Downpour

I think the funny part of being a teen is everyone always thinking your exactly the same. Maybe we all are. Though a large part of me would call bullshit and shut that cliché box. Throw it far from my life, and never reopen it. Then again....what teen describes their peers as a box. My point proven.

I open my eyes and look up into the sky, humming a song I don't remember. You know that state of tired where you can't hardly think straight let alone think like your brain is of the human sort? I was suffering from that right now. My dad was raging last night and I had stayed up late waiting. Not sure why I keep waiting.

Its raining. I realize this only as the drops catch my eyelashes and begin to blind me and a few drops escape down my baggy flannel. I feel like humming is to disturbing to the busy street in front of me, so I stop and sit with my ankles crossed on the sidewalk.

This is what I do with my time. Sit on sidewalks next to busy streets. Sometimes I bring sketch pads and draw the people that pass by. I find it interesting how all their lives are different. Yet everyone would probably categorize them as the same. Some people start to step over my feet, each giving me their own unique scowl or glare. I just wink or smirk. It was going smoothly, for me.

That lasted until a pretty boy tripped and his obvious "perfect boy" status shattered in front of my eyes. "FUCKIN' SHIT, MAN!" at least he had a vocabulary I could relate to. "Aw, I'm sorry, love! Did you happen to fuck up your pretty little face?" I said in a sing song voice that might as well had made a pool around us from all the sarcasm it dripped.

He looked at me with a sort of shock that I had expected. Then a quite proud and then almost dopey face appeared and while outside I rolled my eyes and scowled, inside my stomach held disgustingly nervous butterflies and the Oregon rain was not so cool anymore.

"It's raining." He said with a dopey grin.

"Oh shit man! So THATS why my clothes are soaked and the streets are shinier then usual! It's all so clear! Thanks, pretty boy!" I slapped my knee and gave him a fake sincere expression.

He chuckled. It sounded nice, I admitted to myself. "So how 'bout I buy your gorgeous self a coffee and you use some more of that charming sarcasm in an actual conversation with me?" He smiled warmly, but the wink he gave after it completely shattered the whole thing.

"I don't drink coffee." Did I have to literally take him by his collar and push him into the middle of the street for him to get it. He looked discouraged, but then perked up.

"What do you drink?" He asked looking hopeful. "Vodka mixed with cat piss and cranberry sauce." I muttered. "What?" He asked. "Tea. I drink tea."

~~~
I ended up walking with him to some quaint little coffee shop that was settled in next to a toy store. He was too pretty to ever stop smiling, I guess. "So I didn't catch your name..." He was trying to make conversation. Hell.

"Well I wouldn't imagine you would have, seeing as I never threw it." He chuckled. He needs to never do that. I don't like the feeling I keep getting. We ordered our drinks, mine a random type of tea I chose, his a caramel fancy boy drink. After that we sat at a table in the corner. He went to sit at the chair right next to mine, but I "accidentally" bummed the table with my knee and the thing of sugar spilt on the chair. The barista in training came over with a rag so he just sat across from me.

After about three minutes of him just staring at me I gave in. "My names Jess." I was rewarded a big smile and a name in return. "Mines Hollis Fitch." Pretty boy name for a pretty boy, it made me snort. He gave me a questioning look.

"Of course you have a name like that." His eyebrows came together and the corners of his eyes crinkled in the most adorable way. Wait....what. Fuck me.

"What do you mean?" I rolled my eyes impatiently. "You are perfect. You tripped like a dumbass and still looked impeccable. Those strangely emerald eyes, perfect golden hair and skin as if you've never been subjected to the polluted earth air? Definition of perfect. Your name just finishes it all." I said and the lady gave us our drinks. My language was obviously a touchy matter because she gave me a disgusted look. I sipped at my drink as he thought of his next reply.

"I'm not though. I'm failing two classes, burn waffles every time I try to make them, and if I was perfect I would find Barbie beautiful." He said with a sobered expression. "And yet the only thing I am finding beautiful right now is you." Well that escalated quickly. I peered to my left at the reflective glass window of the coffee shop. My curly mess of black hair that ended near my collar bones clashed with my pale skin and blue eyes. I was too skinny, no curves. The only shape I held was that of a slightly starving child. I wore no makeup. I never do.

"Are you done critiquing your every feature?" I met his eyes again. "Good. Now can I ask you to tell me about yourself, gorgeous?" Blush. Fuck me. I looked down at my tea and thought of how I would describe myself.

"Sure. My names Jess Gales. My father's a single dad, struggling alcoholic and workaholic. He forgot I live upstairs because he's never home. I dropped out of high school. I spend my days sitting on sidewalks until charming pretty boys trip over my feet and almost break their noses." The last part was said with a sarcastic smile. He didn't answer, but his eyes crinkled again. I sipped at my tea until the silence was too unbearable, even for me who lives wrapped up in silence.

"What about you." He cleared his throat and shook his head a bit to clear it. "I have a sister who's a dork, I love strawberry milk, I am a senior who has little to no hope, I have a job at a music store and the owner said he wants to hand it down to me when he retires in five months. That's actually where I was headed when I ran into you." his smile was happy. No regrets hiding in it. Weird, I am quite a regretful character to meet.

"That's cool, pretty boy. What music do you like?" Let's see Nikki Minaj is practically my idol! I could just hear him saying now.

"All of it." His expression was void of any unsurness. It was steady and truthful. "So you like rock, rap, pop, indie, country?" I asked squinting a bit out of confusion. Most people prefer a certain genre.

"All of it. It's all creative, and that's what I like." He said with a dopey grin. I sat back in my chair and nodded. I heard three beeps in a row coming from his pocket. Sliding it carelessly out of the back pocket of his jeans he pressed a button and answered. "Jare." He spoke just the name. "Yeah. I know. It's just- oh shut the fuck up, I'll get there! Of course there was a reason!" His eyes met mine and both his eyes and voice warmed up. "A very good reason." Blush. Fuck me. I drank my last sip of tea and stood up. I gave him a parting smirk then walked out the door of the coffee shop. The smell of sickening coffee was getting to me, as was the pretty boy who was charming as hell. I kept walking down the street. Maybe he will just go to work and forget about me.

Damn it was cold. Damn I was tired. Keep walking, Jess. As I turned the third street corner it started raining harder. I didn't have a hood. Or a coat. I just let it wash over me. Shivering slowed me down, sadly. I heard running behind me, and a coat was wrapped around me. The scent of some indescribable cologne enveloped me. Then the giver of the jacket sprinted up the street and around a corner.

.....Okay. That was weird. But it was warm and it smelled so good. Plus I had a long walk back home. I pulled on the navy blue sweatshirt and zipped it all the way up. I pulled the hood up then stuffed my hands in the pockets. There was a crunch against my knuckles. Raising my eyebrows I took out a slightly damp piece of paper. "Will you go out to dinner with me Saturday night? Mcmenamins, at seven? Hope to see you there, beautiful. -Hollis" Romantic little bastard. He's paying.