I Can Be Your Hero
Chapter One-Collisions
The snow was falling softly in Chicago as I walked along the city streets, my curly blonde hair hidden beneath a grey knit cap, my hands tucked into the pockets of my black pea coat, and my head bent to protect my watering blue eyes from the wind. It was a little after 3 AM, and as I stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk I sighed heavily. Of course, being who I was, I couldn’t get a cab, and we were all too drunk to drive after coming off of a huge win against the Canucks, so I was forced to walk home in the blistering cold. I could see my apartment building in the distance, but it was still a long walk, especially in the cold. I heard a scuffling, and suddenly a girl stumbled out from the alley to my right, tears streaming down her face as she slammed into me.
“Sorry!” she squeaked, and I stared at her in amazement. I had never seen a woman so beautiful in my entire life. She was short, no taller than 5 foot 3, with long, loosely curled red hair. Her tear glazed eyes were a bright shade of green, and her face was round and lightly freckled. On any other occasion I would have been floored and immediately asked for her number, but she ran across the street without even looking and I stared after her, dumbfounded. Just then, the wind blew and I shivered. I need to get the fuck inside, I thought, and just like that I continued on my way down the street, forgetting all about the red head.
A few days later I slumped into a seat at a small diner a few blocks away from my apartment. The diner was tucked away on the corner of a small street, and I was almost never pestered for autographs when I went. The owner waved as I slipped into my usual seat, and I waved back halfheartedly before looking up at the waitress who had just walked over.
“Hi. I’m Elizabeth and I’ll be your server today. Can I start you off with something to drink?” she asked, and I felt my jaw drop. It was the woman I had run into a few nights ago.
“Uh…coffee please,” I said, and she repeated the order before walking away to go get my drink. When she came back she placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of me and then looked at me curiously.
“Have we met?” she asked, and I furrowed my brow.
“I uh…I think we may have run into each other, but I don’t believe I ever spoke to you,” I admitted.
“Oh…well uh…do you know what you want to eat?” she asked quickly, her face flushing in embarrassment. She looked just as confused as I was.
“Yeah…I’ll take three eggs, scrambled, with sausage, pancakes, and some orange juice,” I said, running a hand through my hair. She disappeared once again, and I shrugged. Weird I thought.
Eventually I forgot about Elizabeth once more, but she quickly found her way into my mind once more while I was at the grocery store. I had just grabbed some peppers and threw them into my basket when someone walked into me.
“Sorry!” a familiar voice said, and I turned to see Elizabeth standing there, a grocery basket in her hands.
“We really need to stop meeting like this,” I said, flashing her a winning smile. She chuckled and nodded before grabbing a few peppers for herself.
“Yes we do. I’m Elizabeth, but I told you that already…I never did catch your name,” she said, turning towards me once more. I was a bit startled that someone living in Chicago didn’t know my name, but then again I had a bit of an ego.
“I’m Patrick. It’s nice to meet you,” I said, holding out my hand. She shook it, her hands surprisingly rough, and smiled again.
“Nice to meet you too,” she said. We somehow ended up walking through the store together, chatting casually. Eventually I decided to just go for it, and I stopped her right before we headed to the checkout line.
“Can I have your number?” I asked, and her face turned pink.
“I uh…I...sure,” she said, and I handed her my phone.
Elizabeth’s Point of View
It was a terrible idea, giving Patrick my number, but I couldn’t resist the charming smiles or his huge blue eyes. I knew that if Damien ever checked my phone bill I was dead, but something about giving Patrick my number made me feel a little daring too. He grinned broadly as he tucked his phone into his pocket, and after assuring me that he would call, he paid and left the store. I paid for my groceries as well before heading back towards my apartment, which was a few blocks away from the University of Chicago, where I had studied for 5 years. I hadn’t planned on staying in Chicago after graduating, but I had found a great job…and I had met Damien.
“Where the hell were you?” Damien barked as soon as I opened the door.
“The grocery store…we were running low on some things,” I said meekly, holding up the grocery bags. Damien nodded before pulling open the fridge and grabbing a beer. I swallowed roughly and bit my lip before edging carefully around him and beginning to put the groceries away. It was never a good sign for him to be drinking in the afternoon, and as I quickly counted the beers in the fridge I realized that it wasn’t his first of the day. I eventually started to make something for us to eat, since Damien was complaining about being hungry, even though it was only 4 o’clock. Damien was drunk, and that made me nervous. I turned to clean the lettuce, and my elbow sent a bowl crashing to the ground. The glass flew everywhere, and I bit back a cry.
