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told me stories about each one of them.  I'm drawn into all his versions of them and am becoming more and more impressed with him.
    One afternoon while reminiscing about his family, he mentioned, gazing up toward the horizon, "The leash has to be taken off.  It’s not gonna happen till I can break away from him.  It’s a pattern, Bluebird.  They all got out of here, and that's what I plan to do too."
    When I questioned him more about his statement, he just leaned in, gave me a peck on the cheek, and said, "No worries, Bluebird.  I'm gonna do something really important and it doesn't involve staying in this town."
    I let it go, because at that point, thinking about the possibility of him leaving was unbearable for my heart.  Although these feelings I’ve cultivated for him are getting stronger and stronger.  I'll be devastated when he’s no longer here.  My reaction is inescapable. 
    Winter approached with a cold spell or two, quite normal for this Florida coastal town. With the season, it also brought my seventeenth birthday.  Grayson surprised me with an exquisitely crafted pink heart charm as my gift, which he delivered personally during our lunch break in the school cafeteria.  I was completely shocked as he walked toward me, holding my present in one hand and a lit pink cupcake in the other.  He began singing, “Happy Birthday to you…” and before I realized it, the whole cafeteria filled of my peers was singing along with him like the chorus at a recital.  A humbling moment, for sure.  I still wasn’t sure what the pink charm was for, but I accepted it because it was from him.
    Then one day before holiday break, Grayson gave me an elegant platinum charm bracelet with an army charm hanging off it, and that’s when the pink heart charm clicked. 
    “Oh, wow...just wow, Grayson.  This is an amazing gift.” My eyes pooled with unshed tears from the tenderness of his gift.
    The enormity of his gesture cracked the surface around my heart!  It’s the most precious present anyone has ever given me.  I had nothing to give him in return, except my friendship along with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 
    "I didn’t expect something in return, Bluebird.   Just wanted to see that sparkle in your gorgeous eyes and know that I put it there,” he motioned to my smiling face and then laid his hand over his heart.  “I wanted you to have something from me. ‘Tis the season of giving and kissing and mistletoe, right?” We both burst into laughter at his silly but heartfelt words.
    Grayson’s vocabulary and presentation will be the death of me. He keeps tearing down the walls I’ve built.  Walls to protect my heart.  And for now, we continue on, without being ‘more than friends’.  He mutes my insecurities and soothes my soul.  I'm growing more dependent upon his charming heart. 
     

     
    My father's been acting strange the past few months. I can't quite put my finger on it.  He hasn't been watching my every step for a mistake.  No notes left on my truck at school.  No snide remarks.  I've even approached him about attending West Point again, and he didn't overreact or comment. When I questioned mom, she didn't help at all, saying she had noticed the lack of interaction between us.
    I didn't make curfew last Saturday night, because I was helping Johnny fix his flat tire and totally lost track of time.  When I arrived home, I was expecting the worst, and what greeted me set uneasiness to linger. 
    "Grayson, where have you been, son?" my mom started the interrogation, only to be interrupted by father.
    "You're late," he stated as he got up from his recliner in the family room. I braced myself for impact.
    I stuttered and began rapidly explaining what happened, only for him to continue down the hallway without acknowledging my words.  Stunned that he didn't attack me, I looked to my mom for answers.  She shrugged and nodded her head left to right, biting her bottom lip with worry.
    "He's