’ve learnt in class which I am yet to be taught and you always say the same condescending things.

“You’ll learn them soon, Cassie.”

I nod, “But, what if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll teach you,” you smile, chuckling at my naivety.

I nod again and pull the flaps of my hat down over my ears. It is winter and the weather is unkind. It’s almost Christmas and there’s been a murmur of excitement ever since the 1st of December. We seem to be swamped in our coats: hand me downs from our siblings, yet we still feel so grown up in them. Your nose is red, just like the pictures of Rudolph hanging on the walls in my classroom. It makes me giggle and you look at me in confusion and almost pity.

“I sometimes forget how immature you are, Cassie.”

I frown, “What’s that supposed to mean?” I’ve never completely understood you. You always say complicated words and complex sentences and I never know what you mean. You’re mother told my mother that you were ‘gifted’. You read at the age of someone twice your age and you’re a whizz at writing and arithmetic. But, I always knew you’d end up being pretty clever.

You snort, “I mean you’re very childish, Cass.”

Times like these make me hate you, and I tell you so. You roll your hazel eyes at me and I shiver under your gaze.

“See?” you say, “You’re such a child.”

“Am not!” I retort, yet I know the battle is lost. My face contorts a little bit and you’re eyes immediately soften.

“I’m sorry, Cassadee,” you whisper, putting your hand in mine as we walk along in silence along the frosty roads leading to both our houses, “Forgive me?”

I nod, sniffling loudly.

“I forgive you…”

♥

As we sat on the floor of your bedroom, you turned to me, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Cass?”

I look up from my puzzle, “What?”

“Have you ever wondered…” you trail off faintly, but you know always interested so I know you won’t drop it.

“Have you ever wondered what it’s like to … kiss… someone?” you mumble, and I’m surprised I understand.

“I don’t know, why?”

“It’s just, lots of kids in my class have got boyfriends and girlfriends and they’ve said they kiss each other…”

“Who’s got boyfriends and girlfriends?” I ask, curiously.

“Bobby McCracken.”

I wince at the name. We both share a hatred for Robert McCracken because he’s so mean to me.

“Who’d kiss him? He’s icky.”

“I know… anyway, have you ever thought about it?”

I shake my head and I see my brown ringlets bounce about my face, gently.

“Do you wanna maybe… try it?”

I narrow my eyes, “What? With you?”

You nod, turning red, “Look, you don’t have to-”

“Okay then.”

Your eyes widen for a second before clearing your throat and leaning forwards til I can feel your breath on my face. I can almost count every one of the eyelashes decorating your hazel orbs before you press your lips to mine momentarily.

Something explodes in my stomach and I forget to breathe, but luckily, you promptly pull away, wiping your mouth and flinching.

“Ew!” you grimace, spitting slightly as you speak, “That was icky!”

I grin weakly, worrying that I was wrong to have liked it.

♥

We learned to swim together properly this summer, and when we got back to school, you made no hesitation at boasting over the fact that you can now swim under water better than me, despite the fact that I was scared of putting my entire body in the water for the first few lessons, undoubtedly giving you a head start. You get this odd sense of satisfaction seeing all the girls in your year fawn over how brave you are and how athletic you are. It’s silly really.

It’s September the 11th, 1991, the day after your birthday and also the first day you have ignored me at lunch. I must have looked so foolish, waiting for you under that goddamn tree for so long, picking at my sandwiches and hoping that you were coming, only held up a little by a teacher or the like. But as I trudge back to my classroom as the bell went, I see your stupid brown hair above all the other kids as you lounge by the front steps that lead to your class. I hear your voice ringing loud and clear through the din and a familiar pang shoots right through my heart.

You giggle at something that Bobby McCracken is saying and nod along with him. I pretend to not care but then I hear Bobby’s oddly low voice calling my name.

“Hey, Cassadee!”

I swing round quickly, my Spiderman backpack jangling as it hits my elbows. My mom didn’t like me wearing a Spiderman backpack, but my older brother, Ray, convinced her that it wouldn’t hurt anyone. She wanted me to have a girlie backpack, like the Hello Kitty one I saw Jessica Miles, in the year above, wearing.

