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Past 2 am... I just couldn't sleep until this was written...

Mommy, please don't kill me

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The hallways were vacant, due to students either being in the cafeteria or in a classroom, and I led Griffin to a small alcove next to a door. I tried swallowing, but the nerves made my throat completely dry. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, and then I looked up to find Griffin waiting expectantly.

"What did you want to talk about?" Griffin asked, but I could tell he already knew the answer.

"Our date," I said, digging my hands into my sweatshirt pockets. "I wanted to apologize for the way I acted."

"Apology accepted," Griffin replied, and I started to walk away. Before I could blink, my hand shot out and gripped his arm, stopping him.

"I'm not done yet," I said, "I wanted to explain."

"What's there to explain," Griffin said stiffly.

"A lot," I answered, cracking an uncomfortable smile. "The best place to start is the reason I freaked out in the first place."

"I'm listening," Griffin said, and he crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall.

"Okay," I replied, searching for the right way to explain. "I guess the best way to put it is that I have a complicated past. You asking about my dad, it stirred up a lot of emotions, and..." my voice trailed off, and I rubbed my hand against my forehead in frustration.

"I grew up being told not to be vulnerable and not to tell people about my life," I said after a moment. "I don't really know you, and I just couldn't make myself tell you those things because of that."

"Funny thing," Griffin replied, "When two people go on a date, they're supposed to share about each other. I asked you out because I wanted to get to know you, and now you're telling me that you can't let me in."

"No!" I cried, shaking my head. My message wasn't getting through, and it was so irritating. "I'm trying to tell you that I want to get to know you, and as uncomfortable as it might make me, I'm going to try my best to let you get to know me."

Griffin didn't say a word, and I sighed. "You're not interested anymore, I get it. Sorry that I just gave you that huge rambling speech," I said, and I started to hurry away. I didn't want Griffin to see me cry.

This time, Griffin grabbed my arm. He turned me to face him and said, "You really got to stop walking away from me. This whole time you haven't given me a chance." I tried to say something, but Griffin pressed a finger to my lips, shushing me. "Now, it's my turn to talk."

I nodded, and Griffin ran a hand through his hair. "I get it. There are things you don't feel comfortable talking about right now. But, if we're going to try this, then, I need you not going to flip out every time I ask you a question about yourself."

This was going to be hard. Really hard. I think the scariest part of this whole situation was that I didn't know how it would end. I didn't know if the thing between Griffin and I would amount to something. I didn't know if he was the guy I thought and he hoped he was. I didn't know anything, and that terrified me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and replied, "I'll do my best, Griffin."

"Good," he replied, and his mouth curved up into a crooked smile. "Then, we're going to have a second first date on Friday."

"Really?" I asked, smiling with relief. This could work. I was going to try my best to make this work. "Any disclaimers?"

"Just one," he said. "Make sure that you wear clothes that you don't mind getting completely trashed."

I arched an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You'll find out."

*

"What on earth are you wearing?"

I whipped around to find Grandma Aggie standing in my door, her disapproving eyes studying my outfit. I tugged on my shirt self-consciously and replied, "Griffin told me to wear something that I didn't mind getting dirty, so..." my voice trailed off and I gestured at my outfit.

I'd decided on a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt that I'd worn for pajamas when I'd been living on the street, because I honestly didn't care if they got ruined. They were already a bit ripped.

"Oh, thank heavens!" she said with a chuckle. "Griffin is an attractive young man, and I thought that you were dressed like that for a movie and lunch. But, this seems much more appropriate now."

"Thanks," I replied slowly, "I think." I finished pulling my hair into a ponytail as Grandma Aggie padded into the room and sat down on the top of my bed.

"Listen, Sawyer," she said, becoming suddenly serious. "I understand that you grew up without a mother, so if you ever had any questions about intimacy with a guy, you can ask me. I'm sure I know the answer to anything. "

"Oh," I said, and my eyes grew wide. The way she emphasized "anything" made my stomach curl. Every gross mental image possible passed through my mind, and I winced. "Thanks, Grandma. I might take you up on that." Okay, there was no way. I'd come to love Grandma Aggie, but just, no.

The doorbell rang throughout the house, and Grandma Aggie jumped off of the bed. "I'll go get that, okay?" Before I could answer her, Grandma Aggie walked out of the room, and I heard her careful feet as they hurried down the stairs.

I smiled to myself and slipped my phone in my pocket. I flicked off the light and slipped downstairs to find Grandma Aggie showing Griffin her new quilt that she'd made with her quilting club. The woman had more of a social life than I did.

I took a few moments to study Griffin. He had on a pair of ripped, paint-splattered pants and a tight black t-shirt that showed off his defined lacrosse muscles. He was humoring Grandma Aggie, and even started telling a story about how his mom made him a quilt. I leaned in to hear more, and the floor boards beneath me creaked, betraying my presence.

