Eloquence

“Where are you going?”

“Just for a walk.” Jordan stated simply, slipping on her shoes.

“Where?” Her mother persisted, her brows furrowed.

“Just around.” She shrugged. “I don’t really have a destination.”

“Well here-” Her mother reached into her pocket, pulling out her mobile phone. “Call if you have any problems, okay?”

Jordan rolled her eyes, taking the phone from her mother. “Don’t worry, Mum. It’s day time. Nothing happens.”

“It’s really nothing like home here.” Her mother shook her head. “I just want you to be safe, okay?”

“Okay.” She nodded, taking the brass door knob in her hand. “Bye Mum.”

“Bye, Jordan.” She smiled, waving. “Love you, Hun.”

“Love you.” Jordan mumbled, softly shutting the door behind her and skipping off toward the elevators.

Despite the fact that she hadn’t exactly learned to love the city yet, she liked the idea of using an elevator to get to and from her house multiple times during a day. The only time she got to use elevators back home was when her mother took her to the shopping centre, which wasn't very often at all.

She found it easier to navigate through the streets with the sun out. The buildings that tower over her didn’t cast that almost opaque darkness they had the night before, and the people whizzing past her, chattering loudly to one another made it impossible for her to feel alone.

But now that she was surrounded by people, she almost felt as though she was invisible. When a person looked at her, they weren't acknowledging her existence, they were looking past her as if she wasn’t there at all. She was unsure whether she liked the idea of being invisible any more than the idea of being alone. It made her feel insignificant. She would rather feel like the only person on earth than no one at all. One thing she had learned last night was that even when you feel completely alone, there is someone around, even if you can't see them.

Jordan was surprised she remembered how to get there. She had taken so many turns, she wasn’t sure she would have remembered them. She managed to find it, however. It was a place far too distinctive to miss, and that strange, grassy odor still lingered in the air. Now that it was bright out, she could see the deep red shade of the bricks, and the brightly coloured words written in spray paint on the wall parallel to her. She wasn't intimidated anymore. Not like she had been last night, at least.

She never would have thought that an alley way in the city would have any sort of appeal to her. She thought that just living in a place like that would be enough to keep her locked up inside for the rest of her years. She thought she'd be scared, but she wasn't. She was curious. Now she wanted to wander the streets, see all the different kind of people, and find places unlike the ones back home. She wanted to find places that would have scared her before, and embrace them. She wanted to make her way across the alley to the rickety stair well she had found herself perched on the night before, and she was determined to do so.

She watched her feet with every step her took, inching closer and closer to the set of stairs. She brought her gaze upwards, her eyes landing on the figure sitting at the bottom of the steps. She felt the joints in her legs lock up, and she was frozen in her place, staring memorized at the boy. His hair was a light shade of brown, sitting on his head in a disheveled, curly mess. His skin was like porcelain, pale and smooth. She almost envied him. Her skin was dotted with millions of tiny, reddish-brown freckles that she'd give anything to be rid of.

Upon realizing she was staring, her cheeks burned a deep shade of crimson, and she turned on her heels. Her legs moved quickly, escaping the alleyway hopefully before the boy noticed her presence.

"Jordan?" She tensed. "No-No! Jordan, come back!"

Sheepishly, she turned back to face him. How he knew her name, she hadn't the slightest clue, but she was curious.

"Please don't let me stop you from coming over here." He smirked, gesturing to the space beside him. She raised her brows. "I'm not going to bite you."

She took a step forward. No more, no less. "Who are you?"

He chuckled. "How many other people have you ever met lurk on staircases?"

She pursed her lips. "You're the guy from last night?"

"Mhm." He leaned back, reaching in his pocket and extracting a pack of Marlboro cigarettes. "You left before I could introduce myself."

"Well, go ahead then." She mumbled, watching as he took a cigarette from the pack and slid the filter between his slightly parted lips.

"Go ahead?" He chuckled, pressing a the flame of the lit match to the end of his smoke. He inhaled, taking the cigarette between his index and middle finger, parting his lips and releasing the smoke. "Okay. Well, I'm Andrew."

"That's a boring name." She said quietly.

He chuckled again, raising his brows at her. "You think my name is boring?"

"Yeah." She nodded her head.

"Well, what makes Jordan so interesting?" He asked curiously. "Other than the fact that it's typically a guys name."

"I don't know." She shrugged. "I never said mine was interesting."

"Hmmm." He inhaled again, breathing the smoke from his nostrils. "Well, if it makes it any better, I like your name."

"Thanks." She mumbled, eying the cigarette between his lips. "That's a bad habit, you know. They can kill you."

"What?" He took the cigarette from his lips, holding it up. "This?"

She nodded.

"Well, we're all going to die some day." He shrugged. "You only live once, you know?"

"I guess." She shrugged her shoulders, shoving her hands into the pockets of her button-up sweater.

"Come." He pat the seat beside him. "Sit with me."

Her eyes flickered from his face, to the spot, then back again. "Okay."

Slowly, she made her way towards him and sat down on the cool metal. She made sure the skirt of her dress was pulled over her knees, and folded her hands on her lap.

"Do you always sit like that?" He asked curiously.

She looked down at her hands. "Yeah, I suppose."

"Interesting." He mumbled, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the ground.

She took a strand of her long, brown hair, twisting it nervously. "So, how old are you?"

"Seventeen." He answered simply, smiling softly as he watched her from behind his brown-rimmed, Ray Ban-style sunglasses.

"Aren't you a little young to be smoking?" She furrowed her brow.

"Well, it's safer than walking the streets at night."

She smiled. "But that won't turn my teeth yellow."

He chuckled. "Touche."

The two of them fell silent, and though Andrew seemed to be completely comfortable, Jordan was not. She didn't like the quiet.