“What?” I ask, but he merely smirks, whispering in your ear. You laugh again and I frown.

“What?” I repeat, yet my voice is ignored as you and Bobby both start giggling again.

My cheeks become very hot and my mouth feels dry.

This love has dried up.

♥

On your twelfth birthday, your mother, Donna, threw you a surprise party. Everyone in your grade was invited and Gerard had invited a couple of his friends round although all they ever seemed to do was sit in the basement drinking alcohol. I was only invited as an afterthought. Your mother saw my mother in the supermarket and got talking again. Reminiscing even. It turned out that the only reasons they’d been friends at first was the fact that they both had young children but since Mikey decided he didn’t want to be friends with me anymore, our parents no longer had anything in common. Until our mothers discovered they had both recently started drinking in the afternoons.

They now compare cocktail formulas.

My mother made me wear a stupid pink dress to the party which I hate. I hate dresses; I sometimes wish I was a boy so I’d be allowed to wear trousers instead of skirts. I hate the feeling I get when I see all the other girls at the party who look pretty in clothes their mother’s didn’t force them into.

I stand in the hallway for most of the party, stupid songs playing in the living room and loud, ear-numbing sounds erupting from the basement. I wish I had a place.

“Oh, hi Cassadee,” I look to my left to see your brother standing in the doorway, cradling an orange bottle in the crook of his arm.

“Hello Gerard,” I say, nervously. Your brother stares down at me before cracking a kind smile.

“Why aren’t you out there, dancing with Mikey and his friends?” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“He doesn’t like me anymore,” I say simply, but Gerard actually laughed.

“Yeah, for now, Cassie, but no one ever forgets their first love…”

I cocked my head to the side, “Huh?”

“Oh, come on Cass!” he giggled, adjusting the bottle nestling in his arms, “You can’t honestly say you don’t know he’s in love with you?”

I shrug, “I’m only eleven…” almost choking on my words.

Gerard smiles before leaning forwards and ruffling my soft hair in that annoying way that older people do to make you feel stupid, “Don’t worry about it kid… you’ll find out someday.”

And then he walks quietly into the kitchen before stepping quickly down the steps to the basement and we spoke no more of it again.

♥

Alyssa Jenkins. She’s the envy of every girl in school. She’s pretty, perfect and is the head cheerleader for her grade’s squad. She has miles of blonde hair and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, framed by dark eyelashes and heavily made up eye lids. She’s sweet and nice and the object of every boy’s affections. She’s the image of perfection to my twelve year old eyes. And she’s all yours.

Needless to say I hate her. But I’m not really allowed an opinion on the matter as you never speak to me anymore. We exchange pleasantries at school but that’s it. I occasionally catch a glimpse of you passing the window opposite mine but that was it. Once I saw Alyssa’s blond hair flapping about the place when Donna wasn’t home and I felt sick to my stomach.

Donna hates Alyssa too, as does Gerard because they believe you and Alyssa aren’t meant to be together and because Donna says Alyssa’s hair is ‘ratty’. But she would never say that to you, of course.

And of course, the relationship doesn’t last. You don’t look right together. She doesn’t fit your feminine features and shy attitude.

So much for what Gerard said, about you being in love with me. Wishful thinking, I know, but we’re through.

♥

I’ve taken to running home from school. As soon as fifth period ends, I grab my satchel, sling it across my shoulders and head directly to the door at a fast pace. As soon as I am certain that no one is around, I break into a run for the back entrance of the school and, dodging Morris, the caretaker, who sits in his cabin, I run across the school playing field and down all the back alleys to my house. I have to be fast about it mind. If I’m too slow I could get caught out, and the alleys I run down are virtually inescapable if you’re cornered by six or seven of your fellow students who are out to get you. Sometimes they come bearing sticks; sometimes they throw rocks; once a knife was involved but I got out with only a small cut on my hand.

But you wouldn’t understand. No one’s ever hated you.

♥

Standing in the Starbuck’s queue, I count out my money, eyeing up the boards suspiciously.

I swear it used to be a dollar less than that… I frown up at the menu and curse myself for buying an extra cookie at lunch. I’m at least a dollar short.

