My name is Christian. Most of the people I know call me Chris. Although my mom calls me Christian Edward Matthews whenever she's mad. I don't really like my middle name all that much, but of course, I never tell her that. Currently, I'm 19 years old and in my senior year in high school. I started a bit late into school so I'm older than most by at least a year.
The rhythm of your steps on the stairs announces your presence and I look up from chopping the peppers as you unlock the latch. Still dusted with flour from work at the bakery, you look just as juicy as that day last fall when I picked you up at the gym. You slip the bandanna off your head and shake free the mop of red-gold curls it contains. "I got the stuff you wanted from the market. Angelo is bringing it up." I raise an eyebrow, wondering what you are up to. That impish look is all over your face, and your cheeks are flushed. Girl, don't I know that look!