Your Hand In Mine

- Shane -

"It's her hands on my hips, I can't escape 'em. It's that mouth and those lips, try not to taste 'em. That's just the way things are. And the way they'll always be. Girls do what they want. Whoa whoa. Boys do what they can. Girls do what they want. Whoa whoa. Boys do what they ca-" Well, thanks for ripping my headphones out.

"Are you even listening to me, Shane?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. Continue," I answered with a smile as I sat down next to her. Honestly, I'd rather be jamming to The Maine and jumping on my bed, but I guess I could suck it up and listen to Alexa babble on about nothing.

"Yeah, sure you were. But anyway, I have to get going because Ryan's coming over later. Eight o'clock to be exact. And we're going to dinner, so I have to leave within the next thirty seconds if I want to be ready on time. I'll call you later and tell you how it went, if you want," she said as she made her way over to the door. "See ya, love ya, bye, Shane!" she finished as she opened the door.

"Back at ya, Lex. Call me later, alright?"

"I will," she called back as she left.

She never fails to amaze me. It was a little after two in the afternoon, and she had to leave right then and there to start getting ready for her date with Ryan. Well, I don't really consider it a 'date' anymore. They've been together since senior year, which was about three years ago. I feel bad for that poor bastard since he has to put up with her more than I do. I tell him that all the time, and he says he doesn't think she's that bad. But who's he kidding, he's completely head over heels for Lexa. She feels exactly the same way about him, though. They'd do anything for each other, and I guess that's why they're perfect together.

My love life on the other hand, it's pretty much non-existent. I mean, I go on dates here and there--most of them are set up by coworkers or Lexa--but they just never really turn out well. The guy is either a complete dick and so full of himself, or he's so shy that the whole date turns out awkward. Some dates give me good stories to talk about the next day, though. This one time a guy named Nate ordered soup and he went to grab it from the waiter, but I guess it slipped through his hands, and the soup went all over my jeans. He told me he was extremely sorry and that he felt like shit. Then he went to hand me a napkin and knocked over both of our drinks onto my shirt and pants. I just sat there and laughed in the guy's face and told him that it wasn't a big deal and that I just have horrible luck. Then he looked across the restaurant and waved to some girl that he knew and got up and left me there. Then he started to have dinner with her. I was sort of shocked, but kind of happy the date was over.

As soon as Alexa shut the door, I started flipping through the channels until I came to Versus. The Cryers and the Rangers were playing. Go Rangers.

Seeing as I was from Pittsburgh, I was born hating everything associated with Philly. It's just how people from Pittsburgh were, and I'm damn proud to say I'm one of them. Actually, I hate the Crapitals and Alex Ovechkin with a burning passion even more than the Cryers. But that's another story for another day.

Wondering how a girl my age got into hockey? 'You see, my dad worshiped hockey. My mom didn't. That's why she moved to Egypt where there's not a hockey rink within fifteen hundred miles.' Kidding.

Most people in this city love the Steelers, but my dad got me and my brother, Josh, into hockey. He decided to go out and play hockey, while I opted to play soccer. I can barely walk in bare feet on a flat surface with no cracks. So me, ice and sharp skates don't mix very well. You may think I don't know what I'm talking about when it comes to hockey, but I know my shit.

The Rangers killed Philly with a final score of seven to three. And someone beat the living daylight out of Scotty Hartnell, it was great.

When the game was over, I got my lazy ass off of the couch and looked for some food. I made myself a bowl of Captain Crunch. I'm not exactly skilled when it comes to cooking, but I manage.

I did some laundry and cleaned my room a little, then decided to go for a walk. I threw on some jeans, a hoodie and a pair of shoes. Then I grabbed my iPod, phone and keys, leaving my apartment.

I started walking and noticed that the sun was starting to set--my favorite times of the day. I smiled and shoved my headphones in my ears. Beautiful World by Carolina Liar started playing, and I sang along, earning weird looks from the people around me. I could care less, though. Just because my singing voice is so much better than everyone else's doesn't mean they can just throw dirty looks my way.

About a minute later, I made it to the park and sat down on a swing and started pumping my legs and gliding through the air. I had always loved the swings. Swinging seemed to let me be a little kid again and forget all of my problems for a while. My legs started to get a little tired, so I slowed down and just sat there, my eyes closed as I hummed along with whatever song was playing.

"What are you listening to?" asked a voice from my right.

I jumped a bit and fell off the swing into the mulch. "Oh my God," I kind of laughed. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"Not long, about five minute or so," he said as I grabbed his out-stretched hand, pulling myself up. "Sorry about scaring you." This guy looks a bit familiar, and I definitely know his voice from somewhere.

"Oh, it's alright. I fall all the time, so don't worry about it. I'm Shane, by the way. And I was listening to Your Hand in Mine by Explosions in the Sky," I replied as I stuck out my hand for him to shake. Weird. I mean the whole 'hand' thing.

He took my hand and shook it. "I 'ave never 'eard of them before. Mind if I listen? And I'm Kris." Then it clicked. The guy standing in front of me was Kristopher Letang.