Snake Bite Heart With a Bubble Gum Smile

My bench, the one I currently reside on, is not all that comfortable. I occasionally wish I had a bed instead. However, a bed in the middle of the park would be extremely odd. I'll just have to do with this bench, in all its stiffness.

There's no way I'd go home anytime soon. Not if I can help it at least.

It’s a good thing Alex doesn't pass through this park. Well, he never used to. He was busy with his band, especially once they got that record deal. When he had free time from that, he was at the bar. Either getting drunk or hooking up with random girls. That was Alex and I hated it.

I love this park though. Not because it keeps me safe from my families searching eyes but because it's always been my favorite place to sit and think. Or become a potential lawsuit for the creators of the jungle gym.

That jungle gym has never been in good condition really. It’s a wonder they keep it set up.

It seems this park has become a hang out for teenagers. There are no little kids running around, at least not right now.

Maybe their parents are wary of the jungle gym.

As it is, I enjoy watching the teenagers converse. The group here now is just a few girls, talking animatedly about who knows what. They're regulars here. Normally, they play a hearty game of tag around the breaking-down jungle gym until they can no longer breathe and are falling to the ground from overexertion of energy. Then they lay in a circle and talk. Most of it is celebrity gossip but they find fascination in it.

Today, they're not running around "tagging" each other. They're just talking.

One takes off her jacket, revealing a white shirt with a pink dinosaur eating a doughnut. There are words on it; I just can't make them out. She shows her shirt to her friends, they squeal in approval. They continue talking and I keep watching.

By chance, one glances at me. Her eyes widen and she reaches into her back pocket.

Maybe she'll pull out a revolver and put me out of the misery Alex has just instated.

She pulls out a folded paper instead, killing all my hopes. Her friends question her actions; she ignores them. She unfolds the paper, stares intently at it, and looks at me. Her eyes are even wider now, though I'm not sure that's possible.

I wonder what's on that paper.

Her friend's continue to ask questions. This time she answers, whispering something to them. They look at each other, wary of their friends antics. They nod their heads, accepting a question she must have asked in return. They walk in my direction and stop in front of my bench.

"Can I help you?" I ask.

I can read the girls shirt now. It says "All Time Low". I think that's Alex's band.

"We wanted to ask you something," the one holding the paper says.

Actually, I'm positive that's Alex's band.

"Go ahead."

She must be a fan of Alex's band.

"What's you're name?"

She must have watched their interview.

"Why?" I answer with a question.

I need to bide some time to think of a plan.

"You just seem really familiar."

Nice try.

"I can assure you, we haven't met," I insist.

Leave me alone.

"Are you sure? Just tell me your name. I swear I've seen you before."

"My name's Fall," I answer.

She looks crestfallen.

"Oh, sorry for taking your time," she and her friends walk away.

I lied to them about my name, so what?

I’m not getting caught.