"Hey," he said, his grin getting wider.

"Hi," I said, my cheeks growing red at how hoarse my voice sounded. "Are you ready to go?"

He nodded. "It was nice to see you again, Ms. Wilson," Griffin said to Grandma Aggie. "The quilt is really pretty."

"Why, thank you Griffin," Grandma Aggie replied, beaming at him. "You'll have to come over for dinner sometime. I make some mean chicken dumplings!"

"Sounds awesome," Griffin replied, and he glanced at my clothes. "You're sure those are okay to get dirty?" he asked.

"Yep," I said, shrugging, "I was honestly going to get rid of them, but then you told me to wear something to get trashed."

"Okay," said Griffin, "Then we're off!" I gave Grandma Aggie a quick peck on the cheek and said goodbye, and then I followed Griffin out to his car. I ducked inside, and I as I buckled the seatbelt, I noticed a large tub sitting in the back seat. I reached back to pull up the top out of curiosity, but Griffin grabbed my hand.

"What?" I asked, frowning.

"No peeking," he stated, and he pulled out of the driveway.

"So whatever is inside is for our date?" I asked, and he nodded. I prodded for more details, but Griffin was tight-lipped. After ten minutes, I realized we were driving further into a rural area. "Where are we going?" I asked.

Griffin didn't answer, but a moment later, we pulled onto the driveway of a farm, the gravel crunching beneath the tires. The barn and house looked abandoned, and I leaned forward for a closer look. "Are you an axe murderer?" I asked, "Is this were you bring your victims to kill them?"

Griffin laughed. "No," he replied lightly, "And even if I was, I wouldn't tell you." He pulled to a stop and climbed out of the car, and I followed suit. I watched as Griffin pulled the tub carefully from the car, and he said, "C'mon!"

I sighed and followed as he led me to the back of the barn. I found a bunch of old hay bales set up, and as I took a closer look, I noticed that there were splotches of paint all over the bales. Griffin set down the tub and gestured for me to come over.

Griffin lifted the lid to reveal a ton of small water balloons, but they were filled with a noticeably darker liquid. I pointed and asked, "Are those what I think they are?"

In response, Griffin grabbed one, tossed it up a couple of times before catching it, and then, before I could move, he chucked it at my chest. The latex burst, and paint exploded over the front of my shirt. I gasped, and looked from the blue stain up to Griffin.

He had this gleeful grin on his face, and he was giggling like a little boy. I felt my mouth curve up into a malicious smile, and I bent down to the tub. I gripped a handful of balloons and cried, "You are so dead!"

I threw one at Griffin, and it exploded on the side of his head, covered his cheek and hair in orange paint. Griffin's jaw dropped, and I winked at him. Without a word, he grabbed some balloons, and we stared at each other.

Then, the war began.

There was a lot of hiding behind hay bales, a lot of jumping out at each other. More than once, I jumped on Griffin's back and smashed a balloon on his head. In retaliation, I was usually thrown onto a pile of hay and pelted until I could get up.

Most of all, there was a lot of laughing. We laughed so many times, and we laughed so hard that we'd bend over or collapse and we'd get to the point where we weren't making any sounds as we giggled. It was undoubtedly the most fun I'd had in my entire life.

I sprinted over to the tub to get more ammunition, only to find it empty. "Crap!" I whispered, and I whipped around, looking for Griffin. He was nowhere to be seen, so I rushed away from the tub and jumped behind a hay bale.

I peeked around the edge of the hay, but I couldn't see Griffin. I frowned, but when I turned the other way, I found Griffin sitting there. I cried out in surprise, but before I could move, Griffin brought a balloon down on my head.

It burst, coating my already paint covered head, and I laughed. I wiped away the paint before it could reach my eyes, and my eyes met Griffin's. His soft, chocolate brown eyes caught me, and I found myself at a loss for words.

Griffin reached towards me, and as he tucked a paint-coated tendril of hair behind my ear, I felt my breath catch in my throat. Almost at the same time, Griffin and I leaned in. His hand cupped my face, and my hand went to his neck.

When our lips met, Griffin wrapped his arm around my torso and pulled me into him. Our bodies fit together, and I felt safe in his arms, as cheesy as that sounds. For a first kiss, this was not bad. Not bad at all. However, the basic flavor of the paint that had dripped onto our lips was somewhat distracting.

When we pulled away, I giggled, and Griffin frowned. "What?" he asked, "Was it bad?"

"No!" I replied, trying to stifle my laughter, "No. It... It just tasted like paint."

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There! Tis written, and now i can go to sleep :)

Picture on the side inspired this date. I've had it save on my computer forever, but i couldn't find a story where it would fit, and then this came along.

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