“Oh, hey Cassadee, what would you like, hun?” a boy who I vaguely know from my brother’s drunken house parties, yet am unable to name, purrs at me and out of habit I immediately order a Grande Americano.

The boy smiles and nods before busying himself with making my beverage whilst I start to panic.

How on earth can I make a dollar in thirty seconds? I look around helplessly and sigh heavily. I’m not talented at anything so I can’t exactly busk or anything stupid like that. I could just take the drink and run. Oh, God… I’m gonna go to jail for stealing a cup of coffee. What would my mother say? Oh, Jesus, save me?

“That’ll be $3.65, darlin’,” he says as he places a mug onto the worktop and looks at me expectantly.

I begin to panic; my shaking hand drops three dollars into his hand. He frowns as he counts.

“Hun, you’re short by about sixty-five cents.”

My mouth goes dry, “I- uh…”

“Here,” a hand protrudes from behind me, placing a dollar into the boy’s hand, and I turn to see you standing there, an absent grin playing on your fifteen year old lips. You’ve grown at least a foot taller and even more handsome since the last time I saw you before summer started. I blink at you and the boy behind the counter beams.

“Aw! Is that your boyfriend, Cassadee?” and I sense my cheeks turn a bright red colour.

You chuckle slightly as he hands you change for your dollar, “No… we’re just… old friends.”

♥

I’m fifteen years old, goddamn it, yet my mother insists on getting me a babysitter? She tried to explain but it was no use, I just sat in my room sulking until Gerard arrived. My mother called up the stairs but I pulled my headphones on over my ears and hummed to the sound of The Misfits, resting the cassette player on my lap and leaning back onto the pillows propped on my bed. I stared mindlessly at the posters on the wall and sighed happily to myself as I let the sound invade my ears freely. I knew Gerard wouldn’t mind. He always just hangs in the front room watching porn. I pretend to not know about it but it’s pretty obvious. I’ve never seen anyone move as fast as Gerard did when he scurried for the remote that one time when I came downstairs to get some chips.

I hear a faint knocking at my door but I ignore it. I close my eyes and snuggle into the safe confines of my bed comfortably, absently nodding to the music. After a few moments, I feel a weight on the bed and I jump up, ripping the headphones from my ear as the cassette player falls to the floor with a crash and the tape slips out of the player with a jolt.

I look up and see you, of all people, staring at me with shock, perched on the side of my bed.

“Shit, sorry!” you gush, picking up the cassette player off the floor and inspecting it closely.

“Its fine, Mikey, what are you doing here?” I muttered, embarrassed that I was in my pyjamas at 7:30.

“I’m your babysitter,” you chuckle, bright red in the face, “Gee couldn’t make it so I stepped in.”

I growled under my breath before murmuring, “Well, isn’t that fantastic?”

You cringe slightly, handing the cassette back to me and standing up, “Sorry, Cass… I guess I was sort of hoping we could be friends.”

I frowned slightly, “What?”

You shrug slightly, “I don’t know… I guess I sort of missed you.”

I nod slightly, pulling my legs up to my chest and cocking my head to the side.

“I missed you too,” I mutter, shyly, peering up at you slightly. I brushed my brown curled locks out of my eyes with my free hand. I hate my hair. It’s always in the way.

You sit down timidly, rubbing your forehead with your hands, “What went wrong?”

I didn’t answer. You look up questioningly.

“I don’t know,” I say quietly, although I know full well what went ‘wrong’.

You shake your head slightly and I sigh, louder than I intended, “I don’t see how we grew apart…”

“I do,” I mumble, immediately wishing I hadn’t said it after.

“Hm?” you say, biting your lip in this weirdly attractive way, sending butterflies to whirl about my stomach in this sort of… trippy frenzy, a feeling I haven’t felt in long time…

“It’s because, you got friends,” I say bluntly, yet you seem confused, I sigh, “You got friends, and you ditched me, Mikey.

“This was never my fault, so please, don’t pin the blame on me. You were my first ever friend, the only real one I ever had, and it hurt when you left. It was like you were saying I wasn’t good enough to be your friend. And then, your so-called friends started to pick on me, and you didn’t even notice. I had bruises under my shirt and I was too afraid to tell my mom because I didn’t want your ‘friends’ to find out I told on them. Do you even know how that feels? No, of course you don’t… you’re popular.”

