It's What Makes Me, Me

My black hair was drying in its natural curls, my grandmother was one of those people that judged on first glances, and I had to be sure she didn't see my project partner. I applied a thin line of eyeliner and mascara so not to look too pale or too over the top. For the first time I felt like caring about the reaction he would get of me.
I had left the penthouse and went to wait outside; it was darker at seven than I thought it would be. The cool breeze whipped around my body as leaves floated through the air, why wasn't he here yet? My watch with its large face and black leather strap continued ticking as seconds and minutes passed. Just as I was giving up, a beat up black car came screeching round the corner. I walked to the passenger sized door, trying to open it casually, I failed the door had been locked. Hidden from view by the tinted windows, I could just make out a giggling silhouette. Once unlocked, I slid into the well worn seat. I politely stated 'I don't even know your name', 'Charlie, and you?' he mumbled, 'Lexii'. That was the entire conversation we had.
I sat the rest of the way silent, bobbing slightly to the music blasting from his player. Then a tune I recognized filled my ears, My Chemical Romance, I loved this song it said so much. Joining in with Gerard’s soft voice 'I'm not okay' gained me some weird looks from Charlie; we carried on driving as I continued to sing to the songs blaring. Twenty minutes later we pulled to a stop outside a large expertly crafted house. Carefully, as so to look lady like I opened the door and exited. Unfortunately my foot caught the edge of the door sending me tumbling to the ground laced with puddles. Landing in the largest puddle near me I soaked right through my hoodie, jeans, top and shoes. What now?
Getting to my feet I heard giggling behind me, Charlie stood there clutching his sides as he tried to stop the laughter from leaving his lips. Hurrying, I followed him inside unable to admire the architecture of the stunning house I was entering. Grabbing my hand he pulled me towards his room without making a sound, worry overcame my usually calm mind. A few steps behind him I entered his room. The wooden floor squeaked under my wet converse, a large bed lay in the corner covered by a black and red quilt, drawings and clothes were everywhere. Rummaging through the piles, he found what he was searching for a large MCR hoodie. Thrusting it my direction was the queue to get out of my wet clothes, I pushed him out the door so I could change in private. After slipping out of my wet clothes, luckily my underwear had remained dry; I snuggled up in Charlie’s hoodie.
He re-entered his room to find me perched on the end of his bed, long legs swinging back and forth, 'lets get started' he said.