You would’ve thought that maybe this time I wouldn’t just barge out of the house. However, once I finished tripping up the basement stairs and leaning against the door feeling sorry for myself, I regained my composure. So…maybe I didn’t just barge out…I changed my clothes first, made sure I smelled alright, picked up my phone, then I barged out, remembering to slam the door behind me for dramatic effect. I didn’t know where I was going, it had just turned 1pm and I didn’t want to repeat last night. I already did alcohol last night and I think going now would be redundant, what I really need is cool air and something that doesn’t piss me off.
I pulled my phone out of my cargo pants, hoping that maybe someone has texted me, I had three unread messages all from the same number.
-Hey it’s Miles :)
-So…does your head hurt at all?
-Well when you see this text me back… :)
I saved his number and I immediately texted him back, relieved that maybe now I have a distraction. -HI! thank god you texted me, I just stormed off again, I need something to do that’s not alcohol. I sent and almost regretted it…I sounded like some desperate bitch using someone as her back up plan, no self-respecting person would reply to that. I put my phone back in my pocket and shoved my thumbs behind the hemline of my pants, ducked my head and walked faster. After a couple minutes my phone buzzed, another deep breath and I checked it.
-Diva…uhm bar is not a good idea do you like coffee?
-I love coffee, I replied.
-Three cheers for sobriety! know the café across from that bookstore Good reads? Meet there?
-Coming right now :), I asserted, and headed that way.
……………
Miles was there waiting for me in a booth, absentmindedly abusing his poor napkin. I slid in across from him, causing him to jump and look up at me wide-eyed.
“Miles! What did the napkin do to you?!” He shoved his hands in his lap like a shy little girl and looked up from the pile of shredded napkin with a sheepish grin. “It was there and I got nervous…” He looked down at the table avoiding my face behind a curtain of hair.
“Over a napkin?” I raised my eyebrows at him, one moment he’s fine and the next he’s cowering behind his long messy hair.
“No…” he continued looking down, until I was concern his chin would go straight through his chest.
“What’s horror-loving guy like yourself so nervous about?” I now only quirked one eyebrow at him resting my chin in the palm of my hand as he slumped backwards in his booth ready to drip to my feet and between the floor boards.
“You’re intimidating,” he glanced up at me waringly with his big hazel eyes.
“You’re the one who wanted to be friends…not saying I’m not guilty ‘cause I agreed,” I smiled back at him, trying to look friendly. He still looked down, was I really that terrifying. He fidgeted with his fingers, and I could see his eyes dart back and forth through his lashes, searching for something to say. I waited, knowing that pressuring shy people doesn’t cure their shyness.
“I’m not great at making friends…” he trailed off, admitting some forgotten truth.
“Oh,” his erratic behavior made sense now. He went back to looking down, and I only remember being this shy in middle school but I decided to be less ‘intimidating’ by mimicking his hunched figure. “Still scared of me?” I tried to hide behind my hair just like him and he laughed a breathy laugh.
“I guess I shouldn’t be,” he blushed. He BLUSHED! Cutie. I couldn’t help thinking and laughed silently to myself, earning a quizzical look from him.
“Duh!” I didn’t tell him that he was blushing, he possibly knew. We shared a smile instead, feeling more comfortable around each other. He looked like he was about to speak when a waitress skipped to our table and halting whatever he was about to say.
“What can I get for you lovely people?” She chirped in her overtly peppy demeanor, not saying she was bad! Definitely not!
“I would like a cappuccino,” I said amused at the way she slowly pronounced the word as she wrote it on her pad.
“And you?” She turned to Miles, who was bewildered by the sudden change of atmosphere, it’s funny seeing him struggle in front of a young hyper girl, who was really no taller than he was.
“Uh…s-same?”
“Got it!” She giggled and skipped away, with her curled ponytail bouncing after her. I smirked.
“Cute, huh?” I raised my eyebrows at him knowingly, he became even more flustered.
“Maybe a little…” he tightened his arms around his chest, seeking refuge behind his hair again.
“So…before cute-stuff bounded in here what were you going to say?” I reminded him, he bit his lip and for a moment it seemed as if he would say ‘I forgot.’ He didn’t say anything for a beat, just looked down and to the right for a bit, and I didn’t expect him to say anything so when he did I was taken slightly off-guard.
“Why are you so mad?” He blurted out, and somehow instead of cringing away again he opened up; his arms were looser around his chest, there was less hair in his face and he looked right at me. Overall he seemed less likely to drip between the floorboards, and I smiled. I actually felt comfortable around him, I still wouldn’t play with his hair or steal a cigarette from his mouth and tell him what thoughts keep me up late at night, but I can tell him about what makes me storm; I barely knew him except he’s into good music, but he is polite and endearing.