You stared at your hands sadly, “I’m sorry,” you mutter, reaching out to touch my hand but I flinch away, almost instantly.

“Just words, Mikey,” I say.

Wordlessly, you stand, looking around quickly, before brusquely kissing my cheek.

I hear my bedroom door close followed by the sound of the TV being turned on downstairs. And I don’t see you again all night.

I need to taste the kiss from someone new.

♥

“Sweet sixteen will never look so good!” sang Ray, excitedly, making me yet another glass of vodka and coke. He giggled as he thrust the glass my way.

It was barely noon and my brother and I were already celebrating in the back yard. I never get to see Ray these days, so I savour every second of ‘bonding’ with my brother. I don’t exactly have any friends so there won’t be any ‘surprise parties of the year’, like the one your mom got you this time last year, for me, I assure you.

I snorted, “Jack and Jill went- oh – up the hill!” I screamed, excitedly.

“To drink cheap wine and pop some pills!” Ray replied, chinking our glasses together.

“Now Jack lays dead in A&E and Jill is left with the memories!” Ray nodded as I giggled my way through another verse.

“Cheers, my dear!” he laughed, sloshing his drink around the glass as he tried to sit up, “Hey! Let’s see if Gerard’s home! It’s still summer, maybe he hasn’t gone back to college yet?”

I hummed in response as Ray tottered over to the side of the fence dividing our gardens.

“Gee! YO! GERARD!” Ray bellows, slurring his words, “Gee-rard! Come out to play-ay!”

I giggle, watching as Ray bobs up and down beside the fence, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Hey! Look! It’s Mikey! Yo, Mikey, go get Gerard and you guys can come over,” Ray called, “It’s -hic- Cassadee’s birthday!”

I was too dizzy to hear your reply but I was pretty sure I didn’t want you hanging around. Ray stumbled back to the picnic blanket in the centre of the garden and practically fell on me.

“Whoops!” he laughed, “Silly me! Don’t want to go –hic- crushing Cassadee on her –hic- birthday!”

His breathing was erratic as he tried to pour another drink.

“Mom’s gonna kill you.”

Ray ignored me and went, “Shh! You ain’t gonna tell, are you Cass?”

“Nope, but she’ll know.”

“That woman knows everything,” Ray groaned, his hair bouncing as he shook his head, “Yay! Gee’s here! And Mini-Gee!”

“Mini-Gee?” I asked, giggling.

“I forget what the skinny one’s called sometimes…”

“The ‘skinny one’ is called Mikey,” I hear you say from the gate separating out houses and I roll over to squint at you.

“That’s it! Mikey! I remember it now!” Ray chuckles climbing to his feet and putting on an English accent, “Care for a –hic- drink?”

“Sure,” you say uncertainly and I see Gerard nod.

You and Gerard sit on the rug, cross legged, across from where I am sprawled.

“Happy Birthday, Cass!” Gerard trills and I smile absently.

“I hate you Ray! My head hurts!”

“Drink some more then,” Ray says, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world, as he hands glasses to you and Gee with mystery liquid inside them.

You sniff it, “What is this stuff?”

“Dude, I don’t even know anymore…”

“So, Cass,” Gerard says, “What are you doing for your birthday?”

“This? I have… nothing planned, whatsoever.”

You and Gerard seem to think this is the most diabolical thing you’ve ever heard, I don’t even know why I’m allowing you to be in my backyard anyway but I’m too drunk to actually care.

“Aren’t you doing anything with your friends?” you have the cheek to ask; well I mistake it for cheek as I hiss at you.

“I don’t have friends, remember?”

You flush pink and Gerard, sensing tension, changes the subject, “So, Mikey, seventeen next week, huh?”

You giggle, “Yep, it’s exciting. Last year of school too.”

“Whoop-de-doo,” I mutter sarcastically, flopping onto my back.

You ignore me, sipping your drink slowly, “So what are you thinking of doing when you leave?”

