2. Elijah
2
Elijah
Five Years Later - Senior Year
“Is she serious?” I gasped, looking at the list of who made the winter showcase. Tearing the paper off the wall, I marched through the hallways to Mrs. Templeton’s art room. I knew she’d be in there, tinkering away at whatever project she was working on. It was the end of the school day, so students were going to their lockers and heading home.
Just as I suspected, there she was, with a shaping tool between her teeth and her glasses sliding down on her nose, molding a piece of clay together to form something that looked like a loaf of bread. I was curious if that’s what she was going for.
“What is this?” I breathed out, slamming the paper on the table next to her.
“It is what you think it is, Elijah. I mean, really, did you have to tear it down?” She sighed.
“I can’t believe it. You know how important this is to me.”
“Which is exactly why you got it.” She smiled up at me, taking the tool out of her mouth. Walking over to me, she rested her hands on my cheeks, forcing me to look down into her eyes. “Plus, you’ve got a talent for this, kid. You deserve nothing less than the headlining artist.”
I breathed out, trying my best to hold back the tears coming to my eyes. “Art professors from all over will come to see my work. I’ve been working on something like this my whole high school career—”
“Exactly. You’ve earned this, Elijah.” She dropped her hands and rested them on my shoulders. “Don’t let me down.” She was a lot smaller than me, but the way she looked up at me with those big blue eyes and round glasses made me feel like a giant.
“Thank you, Mrs. Templeton. For everything.”
“Oh, shush.” She smiled, waving me off before returning to her work. “Just remember me when you’re rich and famous.”
“Deal,” I laughed, backing out of the room.
Suddenly, my back crashed into what felt like a wall. I dropped my book bag on the ground, and some homework papers dropped onto the floor.
“Damn, watch where you’re going, loser.” Harry laughed. My stomach turned. Well, there went that great moment. Harry was the worst of all the football meatheads. I swore, they had gym socks for brains. He thought just because he threw a ball around the field that he and his team were the coolest shits in school. Grow up.
“Fuck off, Harry,” I sneered, bending down to grab my papers. That’s when his big fat foot came crashing down on top of my work, stopping me from picking it up.
“What’d you say, loser?”
I looked up at him through my hair. He smiled down at me, waiting for a reaction. This guy had been tormenting me since the beginning of high school, and I never entirely understood why.
Maybe jealousy. Girls loved hanging around me for some reason, but honestly, I think it was because I made them feel safe—safe from guys like him.
“I said, fuck off.” I stood up, bracing myself for a fight before a hand appeared on Harry’s chest.
“Come on, man. We’re going to be late for practice.”
I would have known that voice anywhere. My eyes followed the arm to see my ex-best friend, Tobias, defending his new best friend, Harry. What a joke.
I shook my head. “Coward,” I muttered.
“What’d you just call me?” Harry gaped at me.
“You know, Harry, you’re pretty hard of hearing.” I laughed. “Why don’t you do yourself a favor and listen to your little lap dog here?” I said, tilting my head in Tobias' direction. I’d rather not speak to him directly if I could help it. It was already awkward enough knowing all of our history—or, should I say, lack thereof.
“Let’s go, Harry. It’s not worth it.” Tobias pulled Harry by the arm.
“You’re right. He’s nothing.” Harry smirked, backing away and walking off.
Tobias looked down at his feet and shook his head before watching Harry walk around the corner. “You know, most people just say ‘sorry’ when they bump into someone else.” His gaze locked onto mine, stealing the breath from my lungs. I often forgot how baby blue his eyes were. Such blue-piercing eyes could be too intense on some people, but they looked the opposite on him. Inviting. They look warm.
I shook my head, bringing me back to the moment. He was always too nice for his good. “And where’s the fun in that?” I picked up the rest of my papers and stuffed them into my bag. Looking up, I watched as his blonde hair and broad shoulders rounded the corner without saying another word.
***
I walked out the back doors of Northbridge Academy Private School and made my way to my car. Since I had a shift after school at the restaurant, I had to drive my car today. I have no complaints, though - I love driving my black Mazda 3. My dad got me this car for my 18th birthday, and it’s my pride and joy.
Unfortunately, to get to the back parking lot I had to walk past the football field, avoiding eye contact with the worst people in my school. Lucky me, it looked like they were busy working on some drills. Only our football team would be out here practicing in this kind of cold. Christ, the fall season just ended— give it a rest.
Picking up my pace, I focused on just getting to my car. Unfortunately, I could feel my eyes instantly searching him out. I don’t mean to look for him. I really don’t. It just… happens.
Unsurprisingly, I could spot him in a millisecond, and it was as though he could spot me, too. Was he looking for me? His dark navy blue jersey hugged tightly around his biceps and chest. Even with his shoulder pads and safety equipment, I could still make out the outline of every muscle of his upper body, even from how far away I was—n umber 13.
He wasn’t making it any less subtle that he was staring at me, too. I forced a swallow.
Sprinting left and turning his body right, he instantly caught the ball in his hands as soon as he heard the call. He’s fucking good, and I hate it. The star Quarterback. Why am I not surprised that’s how he ended up?
