Where'd I get the necklace? Well. . .

It's a widely known myth that when the clasp of your necklace comes forward that someone is thinking about you. The very thought makes the high school girls, the exact group I've made fun of on numerous occasions I might add, melt down from the inside at the idea. Despite that fact, I couldn't help smiling when my fingers found the clasp as they were fingering the thick golden chain that hung around my neck. In my own defense, this necklace has its own story, it has a special significance.

I'm a senior in high school, with a job and different responsibilities, but I am still a little kid at heart. I am a huge Disney fan; I've gone to Disneyland almost every year of my life. Each trip I've bought at least one of those collectible pins, and now I have so many that I had to buy a sweater to fit all of them. You can get all different kinds, movie or ride based. I'm partial to any of the Pirates of the Caribbean themed pins, probably because my older brother, Nicolas, could do an uncanny Jack Sparrow impersonation, and he was my role model in more ways than one. Anyway, a couple years ago I was lucky enough to find a pin of the Cursed Aztec Medallion. At the time, it was probably my favorite pin, and I made sure to point it out to everyone who stopped me to admire my jacket, because it is a sight to behold, if I do say so myself.

So when I wore the jacket into work, I made sure to point it out to every single one of my coworkers.

"Hey! I have one of those necklaces," said Damon, one of my best friends, when I pointed it out to him.

"That is so awesome! I wanted the necklace, but my dad wouldn't let me buy it," I said jealously.

"That sucks," he said with a small smile and a shrug.

I tried keeping my knees from buckling as the smile melted away at the edges of my heart.

At that point, I was just happy to have a reason to talk to the guy. I was - okay, okay, am - pathetic enough to focus on that small tidbit of conversation until we worked together again, two days later. I walked in and he was already behind the counter. He smiled when I walked in, and I couldn't help my mad rush to the break room so that I could clock in and talk to him (so the managers couldn't get mad at me for distracting anyone 'on shift).

I let myself into the stand and found him around the corner. He was helping a couple of the guests, so I began to help him gather the order of popcorn and a soda. Once they cleared out he turned to me and smiled.

"Jo, I've got a present for you!"

"Wha -?"

"Just wait here, I'll be right back," he said before turning toward the break room and pushing through the door.

I strained my ears, desperate for some hint at what he was going to do. When I heard the door open again I closed my eyes so as not to ruin the surprise.

"Oka- Jo, why are you closing your eyes?" he asked, and I could hear the mocking smile stretch across his face.

"You said it was a present," I said. "I didn't want to ruin the surprise!"

"You're . . . special, Jo," he said laughing. "Open your eyes."

I had to blink to get my contacts into the right place on my eyes; even then , I couldn't help gasping in surprise when I saw what he was holding out to me. He had the Aztec Gold necklace in his hand.

"You can't be serious," I said, trying to hold in my excitement.

"Yeah, I am. I can guarantee you'll wear it more than I ever did," he said, dropping it into my outstretched hands.

His smile grew wider when I just stared at it for a second, vehement joy surging through my veins. I slipped the large faux-gold chain over my head and fingered the medallion.

"Thank you!" I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "This is SO cool!"

"No problem, Jo," he smiled.

That is how I got it. He just gave it to me, and I must foolishly admit that I haven't taken it off since. I can't believe I'm admitting this, because I never would have expected it of myself, but whenever I find the clasp of the necklace out front I always see it as Damon thinking about me, instead of that elusive 'someone.' That is why the necklace is significant.