“I got in a fight with my dad …again,” I said matter-of-factly while unfolding my napkin and flattening it out.
“Do you guys not get along…or?” He furrowed his eyebrows at me, expecting more, and I laughed, once.
“No…I don’t have daddy issues, he’s great,” I assured him, feeling the need to clarify that my dad is not a jerk.
“What’s the problem, then?” He continued to search, and I had no problem telling him a tiny bit of my issues but there is that fear of saying too much.
“Well…yesterday, I came home earlier than suggested and I happened to walk in on him in a private moment,” I gave him the ‘you know what I mean’ stare, which prompted the silent ‘o’ from Miles and the whistle that accompanied that.
“Man that sucks, walking in on your parents, I did that once when I was younger…I didn’t leave my room for days,” he laughed uncomfortably at the memory, shifting in his seat until he was sitting in a less relaxed position, ready for story time. I was the uncomfortable one now, and kept my wary stare on the assortment of sugars they have on the little table, knowing I was about to head into deeper territory.
“That’s the thing, it was him and a guy,” I stated, my voice weak with embarrassment, and the look on his face was almost funny if my stomach wasn’t clenching from the memory. His eye’s bugged out and he looked like he was about to die of laughter; he was right on the verge of an entire fit.
“Aw shit! What did your mom think?!” He clutched the edge of the table and leaned forward excitedly, a devilish twinkle in eye. For guy who seems squeamish with conflict, he sure does love hearing about it. And for some reason I wasn’t expecting that and the venom that jolted through my veins caused my mouth to pucker and my eyes to narrow.
“I don’t know. She’s dead.” I said bitterly and suddenly his excited demeanor fell right through his agape mouth. He literally backpedaled, pushing himself against the back of the booth, eyes now widened by the ‘crap-wrong-button’ emotion.
“O-o-oh, I-I—,” I stopped him before he could butcher the word ‘condolences.’
“Nope. I’m not gonna break down sobbing, and kill you in a manic rage for not knowing something.” I held my hand up and looked away to show my face wasn’t going to look at the apology smeared all over his face.
“Oh…you seemed bitter,” he said after a pause and a breath. I looked at him and I could still see him treading lightly, I attempted to lend him a hint of a smile so he knew he was alright.
“Nothing personal, just…eight years and it still kind of shocks me when I hear it,” I rose my shoulders quickly before letting them fall down again. I knew that I would find sympathy in his face, and though I can’t get mad at that because I would still show sympathy if the situations were reversed. Every good person does it, because there really isn’t any other thing to do when sympathetic topics come up.
“Yeah, that makes sense. Do you want to talk about it, like how she died and…stuff?” He offered, and that’s all kind but I know better than to hash out everything right now. I twirled a lilac strand of hair around my finger and pretended to think about it.
“Nah, now’s not really the time,” I waved him off, and he looked slightly relieved.
“Well, if you ever want to…” he trailed off.
“Yeah, you’re the free shoulder to cry on,” I laughed at him and he looked down at his hands with an awkward smile. “Anyway, basically, I never knew he swung that way and he’s betraying mom, and everything is one giant plot to ruin my life.” He looked at me, something weird in his eyes.
“Well…maybe he wants to move on…” he picked at something on his nail, suddenly disengaged from the conversation. With his head tilted like that the lash-veil makes his eyes unreadable, and in the middle of my query the waitress was back announcing her appearance with our cappuccinos, some chirpy phrase and before spinning around and leaving she gave a not so subtle wink at both of us. I looked down at my drink and there was a stupid foam heart. Oh God… “Aww,” apparently Miles thinks it’s cute.
“That’s disgusting,” I sneered at my cup.
“But we match!” He said innocently, taking a sip from his foam heart, looking at me as if he knew something I didn’t.
“That doesn’t make it cute, or sweet, or ‘aww,’” I said like the little brat I am, he smirked at me with a foam mustache which I could use against him, but that’s childish.
“You’re saying it wrong,” he said like fucking Hermione. “It’s not ‘ahh’ like you’re at the doctor’s, it’s ‘aww,’ you have to lace your voice with adoration.”
“I don’t ‘adore’ things,” I rolled my eyes. He sipped his coffee in the slyest way fucking possible, while I glared him down. Apparently, I’m not intimidating anymore.
“Drink your coffee, Bandit,” he ordered playfully, apparently done with my tough-girl attitude, as if his sudden change of attitude wasn’t irritating enough.
I still drank it.

Notes

Sorry for the wait, I was being depressed and listening to Radiohead. Supposedly, that doesn't help.
Anyway, thank you for keeping up, comment/rate/subscribe? Love ya'll <33