Shit, fuck. I wish I didn’t care. I walked quicker. At least I could spot my car now, which was good. The faster I could get in my car, the quicker I didn’t feel the need to stare.
I looked over one last time to try and see him. Unfortunately, his dad, the team's coach, pulled him over. The ex-police officer was now head of the high school football team. Joy.
I hated his dad. Growing up, Derrick Voss was always a total dick. The kind of guy who smiled to your face while talking shit behind your back. The worst part was I never felt like he treated Tobias that well. Their interactions always felt tense. Tobias always seemed stiff, guarded... he never smiled around his dad. Something just always felt off.
Whatever. What do I know, anyway?
I watched as his dad gripped the back of Tobias’s neck, yanking him in to say something. The gesture looked rough, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that his dad was staring straight at me while he did it.
Did he catch Tobias looking at me? Did he hate me for some reason? What did I ever do?
Tobias removed his helmet and looked down at his feet. His damp blonde hair hung before his eyes. His dad looked a lot like him, but more prominently, with broader shoulders and shorter blonde hair. They looked so much alike, but they had no similar character traits. Good riddance.
I finally reached my car and slipped in. Dropping my book bag on the seat beside me, I took a moment to breathe in and out.
Trying and failing to rid lingering feelings of Tobias from my mind.
It’s going to be a long night.
***
“Lil’ Eli is in the house!” Our top baker, Yari, calls out to me as I walk through the door. I couldn’t help but laugh as he made a ridiculous dance up on the spot, welcoming me in.
“Woah, we’re busy in here,” I smiled. I looked at the full tables of smiling, laughing families and people of all age groups filling the dining room. Over the years, the restaurant has only gotten more popular. After its growing success, the past owners, Bill and Stacy, couldn’t handle the growth in their old age and decided to pass complete ownership of the restaurant to my dad.
Since taking over, my dad has been doing wonders with the place. He transformed it from a small hole in the wall into a 5-star Italian restaurant specializing in stone-oven pizzas. It’s incredible.
“Thanks to you! Your video about our Friday specials just hit 50K views on TikTok.” Dad called out to me as I made my way through the double doors of the back kitchen. He took what looked like a margarita pizza out of the stone oven. My mouth watered, thinking about how good it would probably taste. I'm definitely ordering one of those when I get off work later.
“You make it easy to hit those views when you keep making pizzas like that.” I smiled, nodding to his creation.
He smiled back, walked over to me, and gave me a quick side hug and a loud kiss on the cheek.
“Couldn’t do it without you, kid. Now, grab a slice of pizza from the side station and a water bottle. Go change, and you’ll take the next table that walks in.” He grabbed the small kitchen towel that was resting on his shoulder, twisted it up, and smacked my butt hard.
“Ouch! Dammit, Dad.” I laughed, following his orders.
“Move! Move! We’ve got mouths to feed.” He laughed back, exiting the kitchen.
The rest of the night went flawlessly. My tables tipped me so well that I could afford to buy that new lens for my camera that I’ve been wanting.
Dad rounded the corner and leaned on a ledge to peer into the dining room. It was almost midnight, and the night was winding down.
“It’s almost closing time. Do you want to close up shop, or do you want Claire to do it?” Dad said, looking at his watch.
I scanned the dining room. There was only one table left, which was mine. “I’ll stay on. I’ve had a good night, so I might as well keep the good energy flowing. You can send Claire home.”
Dad smirked, firmly grasping my shoulder. “That’s my boy.” He walked away back into the kitchen.
I went to sit with Claire, who was rolling cutlery at one of our booths.
“Claire, you’re all done for the night.” I smiled, sliding in the seat across from her.
“Seriously? Yay! It’s still early enough for me to meet up with Tommy.” She shimmied. She was a cute girl—my age, blonde with big boobs. You know the type.
“I do not know why you waste time with us, Private School boys. One of the football guys, to say the least. Don’t you want better?”
She laughed, hitting me with one of the napkins in her hand before rolling cutlery into it. “It’s not their fault you hate them.” She rolled her eyes.
“Yes, it is. They’re obnoxious and egotistical. They think they can be mean to everyone because they’re good at sports. It’s pathetic.” I said, shaking my head.
“Sure. And you don’t think there’s not the same type of guys involved in art and drama?” She squinted. “Hell, I’ve even met jerk so-called nerds. Jerks come in all shapes and sizes, I’m afraid.” She shook her head.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I guess so…”
“You just have to find the diamond in the rough. There’s always a couple…” She smiled at me.
I bit my lip and looked down at my hands. “I highly doubt that,” I muttered more to myself than anything.
“You may be surprised.” She gripped my forearm, bringing my attention back to her. She was so sweet.
That’s when the bell to the restaurant rang, and loud voices swam through the doors.
“Oh, look. Speak of the devil.” Claire beamed, jumping up from her seat. “Tommy, hey! I’m all done for the night.” She giggled, prancing over to one of the football guys.
My jaw tightened as I looked up and locked eyes with him.
He’s here.