Part One: Chapter One
“Dear Diary,
“I love you” have to be thee most unfair phrase of all the gazillion sentences words can form.
I mean, we use them like toilet paper.
Sometimes we mean them, sometimes we don’t.
But one this is for sure.
We throw the words away like garbage.
Isn’t it funny? I’ve never used that phrase with anyone that isn’t family or close girlfriends.
I’ve never told a boy that I love him.
16 and I’ve never been in teenage love before.
I think that’s that only thing more unfair then “I love you.”
If anybody ever came up to me and asked me,
“Kaycee, if you could name one boy that you’ve honestly, truly loved, who would that be?”
And I wouldn’t hesitate, but I would simply answer
“Scott.” On my growing list of unfair things,
he would defiantly be number three. Or maybe number two.
I haven’t decided yet.
Ohhhh Scott. Scott, Scott, Scott. Where to begin? Well, the beginning, I guess.
Now, I’m pretty good with remembering dates, but I don’t remember what date I officially started liking Scott.
If you wanted me to guess I would say August 24th, 2006.
It was two days before school started, and Scott had just
going out with a girl named Agnes, and I was just out of this
thing with a guy named Danny that had been on and off since
fourth grade. I was at “Grease” play practice.
Scott and I had been going to school together for our entire
lives. I was in girl scouts with his twin sister, Stacey, and I
still am at 16. This girl in my grade had been obsessed with him
since I could remember. Scott had always been in my life,
I just never noticed him.
Until that day.
Had he always had such pretty eyes? I always thought they had
been muddy brown, but they where on the verge of gold. More
coppery, but close. They had gold flecks in them, defiantly.
Had his air always been that soft? It’s red. I’ve never seen
such a beautiful shade of soft red hair on anyone, especially
a boy. And had he always been so tall? And cute? And charming?
And funny? When had he even come into my life? Why hadn’t
I noticed him before?
Why did I always have to like guys I knew wouldn’t like me back?
Mark the time and day, I officially had a crush on Scott Williams.
The first person I told was my best friend of four years,
Chris Thornton. Chris had a big mouth. He immediately ran and
told a girl named Amanda, who was best friends with Agnes.
Agnes and I never really got along after that day.
I could never figure out why, until recently.
But I’ll get to that later.
So you can imagine that this got around the grade pretty fast,
but I didn’t really mind. Everyone always knew who I liked.
I was Kaycee. Everyone knew everything about me.
But I wanted to be the one who told Scott.
I don’t remember if I told him before this, I mean I’m sure
he knew, but this is the first time I remember the words
coming out of my mouth to him.
It was after our first volleyball game of the season.
His mom was my coach, and I had to admit that I was one of
the best players. Sports have never been my forte, but I
was great at volleyball. Fortunately, so had Scott.
Well my dad sometimes stayed after games to help clean up,
and it was me, Scott, and this girl named Brynn Jennings left
in the gym one night. Brynn, I guess trying to embarrass me,
yelled across the gym,
“Hey Kaycee! I heard that you like Scott!”
We both knew he was right next to her. I wasn’t stupid;
I knew it was a trap. I didn’t even bother denying it.
I didn’t even bother blushing.
“Yup.” I said nonchalantly, turning to do something I can’t recall at the moment.
“And you admit it?” She asked me incredulously. I shrugged.
“Why not? Everyone knows. I don’t care.”
“But you’d say it in front of Scott.” She pressed.
“He already knows.” I countered lightly.
“Then say it.” I turned to open the door but shouted over my shoulder.
“Hey Scott!” I said to him, raising my arms in a
“what can you do about it?” way. “I like you!”
And I left the gym, leaving what I supposed was a
stunned Scott and Brynn. I got the last laugh. But
that wasn’t the end of the night.
After Brynn had left and everything was all cleaned up,
me and Scott and our parents were walking to our cars,
Scott trudging along next to me, his head bowed against
the cold December wind and his hands stuffed in the pockets
of his blue Northface. Scott broke the silence.
“That was brave of you.” He said softly, for our parents were close behind.
“What was?” I asked him.
“Standing up to Brynn. It was brave.” I waved my hand and
sat down on the curb, letting my dad and Scott’s mom pass us.
“I’m not scared.” I answered him.
“Scared of what?” Scott asked me, sitting next to me.
I hugged my knees to my chest and stared at him. The
wind bite at our cheeks, flushing them. He looked like a
winter angel, with his rosy cheeks and the wind brushing
his hair away from him eyes gently. I was jealous. I wished
I could do that.
“I’m not scared of telling people how I feel.” I said solemnly.
My heart gave a painful squeeze. How I wished he could say it back.
I wanted that so bad.
“I wish I could do that.” He whispered.
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