“I-I’m here for a two-person reservation. I think the other person is here already, a Miss Polakoff?”

“Ahh, you’re the friend Anna mentioned earlier. She’s waiting for you. Please follow me.”

Grabbing a menu beforehand, the hostess smiled and escorted me through the quiet, empty restaurant. After having only a quick walk through the place, I noticed the exact angles and descriptions from the online reviews and pictures; it was the physical embodiment of a romantic Italian getaway. And I sure as hell didn’t fit in.

Walking past a number of tables, the hostess brought me to the back of the restaurant, stopping in front of a set of closed, large blue velvet curtains. She stepped to the side and pulled on a long hanging rope, slowly opening them. I had to quickly cover my eyes when a bright light came from behind the curtains.

Continue reading My Young One Part Eight

This was the first real time I was meeting with Miss Polakoff outside of our morning car rides together. I was actually surprised when she openly invited me to her most favorite Italian restaurant in the entire city. Who would have thought that simple car rides would eventually lead me into having somebody inviting me out to some fancy restaurant?

When she told me the name of the place I looked it up, and instantly felt like I didn’t belong there, long before actually setting foot inside. The restaurant was covered in elegant, white drapers that reached the floor from the ceiling. All of the servers were dressed in pristine suits and dresses. The entire mood felt like a romantic getaway to Italy. Just from looking at the pictures submitted online by people who left constant five-star reviews, I could already tell that I was going to be the odd one out.

Continue Reading My Young One Part Seven

It’s been a nice couple of days after my first meeting with Arianna. Having driven her to class a few times this week has helped me learn a bit more about her. Even though the car rides last only mere minutes, I found myself growing more attached to her with every passing day.

It’s nice being able to have a chat with somebody outside of my normal circle of friends and acquaintances. Even if she is half my age.

Our rides together have been following a normal routine as of late. She would typically text me the night before, asking if it’s okay for me to drive her to class. I happily oblige her and tell her I’d love to. She’s been getting more comfortable contacting me the morning of class, finally accepting that it’s no bother to me to send a message an hour or two before class. She can honestly text me even fifteen minutes before, but I know she’s not like—she has respect for people and their free time.

Continue reading My Young One Part Six

The gentle tones of piano keys played in the background as I stared at the intricate marble ceiling, hoping that I would just naturally fall asleep. The lights were all off, with only the natural moonlight gently shining through the windows. Everything was cloaked in a faint white light.

It’s a crazy thing how my life ended up like this. Thankfully it was MY life now, not “our” life. All of the nights spend having arguments and yelling at one another were about to come to an end. The sleepless nights wondering when Travis was going to come home. I could do whatever I wanted without having a care.

Staring at the ceiling did nothing to help me drift off, it just made me anxious. I rolled onto my side and stared at the mirror across the room, seeing my faint reflection in it. As I stared I saw my phone light up on the nightstand.

Continue reading My Young One Part Five

My car quickly came to a smooth stop as I pulled up in front of the college campus. Students of all ages and sizes were walking through the front courtyard, getting from one class to another. As soon as she could, the young woman opened the passenger side door and vaulted from her seat. Getting a tight grip on the strap of her backpack, she readied herself to sprint to class. But there was a few more things I wanted to know before I let her go.

Right before she rushed off, I learned over my seat and called out to hear, “No ‘thank you’ for saving your grades?”

Catching her off-guard, the young woman quickly turned around to face me and began bowing. Obvious to say, but she surprised me when she did that. Regardless, it was a gesture that was well received.

Continue reading My Young One Part Three

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

I chuckled when the young woman said that, “I think I do, since you’ve been saying it over and over ever since you got in.”

“Well, it’s true. You really saved me from having to take an extra course next semester.”

We pulled up to a red light, and I used it as a chance to look at the young woman. Even after offering her a ride to class, she kept on crying away. At least this time, I hoped, they were tears of joy and appreciation.

She noticed me looking at her and gave the biggest smile possible, practically grinning from ear-to-ear. Her cheeks were flushed and chubby, showing off the tiny dimples she had.

God, she’s adorable when she smiles. She can land herself a husband just by doing that.

Continue reading My Young One Part Two

It’s not often that I find myself people watching while I’m out and about at my favorite Italian restaurant. Everything here was made fresh daily, from the collection of sauces used for the different array of dishes, the pasta noodles all done by hand, and even the simple pane toscano bread baked in traditional iron ovens was prepared before the restaurant opened. My sense of smell was always surrounded by the delicious aroma of Italy.

I’m usually either reading my favorite book or watching a movie on my phone to pass the time; I tend not to pay attention to what other people were doing. But today, I couldn’t help but notice something.

The bus across the street just left its stop, quickly taking off down the street. Right as it left, a young woman went sprinting for the stop but couldn’t make there in time. She took a seat at the bus stop and dropped her backpack, throwing her face into her hands.

Continue reading My Young One Part One