muffin-dust

 In the morning, I woke up right when the hotel began serving breakfast and was the first one downstairs. That doesn’t have much to do with Blake, it’s just a point of pride. Every Morrison meet I was either the first or one of the first people downstairs to eat breakfast. The rush wasn’t necessary, I just enjoyed it. When Blake and Hayden finally staggered out of their room and downstairs, I had already finished eating and was going to head back up to pack and get ready. “Geez. You guys look super awake,” I said as they got their food. “We played techno and ate tortilla chips and drank Tang,” Bla

 I was looking forward to the Morrison meet more than anything. It came around the beginning of October, and was the only real “away” meet we had. Morrison High School was located in another city, about 8 hours away by bus. We’d go down on a Friday, swim on Saturday, and come back that evening. We would’ve stayed two nights, but our school’s crappy football team stole our funding. I’m still a little bitter. My friends and I used the first afterparty of the season to discuss the most important part of the Morrison meet: the seating arrangements for the bus. Hayden and Lucy were flirting almost non-stop, an

       I can always tell when I'm developing a crush on someone. I can feel it like I'm coming down with a cold. So when I started to realize that soon, I'd like Blake as more than a friend, I knew that I had to break up with my boyfriend. I'd already done the dating-someone-while-liking-someone-else thing, and it had sucked. Pining from afar was shit anyway, but it worked out much better if you didn't have to pretend to be invested in a relationship anymore.       I didn't know Todd very well. He'd asked me out through a friend near the end of summer vacation, surprising me. I'd seen him around the school during freshman year, but we hadn'

       His eyes were mesmerizing. They seemed to change shade with the color of his shirt, though I know that was an illusion. They were a brilliant blue shot through in the middle with gold. They were the kind of eyes that could jolt right through your brain, rooting you to the spot and making you forget what you were saying. I tried not to look directly into his eyes, because if I did I was immediately lost, drowning and trying to find my voice before I slipped away completely.        His name was Blake Jones, and he burned my sophomore year of high school into my mind like a branding iron, leaving the stamp of my infatuation on all my memo