You Had Me at "I Hate You"
03
After two weeks back home, I began to realize why I'd left in the first place. My old room had long since become the "Craft Corner" - wherein my mother had dumped obscene amounts of glitter and felt and then promptly abandoned. I slept on the couch; a guest in my own house.
I couldn't deny that there were definite perks... No strange insects lurked in the corners of the rooms, people didn't steal your favorite Garfield and Odie welcome mat or carve crude pictures into your door. Not to mention the fact that my mother was currently obsessed with designer shampoos and body washes. I was currently sitting outside a hip little coffee shop downtown near the local college, smelling like a ripe kiwi.
I sighed and breathed on the tips of my fingers through my thin gloves. My mocha had long since gone cold, as I was savoring it to pass the time.
I spotted a tall, skinny boy near the bulletin boards where all the students posted notices, lost pet or book signs, and advertisements for local businesses. I observed him casually, trying not to laugh at him as he hopped about on the spot, his thin Superman sweatshirt hardly protecting him from the cold.
He had a bundle of lime green fliers in his spindly hands. He was holding on to them tightly, protecting them from the harsh wind that turned his nose bright pink. The second me let go of one hand to post one on the bulletin board, a strong gust of air rushed past. Leaves were disturbed from the ground and tripped down the street. The boy's scarf was ripped from his neck and all his fliers were snatched from his hands.
"Shit!" he cried, reaching up over his head in a futile attempt to gather the swirling papers.
His scarf fluttered over towards me, ending up smacking me in the face. I was blinded, coughing at the sudden smell of cologne and turpentine that it brought about. I stood up, removing his scarf from my eyes, and causing my cold coffee to splash to the floor.
He appeared, as if out of nowhere, by my side, apologizing profusely.
"Oh no! I'm sorry - uh, here - let me get you another coffee..."
I laughed, and assured him that I was okay.
"No, honestly! I'll get you another!" he waved his hand to the busboy and ordered me another mocha.
"I'm Jesse," the boy said, sticking out a hand. "Jesse King."
I took it. "Violet DiMarco."
He grinned and shoved the two fliers that he'd managed to catch into the back pocket of his dark jeans. It was then that I realized I was still holding his scarf, embarrassed, I flushed as red as my hair.
"Uh... here," I mumbled, handing it to him.
"Oh! Thanks," he replied, and promptly slung it around his neck again.
"Sorry about your fliers," I said, gesturing to the random lime green papers that were now scattered all over the surrounding area.
"S'okay," he shrugged. "School's already started. It's not like we're going to find anyone anyways."
"Find anyone?" I questioned.
"Yeah," he breathed into his cupped hands to warm them. "Me and a buddy are looking for a roommate. Our old one, my brother, went off to live with his girlfriend, and we're having a hard time scraping up the rent. It used to be so easy to - Excuse me? Are you okay?"
I couldn't quite imagine what I looked like just then - probably a mix of panicked glee and that wild-eyed "woman on the edge" demeanor.
"I just got evicted!" I positively screamed in excitement.
"And this makes you happy?"
"No!" I giggled, still smiling like an idiot.
He caught on. "Oh! Hey, do you need a place to crash?"
"Yes!"
He flashed me a toothy smirk. "Then you've got yourself a place to crash!"
I threw my hands in the air, accidentally smacking the busboy in the face. I stood and slung my arms around him.
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
"Wow, you must be pretty desperate for a room," he commented, casting an apologetic look at the waiter, who was rubbing his sore nose.
"More like desperate to get away from my mom," I told him, still grinning like mad.
I couldn't deny that there were definite perks... No strange insects lurked in the corners of the rooms, people didn't steal your favorite Garfield and Odie welcome mat or carve crude pictures into your door. Not to mention the fact that my mother was currently obsessed with designer shampoos and body washes. I was currently sitting outside a hip little coffee shop downtown near the local college, smelling like a ripe kiwi.
I sighed and breathed on the tips of my fingers through my thin gloves. My mocha had long since gone cold, as I was savoring it to pass the time.
I spotted a tall, skinny boy near the bulletin boards where all the students posted notices, lost pet or book signs, and advertisements for local businesses. I observed him casually, trying not to laugh at him as he hopped about on the spot, his thin Superman sweatshirt hardly protecting him from the cold.
He had a bundle of lime green fliers in his spindly hands. He was holding on to them tightly, protecting them from the harsh wind that turned his nose bright pink. The second me let go of one hand to post one on the bulletin board, a strong gust of air rushed past. Leaves were disturbed from the ground and tripped down the street. The boy's scarf was ripped from his neck and all his fliers were snatched from his hands.
"Shit!" he cried, reaching up over his head in a futile attempt to gather the swirling papers.
His scarf fluttered over towards me, ending up smacking me in the face. I was blinded, coughing at the sudden smell of cologne and turpentine that it brought about. I stood up, removing his scarf from my eyes, and causing my cold coffee to splash to the floor.
He appeared, as if out of nowhere, by my side, apologizing profusely.
"Oh no! I'm sorry - uh, here - let me get you another coffee..."
I laughed, and assured him that I was okay.
"No, honestly! I'll get you another!" he waved his hand to the busboy and ordered me another mocha.
"I'm Jesse," the boy said, sticking out a hand. "Jesse King."
I took it. "Violet DiMarco."
He grinned and shoved the two fliers that he'd managed to catch into the back pocket of his dark jeans. It was then that I realized I was still holding his scarf, embarrassed, I flushed as red as my hair.
"Uh... here," I mumbled, handing it to him.
"Oh! Thanks," he replied, and promptly slung it around his neck again.
"Sorry about your fliers," I said, gesturing to the random lime green papers that were now scattered all over the surrounding area.
"S'okay," he shrugged. "School's already started. It's not like we're going to find anyone anyways."
"Find anyone?" I questioned.
"Yeah," he breathed into his cupped hands to warm them. "Me and a buddy are looking for a roommate. Our old one, my brother, went off to live with his girlfriend, and we're having a hard time scraping up the rent. It used to be so easy to - Excuse me? Are you okay?"
I couldn't quite imagine what I looked like just then - probably a mix of panicked glee and that wild-eyed "woman on the edge" demeanor.
"I just got evicted!" I positively screamed in excitement.
"And this makes you happy?"
"No!" I giggled, still smiling like an idiot.
He caught on. "Oh! Hey, do you need a place to crash?"
"Yes!"
He flashed me a toothy smirk. "Then you've got yourself a place to crash!"
I threw my hands in the air, accidentally smacking the busboy in the face. I stood and slung my arms around him.
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
"Wow, you must be pretty desperate for a room," he commented, casting an apologetic look at the waiter, who was rubbing his sore nose.
"More like desperate to get away from my mom," I told him, still grinning like mad.