Cold Coffee

The Middle

Once she was outside of the building, she made her way to the bus station and got on the one headed towards Brooklyn. When she arrived, she stepped outside and walked down the street going towards the bridge where she stood now, one arm wrapped around the pole, the other gripping her "box of pain" as she liked to call it. She remained standing on the rail, still contemplating whether or not this was really the right thing to do when a voice called to her from nearby.

"You leaving as well?" asked the young, male voice. It was masculine, but contained the slightest hint of sorrow woven with question. She quickly spun to her right nearly losing her balance. Luckily, she grabbed the pole before she plummeted into the water below. The boy made his way over to her, where she had now sat down on the railing and plopped himself next to her. He was tall, a little buff. He was wearing a black leather, hooded jacket, ripped jeans and old skater sneakers that had certainly seen better days. His face was slightly illuminated by the city and the moon. His hair was brown, longer on the top and shorter on the sides, all scattered messily on his head. His eyes were as blue as the water in the day time, seeming to glow like a creature from outer space. He sat waiting for a reply; she was so captivated by his gorgeous features and surprised by his sudden presence that she nearly forgot he was there in the first place.

"Oh...uh...I'm still thinking about it" she replied quietly, keeping her eyes trained in front of her, not daring to look back into his powerful, blue orbs.

"I know how you feel" he said after a couple minutes of silence, "It's definitely not an easy decision".

"You got that right" she stated matter-of-factly, still looking straight ahead. Silence engulfed the two once again, both enjoying what could be their last bit of fresh air and peace. After a little while, the boy spoke yet again.

"So what are you doing up here?" he asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" She questioned, "Besides, what makes you think I would tell you? I don't even know who the hell you are" she snapped.

"The names Blake. Blake MacDonald. There, now you know me".

"Real funny, smart-ass" she stated monotonously.

"Thank you, I try" Blake replied, "so, are you going to tell me or not".

"I still don't know anything about you" she said.

"Why does it matter? I mean come on, look where you are right now".

"You have a point", said the girl, "but here's an even better question. What are you doing up here".

"Probably close to the same thing you were about to do".

"Why?" she questioned.

"What makes you think I would tell you? I don't even know who the hell you are" Blake retorted in the most girlish voice he could muster.

She rolled her eyes, "If you tell me, then I guess I'll tell you".

"Deal" he said, "Now...where to begin.

"I guess you could say it started around two years go. My dad had just landed a new job on Wall Street. The pay was nearly double the amount he had been getting before and had much better benefits. So, we packed up the house and came to the 'oh so glorious' big apple. I was forced to leave everything behind in this little town out in Minnesota. I had everything there; my friends, my family, school, soccer, my whole life. Naturally, I wasn't very excited when my dad told me I had to throw that all away and move to NYC. But, I tried my best to cover up my unhappiness. We moved into a decently sized penthouse that was paid for by Dad's work. It was ok the first couple of weeks, it was still summer and the city was ten times more amazing than I thought it would be. And then school just had to start. I thought it wouldn't be that bad, that maybe I could find a group of friends or something. Jesus, was I wrong".