American Eulogy

The first time Whatsername saw him wasn't love at first sight. It was more like friendship at first sight. Everyone else on the bus was avoiding him. Whatsername didn't blame them, the boy had 'sketchy' written across his forehead. If one were to look at him a little longer, though, they would see that there was nothing threatening about him. Whatsername saw that. He wasn't a bad person, he was just broken. Broken, just like she was. Whatsername decided to sit by the boy. Without looking up, the boy said a quiet 'hello.' Whatsername put her hand on the boy's knee. "You look lonely." The boy laughed and peeked up at Whatsername. He had cold, gray eyes filled to the brim with pain. When they fell upon Whatsername's electric green eyes, a little bit of that pain drained away. "Not lonely, more like lost." Whatsername had expected the boy to have a deep, gravely voice. In reality, the boy had a high, clear voice. With his dark, spikey hair and the tattoos that danced along his arms, he looked quite menacing. His voice softened his appearance a bit. Whatsername looked at the boy with curiosity. "What's your name?" The boy laughed again. His laugh was as clear as his voice, it was the kind of laugh that could infect anyone in range of hearing. "I don't really have a name, but I call myself the Jesus of Suburbia." Now it was the girl's turn to laugh. Whatsername had not laughed in four months, and the return of the sound startled her a bit. "That's kind of long don't you think?" The Jesus of Suburbia was starting to like this random stranger. She had fire in her, and he had a soft spot for fire. "You can call me Jesus for short, if you'd like." Laughter came again, and the sounds of joy were beginning to annoy the other passengers on the bus. Whatsername playfully shoved the boy. "Jesus? That's a little coincided, don't you think? How about I call you Suburbs?" The bus slowed to a halt. Whatsername looked, and her heart sank. This was her stop, but she didn't want to leave her new friend. Suburbs noticed the worried look in her eyes. "This is your stop, isn't it?" His tone revealed that he shared the same amount of disappointment as Whatsername. "I mean yeah, but I'm just going to some lame hotel." Suburbs looked into Whatsername's eyes, leaned in, and kissed her. They had a connection, he was sure of that. Leaning back, Suburbs realized he didn't even know the girl's name. When he asked, a strained look took over her face, like the question brought back old demons. "I... I don't have one. Most folks just call me Whatsername." Suburbs smirked. "Well then, Whatsername, care to join me for a few drinks?" Whatsername gave him a quizzical look. "I'm only 13...." She hoped the boy didn't turn out to be some 20-year-old pedophile. "Yeah, and I'm 14. Wanna go grab some milkshakes? I know this place downtown called the Underbelly, the manager lets me eat for free sometimes." "Alright, I'll go with you. But only if you promise me something." Suburbs took her hand in his. "What would that be?" Whatsername changed her tone from playful to serious. "You have to promise to be my best friend in this place, and that you'll take on this city with me." Suburbs replied with as much sincerity he could muster. "I promise. Let's go."