Crush on this thing

Chapter 1

When I was seventeen, I was crushing hard on this guy.

My family wasn’t rolling in dough, so I’d been saving for a year to buy him a birthday gift. The day my mom had her accident, I’d skipped out of school early. That’s when I heard him, laughing with his buddy.

“This thing? Man, a participation prize at some diner would be better than this,” he'd said, all smug.

His friend cracked up. “Knowing Ray, he’d never use it. Give it to me, I could hock it for some internet time.”

“Whatever, take it,” Ray tossed it at him like it was trash, and our eyes met.

Years later, at our high school reunion, I heard Ray had been looking for me for eight years.

1.When Ray and I made eye contact, his face tightened. His buddy, holding the watch, looked awkward, scratching his head. “Uh, you want me to give it back?”

The watch was pretty messed up, like it hadn't been cared for. It wasn't a fancy watch, maybe a hundred bucks, but I'd saved for almost a year for it. Every bit of it was from cutting back on lunch money.

My gaze drifted to Ray’s wrist. He was wearing a watch, too. I didn’t recognize the brand, but it was a high-end piece, leagues better than what I’d gotten him.

I took the beat-up watch from Ray’s friend in silence. “Sorry, I’ll just deal with it.”

Ray dropped his gaze, his lips pressed together. He didn’t say a word.

The embarrassment was thick, so I turned and walked out of there. When I passed the first trash can by the school gate, I chucked the watch right in.

I turned back for a last look. Ray raised his eyes, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, his eyes full of mockery.

I froze, dropping my gaze.

My crush was humiliating.

Back then, I didn’t realize that look of his would haunt me.

2.I got home and my dad was sitting on the porch, a cheap cigarette hanging from his lips, looking wrecked.

My mom wasn't there.

He handed me a report. Breast cancer, it said.

Dad took a long drag of his cigarette. “It’s gonna be like, fifteen, twenty grand to treat this thing. Your mom and I talked... We're not going to.”

“Your mom wanted some ribs, go grab some from the store. I'm gonna go pick her up later."

I refused to believe it, flipping through the report. “Did they do the full tests? I mean, they get this wrong all the time, right? Let's get a second opinion tomorrow. It has to be wrong…”

My dad's eyes were red, and he stared at me. He didn’t say anything.

The tears just started rolling. “I’m done with school. Let's use my savings for mom's treatment."

Dad dropped his head.

I knew he hurt just as much as I did. My dad had a bad leg. My mom was the only one who wanted to be with him, didn't look down on him. She always cheered him on.

Our family was poor, but Mom and Dad were crazy about each other.

In middle school, everyone was finding their faith. I asked my dad, “Pop, what’s your faith?”

He didn’t know what “faith” meant, so I explained it.

He laughed, embarrassed, “My faith is your mom.”

And then… I found my faith too.

I wanted to grow up...