“You stupid bitch!” Damien roared from the sitting room before jumping up and storming to the kitchen. I flattened myself against the edge of the counter, trapped in the little kitchen, and prayed that he would calm down in a few seconds. However, he grabbed me by my hair and I whimpered. A well directed fist was all it took to silence me, and I slumped to the ground, clutching my left eye, before Damien returned to watching TV. Trembling, I opened the cabinet beneath the sink and pulled out the dust pan and dust brush, setting to clean up the broken glass before I finished dinner.
“Sorry!” she squeaked, and I stared at her in amazement. I had never seen a woman so beautiful in my entire life. She was short, no taller than 5 foot 3, with long, loosely curled red hair. Her tear glazed eyes were a bright shade of green, and her face was round and lightly freckled. On any other occasion I would have been floored and immediately asked for her number, but she ran across the street without even looking and I stared after her, dumbfounded. Just then, the wind blew and I shivered. I need to get the fuck inside, I thought, and just like that I continued on my way down the street, forgetting all about the red head.
A few days later I slumped into a seat at a small diner a few blocks away from my apartment. The diner was tucked away on the corner of a small street, and I was almost never pestered for autographs when I went. The owner waved as I slipped into my usual seat, and I waved back halfheartedly before looking up at the waitress who had just walked over.
“Hi. I’m Elizabeth and I’ll be your server today. Can I start you off with something to drink?” she asked, and I felt my jaw drop. It was the woman I had run into a few nights ago.
“Uh…coffee please,” I said, and she repeated the order before walking away to go get my drink. When she came back she placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of me and then looked at me curiously.
“Have we met?” she asked, and I furrowed my brow.
“I uh…I think we may have run into each other, but I don’t believe I ever spoke to you,” I admitted.
“Oh…well uh…do you know what you want to eat?” she asked quickly, her face flushing in embarrassment. She looked just as confused as I was.
“Yeah…I’ll take three eggs, scrambled, with sausage, pancakes, and some orange juice,” I said, running a hand through my hair. She disappeared once again, and I shrugged. Weird I thought.
Eventually I forgot about Elizabeth once more, but she quickly found her way into my mind once more while I was at the grocery store. I had just grabbed some peppers and threw them into my basket when someone walked into me.
“Sorry!” a familiar voice said, and I turned to see Elizabeth standing there, a grocery basket in her hands.
“We really need to stop meeting like this,” I said, flashing her a winning smile. She chuckled and nodded before grabbing a few peppers for herself.
“Yes we do. I’m Elizabeth, but I told you that already…I never did catch your name,” she said, turning towards me once more. I was a bit startled that someone living in Chicago didn’t know my name, but then again I had a bit of an ego.
“I’m Patrick. It’s nice to meet you,” I said, holding out my hand. She shook it, her hands surprisingly rough, and smiled again.
“Nice to meet you too,” she said. We somehow ended up walking through the store together, chatting casually. Eventually I decided to just go for it, and I stopped her right before we headed to the checkout line.
“Can I have your number?” I asked, and her face turned pink.
“I uh…I...sure,” she said, and I handed her my phone.
Elizabeth’s Point of View
It was a terrible idea, giving Patrick my number, but I couldn’t resist the charming smiles or his huge blue eyes. I knew that if Damien ever checked my phone bill I was dead, but something about giving Patrick my number made me feel a little daring too. He grinned broadly as he tucked his phone into his pocket, and after assuring me that he would call, he paid and left the store. I paid for my groceries as well before heading back towards my apartment, which was a few blocks away from the University of Chicago, where I had studied for 5 years. I hadn’t planned on staying in Chicago after graduating, but I had found a great job…and I had met Damien.
“Where the hell were you?” Damien barked as soon as I opened the door.
“The grocery store…we were running low on some things,” I said meekly, holding up the grocery bags. Damien nodded before pulling open the fridge and grabbing a beer. I swallowed roughly and bit my lip before edging carefully around him and beginning to put the groceries away. It was never a good sign for him to be drinking in the afternoon, and as I quickly counted the beers in the fridge I realized that it wasn’t his first of the day. I eventually started to make something for us to eat, since Damien was complaining about being hungry, even though it was only 4 o’clock. Damien was drunk, and that made me nervous. I turned to clean the lettuce, and my elbow sent a bowl crashing to the ground. The glass flew everywhere, and I bit back a cry.
“You stupid bitch!” Damien roared from the sitting room before jumping up and storming to the kitchen. I flattened myself against the edge of the counter, trapped in the little kitchen, and prayed that he would calm down in a few seconds. However, he grabbed me by my hair and I whimpered. A well directed fist was all it took to silence me, and I slumped to the ground, clutching my left eye, before Damien returned to watching TV. Trembling, I opened the cabinet beneath the sink and pulled out the dust pan and dust brush, setting to clean up the broken glass before I finished dinner.
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A new story :)