“I don’t know, I was thinking maybe a doctor, or like… a psychologist or a lawyer. If I get the grades to go to a good school…”

“You don’t need to worry, bro, you’re a smart one! I can tell, you’re gonna be somebody. You’ll change lives.”

“So, Cass,” Ray says, trying to make a good input into conversation, “Who are you gonna be when you leave school?” The truth is, I have no idea about who I want to be when I grow up. I don’t have any skills or talents. I don’t get the best grades and I’m not much to look at.

I shrug, nonchalantly, sliding my new sunglasses, which had been resting on my head, down over my eyes.

“Surely you have some ideas?” Gerard presses. I don’t see why he cares. He’s a big-shot art school guy now. He doesn’t have to worry about what he’s gonna do. He’s always known.

“I’m not good at anything,” I say, the sun is sobering me up as I stare through darkened lenses straight into its rays.

“Pfft, everyone’s good at something,” you say, and I glare at you through my sunglasses.

“Yeah, well I’m the anomaly.”

You’re not satisfied with my answer and now you and Gerard press me for answers. You’re not supposed to have the future talk with your next door neighbours who you only see occasionally at Christmases and Birthdays.

“Isn’t there anything?” you say, a last ditch attempt to learn a little more about me, but I will not surrender to your clever words and overall cuteness, Mikey Way. Even if I am drunk.

“What?”

Did I say that out loud?

“What?” I mimic, pretending to not know what I just said but I can feel my deceiving cheeks already turning red.

“You said, and I quote: ‘I will not surrender to your clever words and overall cuteness, Mikey Way. Even if I am drunk.’ Sound familiar?”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t say that,” I said coughing slightly.

“Yeah, you did,” says Ray. Damn you, Ray, you fiend.

“See?” you say smartly, looking extremely pleased with yourself, “You think I’m cute.”

“No I don’t!”

“Dude, you just said-”

“Ray! Shut up!” my cheeks actually burned.

“Cass thinks I’m cute!” you chant merrily and I grow ever tiresome of your stupid smug face that I pick up my glass of whatever Ray’s just given me and throw the contents at you, storming off towards the tree house at the end of the garden. Yes, a childish move, but the fact I am younger than everyone else in the garden made me feel slightly better about the situation. If anything I should be savouring these years, at least I’m still a teenager which is more than I can say for Gerard and Ray, who have actual responsibilities now. I’ve got two years til I graduate and you’ve only got one. So there.

The tree house is barely big enough for two people now, yet I remember it used to fit at least five of us. I curl up in one of the corners, eyes closed, hunched up and praying that no one will come and tease me any more. I am instantly reminded of hiding here after school back when I was thirteen when all your little friends used to chase me. I’m glad you’re not friends with them anymore. You’re not exclusively friends with anyone any more. You’re Mikey Way. The boy with the potential to be the most popular boy in school, the possible life and soul of the party, and yet all of last year, you stayed at home a lot on Saturday nights; I could see you from my bedroom window. You were studying and I could barely manage to take my eyes off you. I ought to tell you to put some blinds up or something because one of these days I’m gonna get caught staring at you through the window. Yeah, it sounds creepier than it is.

When I open my eyes, I think I must be drunk. I can see stars moving in front of my eyes, I can’t even tell what’s real anymore.

But, oh, wait; it’s just light reflecting off your stupid glasses because you’re leaning so close to me as you try to clamber into the small confines of this stupid wooden shack.

“Hey,” you say, sitting across from me, cross-legged. It’s pretty hard to sit in the tree house with two almost adult people and not have any part of your bodies touching but we’ve managed it, “Sorry I sort of-”

“Humiliated me?”

“Yeah… my bad,” you mutter, embarrassed, “But… for the record, I think you’re cute too.”

“Ha, thanks,” I mutter stupidly, hugging my knees even closer, “Why is it that whenever I’m with you I always feel so stupid and small?”

You seem sort of shocked, “I don’t know? I hope I don’t make you feel that way!”

“You’re so big and so fantastic and so perfect and so hero worshipped. And I’m just a girl who doesn’t have friends or anything. I’m spending my sixteenth birthday getting drunk with my brother,” I sigh.

“That’s better than spending it with a whole bunch of pretentious pricks who pretend to be your friends like I did,” you say, comfortingly, “At least you know your brother loves you for you.”

