Our Perfect Love Story
Something Like A Sunset, Oh, She's A Shooting Star
And as it turned out, his surprise was just a open-all-night diner on the edge of town. We got out of his old truck, and went inside. A waitress seated us in a booth. We sat and I pressed my arms against the sticky table. We sat across from each other, Noel started asking me random questions.
“How old are you? I’m nineteen.”
“I just turned eighteen.” He nodded.
“What do you want to do next year?”
“I want to go to college and major in Journalism.”
“Big plans. What’s your favorite color?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well… what’s your two favorite colors?”
“Blue and gray. You?”
“Orange and green. What is your favorite genre of music?”
“Probably grunge or pop.”
“What’s grunge?”
“You know, like Pearl Jam or Five Finger Death Punch. Not scream-o but not mainstream.”
“Hmph. I never would have pictured that.”
“Never judge a book.” I shrugged. I looked down at the menu.
“I’m really glad I met you tonight, Cara.” I looked up, my bangs falling in my eyes.
“I’m glad I met you to Noel.” I smiled at him, as a waitress walked to our table. She took our order and when she left it was quiet.
“What? No more interrogation?” I smiled at him, and folded my hands on the table. His were in his lap.
“Oh, so it wasn’t bothering you?”
“No. It was kind of nice, knowing someone was actually interested in getting to know me.”
“I’m happy I could help, and don’t worry, I’m not done just yet.”
He didn’t question me anymore, which led me to believe we would be hanging out again. And as I ate my late night meal, I thought about how nice I felt since I had met him. How much I smiled, and the fluttering in my chest never went away since the bonfire. As he paid the bill and we left, a sad thought flooded me. I was only going to be here for a month.
We only had a month.
No regrets, I told myself. Who cares if it lasts a night, and I never see him again?
“How old are you? I’m nineteen.”
“I just turned eighteen.” He nodded.
“What do you want to do next year?”
“I want to go to college and major in Journalism.”
“Big plans. What’s your favorite color?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well… what’s your two favorite colors?”
“Blue and gray. You?”
“Orange and green. What is your favorite genre of music?”
“Probably grunge or pop.”
“What’s grunge?”
“You know, like Pearl Jam or Five Finger Death Punch. Not scream-o but not mainstream.”
“Hmph. I never would have pictured that.”
“Never judge a book.” I shrugged. I looked down at the menu.
“I’m really glad I met you tonight, Cara.” I looked up, my bangs falling in my eyes.
“I’m glad I met you to Noel.” I smiled at him, as a waitress walked to our table. She took our order and when she left it was quiet.
“What? No more interrogation?” I smiled at him, and folded my hands on the table. His were in his lap.
“Oh, so it wasn’t bothering you?”
“No. It was kind of nice, knowing someone was actually interested in getting to know me.”
“I’m happy I could help, and don’t worry, I’m not done just yet.”
He didn’t question me anymore, which led me to believe we would be hanging out again. And as I ate my late night meal, I thought about how nice I felt since I had met him. How much I smiled, and the fluttering in my chest never went away since the bonfire. As he paid the bill and we left, a sad thought flooded me. I was only going to be here for a month.
We only had a month.
No regrets, I told myself. Who cares if it lasts a night, and I never see him again?
♠ ♠ ♠
Just a filler, really.