A Note from Yours Truly: I would, first, like to clarify that this story was written last December. I just now got the courage to post it. *gulp* Go easy on me and note that the events and emotions are, indeed, dated.
Secondly, although it may seem like there are undertones of negativity in this short story, I would like to say that the two gentlemen the story deals with are both wonderful people and I feel truly blessed and privileged to have known them and learned some valuable life lessons from them.
Only good vibes and optimism to both of them.

The phone rings and his weary, bloodshot eyes flicker away from the mound of homework that has been the cause of his lack of sleep this past week. The name on that caller ID used to make his heart leap, but tonight, he tussles his hair between his fingers with a deep sigh, wondering, at the sight of the name on the clock, if he has time for her. On the third ring, against his "better judgement" he answers.
He mumbles out a hello, and the girl is so quick to respond that she nearly cuts him off. Her voice is so full of emotion, like she'd just been crying. Not long ago, the sound of this girl's raw sadness probably would have brought tears to his own eyes, but recently, her tears were commonplace and he was stoic.
"Pick me up," she had just croaked, sobs constricting her usually pure and lilty voice, "I need out of here!"
"I have so much homework," he replied, "I wish I could...."
"Please," she was begging now.
He hesitated for a few seconds. He had been hard at work for a while now. He could use a break, even if it was to hear a sob story he didn't really care to listen to.
"I don't have very long...." he said.
"That's fine. I'll talk really fast, I swear!"
"Okay. Text you when I'm on your road." he said. He'd been doing that for three years. It wasn't really necessary that he say it, but he did anyway.
When he arrived in her driveway, he parked and waited. If this was a year-or-so ago, he would have gone inside to greet her mother and little brother. He'd loved this family once, but he thought it best to stay in his truck tonight.
He caught a glimpse of her saying goodbye to her brother in the window, then she darted out the door into the late-November air. She looked adorable in sweatpants and his old coat he'd given her as a Christmas gift one year. Her golden curls hung loose and wild and her eyes were red from shed tears. Still, she smiled at him when she opened the door and jumped into his truck.
"Thank you thank you thank you!" She exclaimed with a sniffle.
"Yeah," he muttered, "where to?"
"Just drive," she responded, clearly discouraged by his short response.
"So what's up?" he asked, forcing an interested tone as he cranked the heat and pointed the vents her way to remedy her shivering. The girl was always cold - something he'd learned over many years of her digging her frigid toes under him and having him warm her icy hands with his own unusually warm ones.
"We balance each other out!" he used to tell her, but he hadn't said that in years.
When the girl spoke, it was clear that she was trying her best to be emotionally stable for him. Apparently, she and her mother had gotten into another one of their fights. This was normal - she and her mother were always close, but often did not see eye-to-eye.
He advised at all the right times. stayed silent when he thought it was right, and nodded when he should. It crossed his mind that he should really pull that truck over, unbuckle his seatbelt, pull her little body over the console, and hold her. 
But he knew better. He couldn't follow through on all the subliminal messages that were made by doing something like that. He couldn't deal with the pain he'd cause her if he didn't do what she would expect because of something like that. He couldn't be with her.
Subconsciously, he'd driven to the little lake they used to go on her four-wheeler to watch the sunset and the fish jump at the end of summer. When he parked the vehicle, he became aware of the silence between them. She was finished venting.
"Gonna get scared of a little raccoon again?" She teased.
"Shut up!" he chuckled.
For the next 20 minutes, they joked and laughed and talked about everything. As this girl sat completely backwards in the seat next to him, leaning against the dash with her feet on the headrest, laughing unabashedly, he had this overwhelming sense of missing her, even though she was no more than two feet away.
"I'd better take you home, huh?" he said when silence fell once again. The girl said nothing.

. . . . 

A week later, the girl stood on the inside of his front door, waiting. Waiting for him to ask her to stay, waiting for him to tell her he loved her. Waiting for him to make her understand why - after all she'd given up for him, all those times she'd been there for him despite all the turmoil he put her through - he couldn't just be with her.
But he was silent.
So she filled the silence by slamming the door behind her.
That morning, she bawled the entire way to her first class of the day. She felt free, but it had come at a price - a price she'd finally been willing to pay. In the parking lot, she fixed her makeup and wiped away tears, settling for barely-there mascara and bloodshot eyes. The more of that day she got through, the stronger she became.
She felt like she had won.

. . . . 

A month later, she sat across from a man. A man who truly heard her when she spoke. A man who made her laugh until she could barely breathe. A man who intended on paying for the entire meal in front of them and watching her favorite movie with her that night. A man who wanted to show her off instead of keep her a secret. This man made her feel small and safe and protected. This man filled her up and did not suck her dry.
Finally, after years of turning down good guys to go back to the only one she'd ever really known, she'd found an outstanding one. She was doing what was RIGHT for her. She was making herself happy. She was proud of herself, for the first time in a long time, and she truly felt self-worth. She was no longer being dragged around or bogged down by her past. She was really, truly FREE.
When she looked back on the first boy who had ever won her heart, she looked back with fondness. The memories they made would never be forgotten. He was not the same person then as he was now. But that was okay....
People change - even the ones who swore they never would. We must move on and lead separate lives, even when we do not want to accept it. But when we stop fighting our fate, stop fighting God's plan, we often find that, just around the corner, there's something so much better in store.

Sincerely, 

My Gypsy Soul.