You had a point.

I leaned my head on your shoulder, “Ow…”

“Your head?”

“Uh-huh…”

You press your lips against my forehead momentarily, as if you think that the pain will magically go away. It doesn’t, by the way.

“How come you only ever had one girlfriend?”

“Two.”

“Huh?”

“I swear I had two…”

“No, Alyssa counts as one person.”

“Yeah, and then if you count…”

“Who?”

“No one…”

“C’mon, what were you gonna say?” I press, nudging you.

Sighing, you wiggle slightly, clearing your throat you say, “Alright, I’ll say it… I always thought of… you, as my first ever… you know… girlfriend…”

“Why?”

“We kissed that one time… when we were kids,” you say awkwardly, as if you believe I have forgotten.

“I didn’t think… you’d count that.”

“Hmm…” you say. We’re so awkward around each other. You occasionally catch my eye yet I blush and look away almost instantly, “This sucks.”

“What?”

“Nothing…” you say, before sighing heavily, bringing your fist down heavily onto the wooden floor of the tree house in anger, “No… not ‘nothing’… Cassadee?” you turn to look at me, “The truth is… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your voice seems to crack as you try to formulate words and I wonder if you’re crying. But Mikey Way doesn’t cry.

“I try to not think about you but whenever I see the light through your bedroom window I immediately think ‘hey, what’s Cass doing?’ you know? It’s so hard. And it kills me because you hate me!”

“I don’t hate you!”

“You do…” you say, angrily, fists clenched again, “You just do…”

“No, Mikey, I don’t hate you! I don’t think I could ever hate you…”

We sit in silence for a long time. It feels like an eternity but it’s probably only about five minutes.

“I think about you too,” I sigh.

I see you smile in the darkness, “Really?”

“Yeah… sorry I threw a glass at you…”

“It’s cool. Sorry I was such a dick to you.”

“It’s cool… sometimes I say things that I don’t mean to say and I-”

“No… I meant, I’m sorry I was such a dick to you for like… our entire lives.”

“Oh… you weren’t a dick to me for our… whole lives…”

For a moment… I thought you were going to kiss me.

I was right.

♥

When your mother invited Ray and me over for a surprise dinner to celebrate your graduation, I was ridiculously excited. I hadn’t seen you properly in ages. You’d been busy and I had a lot of school projects to do.

I had no idea what to wear but I was pretty sure you wouldn’t care what I wore, yet I still fussed for ages before settling on a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and a white cotton blouse with flowers embroidered along the neckline. I thought about straightening my hair but I remembered the time you had said you liked my hair curly. I thank God my hair wasn’t as fluffy as Ray’s. God knows how I ended up with soft brown curls instead of that massive afro Ray sports with pride.

“Cass! Hurry up, girl; we need to be there in like… now!” Ray yelled up the stairs.

“Alright!” I screamed down, glad mom wasn’t home or she’d be scolding us for all the loudness, “I’m coming!”

I grabbed my black bag, slung it on my arm and jogged down the stairs.

“Finally… what were you doing up there?”

“I was getting changed!” I replied, slipping on my black shiny heels that I only wore on occasion – mostly occasions to do with you because I hate being so much smaller than you, “Let’s go, I see you haven’t made much of an effort.”

“It’s only Mikey… he won’t care.”

When we got to the Way residence, butterflies were flapping about my stomach, stupidly fast. Mrs Way answered the door.

“Hey guys, come in, come in, Mikey isn’t here yet so we’re gonna take our places at the dinner table,” she grinned, “Don’t you love surprise parties!”

We nodded enthusiastically as she showed us to our spots around the table where a couple of your friends already sat. I felt sort of special that I was the only girl there apart from your mom.

I waved like a dork at Frank Iero, who sat opposite me and merely giggled. He was a junior like me at a different school, which sucks because he’s actually a decent human being and I barely get to see him ever, but you and he had bonded over music especially as you met at a gig.

Bob Bryar sat next to him playing with his fork nervously. I knew him as Gerard’s friend but to be quite honest, you could befriend a tea cosy so I wasn’t surprised to see him along with a couple of your cousins.