"Why do you have a scarf tied around your head?" She mumbled. "Are you a ninja?"

He laughed. "No. I just like it there."

"Oh." She nodded.

"I take it you don't talk very much?" His brows raised.

"Not really." She glanced up at him.

"Why not?"

"What's the point of speaking if there's nothing worth-while to say?" She shrugged.

"I suppose that's a good way to look at it." He smiled. "But sometimes, it's good to make conversation, even if you're speaking complete shinfo."

"Shinfo?"

"Shitty info." He chuckled.

"Oh." She nodded. "Well, I don't have anything to say."

"Tell me about yourself." He leaned back, reaching back into his jeans pocket.

"What would you like to know?" Jordan asked curiously, looking up at him from beneath her light, reddish lashes.

"I don't know. Like, favourite music, favourite colour." He pulled out of the box of cigarettes once more, sliding one out and placing between his lips. "That kind of stuff."

She reached over, snatching the box from his hands and the cigarette from his mouth. "You just had one." She hissed. "You're going to kill yourself."

He snorted. "Doubt that."

"Well, you're at least going to have one of those chain-smoker voices." She slid it back into the package. "Like, Vincent Price."

"Maybe that's how I want to sound." He took the box back. "I don't think you care so much for my health, as you do about me smoking around you."

"Maybe." She giggled. "My Mum can smell cigarette smoke from a mile away, and she'll probably smell it on me when I get home."

"Mothers are interesting in that way." He opened the pack again, taking another cigarette out. "That's why I'm stuck smoking outside while she's at work."

"Can't she smell it on you?" She raised her brows.

"Well, normally she would, but when I go inside, I usually change and take a shower." He shrugged.

"All that trouble for this stupid habit?" She gestured to his cigarette.

"Well, changing isn't so bad." He grinned. "And I usually shower because it's the hygienic thing to do. Washing off the smell is just a plus."

"I see."

"What school do you go to?" He lit up the cigarette.

"I don't." She watched as the smoke poured out of his mouth. "My Mum home schools me."

"Home school, huh?" He flicked the ashes on the pavement. "What's that like?"

"Good, I guess." She shrugged her shoulders. "I imagine it would be better than going to an actual school."

"Why is that?"

"Because I don't really like people." She explained.

"Do you like me?" Andrew glanced down at her.

She eyed him for a moment. "No."

He laughed. "Not at all?"

"Well, I've only just met you, and all I know about you is that you lurk in stair cases at night, chain smoke cigarettes and wear scarves around you head."

She hadn't expected him to laugh at that, but he was seemingly full of surprises. "That's all that most people know about me."

"Why were you sitting in the stair well last night?" She asked curiously.

"I could ask you the same question." He shot back.

"But I asked first."

He chuckled. "I live right-" He reached up, pointing to one of the windows five or so stories above. "There."

"So, you just sit here for fun?" She raised her brows.

"Well, kind of. I guess." He chuckled. "And because it would have been even harder to get rid of the smell."

"The smell of what?" She paused. "You mean that weird grassy smell?"

He laughed. "Yeah, that."

"What was that?"

"You ask a lot of questions." He chuckled.

"I know." She smiled. "But you do too."

"Not as many as you do." He insisted. "But I suppose that's what comes with being a kid. You're curious."

"You're not that much older than I am." She pointed out.

"Three years."

"Well, I'll be fifteen really soon, then it'll only be two." She said quickly.

"Yeah, but then I'll be turning eighteen shortly after."

She smirked. "At least I won't be old."

"Oh, c'mon." He laughed. "Eighteen? Old? Pfft."

"Well, you'll technically be an adult with responsibilities, and I'll still be a kid." She sighed. "Without responsibilities."

"But with responsibilities comes privileges." He shrugged.

"Like what? You can't legally drink or buy cigarettes."

"I can buy lottery tickets and vote." He explained.

She wrinkled her nose. "How is that fun?"

He laughed. "Because I can legally have a say in what person runs our country?"

"But your vote doesn't necessarily get taken into account." She explained. "It's just another vote to them."

"You really know how to bring people down." He noted.

"Just stating the obvious." She put her hands up in defense.

"Yeah." He laughed. "The obvious."

She rolled her eyes, resting her chin on the palm of her hand.

He took a drag from the cigarette he had been neglecting. "Have you ever tried smoking before?"

"No." She furrowed her brow. "Never."

"Hmm." He eyed her for a minute. "You should try things before you judge them."

"But some things are bad, so I don't need to try them to know that."

"But you've never tried it." He grinned. "You don't know if it's bad or not." He paused. "And plus; some girls look really sexy with a cigarette between their fingers."

She gave him an odd look. "Well, lucky for me, I'm not trying to look sexy." She chuckled. "So I have nothing to worry about."

"Nonsense! All girls want to be sexy."

"I'm not all girls." She smiled.

"I can tell." He leaned back, crossing his thin arms over his chest.

"Andrew!" A shrill voice came from above them, and he cursed.

"That's my Mom." He threw the cigarette to the ground and stepped on it. Reaching into his back pocket, he took out a pack of gum, and shoved a stick into his mouth.

"Home early?" She tilted her head to the side.

"Yeah." He breathed, starting to climb up the stairs. "But uhm-" He turned back to her, rubbing the back of his neck with the palm of his hand. "You'll come back some time, right?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Sure."

"Cool." He smiled. "I can guarantee that I'll be here when you do." He paused. "Well, not really guarantee. Almost. More so during the day than at night."

"Okay." She nodded.

"Bye Jordan." He sprinted up the stairs, reaching his window and nearly hurling himself inside.

She stood, shaking the wrinkles out of the skirt of her dress. "Bye Andrew."