“Gerard just texted me!” Frank giggled, “They’re on their way!”

Donna flicked the lights off and stumbled to her chair, “Everyone be very quiet!”

The room was suddenly immersed in silence as we could hear the faint jangling of keys in the door and Gerard’s cursing as he struggled to open the door. Moments later the door opened and your giggling echoed through the house.

“Why are all the lights off?” you ask, stumbling through the hall and eventually into the dining room, flicking the lights on only to be met with the sound of us roaring a rather disjointed ‘Surprise!’ at you.

“Shit!” you yelled, clutching at your chest. Donna frowned but let it pass as she hugged you.

“Congratulations Mikey!”

You grin, “I haven’t even properly graduated yet!” you giggle as yet another person engulfs you in a hug.

“Yeah, well, we’re pretty sure you’ll have some parties to attend on Friday!” Donna giggled as the hugging died down and she tried to seat us all.

“I haven’t hugged my favourite neighbour yet!” you say indignantly, reaching out to hug me quickly before Donna insists we sit down. Some day, we’re going to tell people about this secret relationship we’ve got going on… we’ve been ‘together’ for almost 9 months and no one knows. I’m getting sick of all the stolen glances and secret kisses. I want you to be proud of having me. I feel like I’m your dirty little secret. Not the alleged love of your life.

“So, Mikey… speech?”

You immediately flush red and shake your head, but we all know you won’t get away with it. This is your mother we’re talking about. By the end of the night, you’ll have made a speech about all the great people who have brought you this far. You better make sure Donna is top of the list.

-

Donna went to bed straight after dessert, complaining of a headache. You’ve only just said good-bye to the last of the guests. It’s just me, you, Gerard and Ray lying on the couches in your front room.

“So…” Gee begins, “Who wants to go to a club?”

“Cass and I are too young,” you mutter, snuggling into the couches even further.

“Oh… Ray, fancy a night out?”

“Sure, if Cass doesn’t mind me going out?”

“No, dude, go… I’ll hang with Mikey for a bit…”

“Yeah, she can stay over if you want Ray? So you won’t have to worry about her when you come home drunk…” ha, you’re so good at convincing people to do stuff.

“Good idea Mikes, Cass you okay staying here tonight? I don’t want you home alone…”

I gulp inaudibly; I’ve never stayed over before. I nod slowly.

“Then it’s settled,” Ray says, “See you, Cass!”

And within no time, Gerard and Ray are out the door and you’re sitting up on the couch staring across at me.

“Hey,” I say, quietly, watching as you unfold your feet and walk across the room to the couch I’m sitting on.

“Hello,” you purr, “Thanks for enduring that…”

“I enjoyed myself, I love Donna,” I grinned.

“Yeah, she loves you too,” you grin, crawling next to me and nudging me gently with your cold nose, “I wanna snuggle!”

I chuckle and wrap my arms around your warm waist, “Mmm… you smell nice…”

“I’ve missed you… tonight was torture. I had to sit so far away from you and I couldn’t touch you or anything…” you whine, “I hate not touching you.”

I giggle at your words as you kiss a trail up my neck, finally ending up sucking on my earlobe.

“God, you’re so weird!” I chuckle as you begin to kiss my neck again.

“You think I’m sexy though!”

“Yes…”

“And you love me!”

“Says who?” I say jokingly.

You mock hurt, “I am hurt, Miss Cassadee.”

“Sure you are, Mister Michael… I do love you though…” I add, just to make sure you know.

“I know sweetie, I love you too…”

“I wish we could tell people,” I whisper as you busy yourself with playing with my hair, fondly.

“I know… I wish we could too, but you know what my mom is like… she’d never leave us alone. Oh, but, good news, Gerard knows,” you grin.

“Since when?” I ask, watching you stand and bend to pick me up in your arms easily. I don’t get how you can just do that… literally sweep me off my feet. You’re always trying to convince me that I’m not ‘chunky’ as I like to put it, but it’s hard to believe you when I see some of the skinny cheerleaders talking to you at school. Although, this year’s been amazing. We ate lunch together under the oak tree in the school courtyard every day. No more eating in the bathroom for me, well… until you go to college…

“Since we were talking and he sort of… talked it out of me…”

“Ah,” I nod knowingly as you take the stairs two at a time, carrying me into your bedroom a gently dropping me on your bed, “So, the next step is telling your mom…”

“Yep… but let’s wait a while first. I don’t want her to wreck stuff,” you whine, lying down next to me.

“Okay,” I agree, “What do you wanna do now?”

You consider it for a second.

“You,” you say jokingly.

“Ha, you make me sound like a board game,” I mutter nervously, as you kiss the nape of my neck. We haven’t done… that.

“Mmm…” you say, throatily, “Baby? I’ve been… uh… thinking, we’ve been together for nearly 9 months now… and I was wondering…”

“You were wondering if I wanted to do it.”

“Mmm…” you bury your face into my shoulder, “You make it sound like I’m a horny teenaged boy.”

“You are a horny teenaged boy…”

“Shush you!”

I giggled as you started to tickle my rib cage, planting kisses all over my face.

“Ow! You kissed my eye!”

“I’ll kiss whatever I want!” you chuckle, before, finally, pressing your lips forcefully onto mine, moving them softly at first in a more innocent kiss before dragging your tongue along my bottom lip, asking for entry which I instantaneously give you. Your tongue dips into my mouth, exploring every crevice.

“Mmm…” you moan, “You taste like strawberries…”

“You taste like Mikey,” I reply, running my hands up and down your torso, resting my hands under your shirt, “Gah… too much material.”

You sling your legs over my hips so you’re straddling me and you sit up momentarily to remove your shirt before leaning forwards to cup my face, “Better?” you murmur, before reattaching our lips.

Your skin looks so luminous in the moonlight that seeps through the curtains. You’re so pale; you chuckle when I tell you this, pulling away from me and staring at me with this weird… longing look in your eyes.

I fidget into a sitting position, never leaving your eyes as I begin to undo my blouse with shaking hands.

“May I?” you whisper and I nod encouragingly, glad I don’t have to do it alone anymore. I shrug the blouse off and you throw it aside as I begin fumbling with your belt buckle.

“Are you sure, baby?” you murmur and I nod, enthusiastically. I want you to make love to me very much so and I voice this nervously.

You grin, leaning towards your bedside cabinet, winking shyly at me as you pull something out. I giggle as I realise what the things inside the packaging is…

“Oh…” I say, and you let out a loud laugh which I instantly try to block out, pressing my hand to your lips, “Donna is only down the hall!”

“She sleeps like the dead!” you whisper back, watching as I finally manage to undo your belt buckle, followed by your pants which you immediately slide down your narrow hips exposing your underwear. You thrust one hand swiftly down the front of your boxers quickly and I look away in embarrassment and begin undoing my own jeans.

“Done,” you mutter, throatily, staring at me. I drink in the sight of you before running my hands along your chest.

Pretty soon we’re both only in our underwear and I begin to feel scared. The breeze from the half open window hits my skin and I shiver underneath you.

“Don’t be scared, baby,” you purr against my shoulder as you kiss your way to my stomach.

“I’m not scared!” I say, indignantly, my back arching upwards as you press your lips against my hip.

You giggle, crawling over me to kiss my lips, your hand resting at the thin waistband of my underwear and I do the same to you. You moan slightly, nuzzling my neck and I take that as an indication to push the soft cotton of your boxers down. I’ve never seen a naked guy before… I skipped Sex Ed. Boy parts make me all jittery, but it’s weird, because I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you.

“I feel overdressed,” I announce bravely, to which you laugh, nodding in agreement as you kiss me gently.

“I can help you with that…” you say softly, as I begin to wriggle out of my leftover clothes, giggling as your abnormally warm hands struggle with the clasp on my bra.

“Who invented this stupid thing?” you breathe, as it finally pings open to which you give a yelp of happiness, sweeping curly tendrils of hair out of my eyes with your newly free hand, “You’re so beautiful…”

I blush at your words as you stare unashamedly at me… all of me…

“I love you,” I mutter, gazing up at you as you hold yourself above my body with your strong arms.

“I love you too…” you say, biting your lip nervously, “Are you ready?”