Home is where the heart is

Chapter 5

"I didn't ask for your fucking name," I say while wiping tears out of my eyes. He laughs at my remark, obviously not offended and walks a little closer to me. "What the Fuck are you doing?" I say as he comes even closer. He stops moving for a second and then does an annoyingly adorable half smile. "Well, I was planning on sitting at the table you're sitting at," he says. "I come in here and sit in that booth everyday looking out the window, writing poetry and drinking coffee while I watch people pass by. I had a good system. Then you come in here and ruin my system, and thats not gonna work. But you seem a little... umm... sad, so I've decided to make a compromise. I'll sit on my side of the booth and you'll sit on yours and if you dont want to talk we dont have to but if you do then we can," he states. I look at him then. He's rambling. Why do I like it when he rambles?!?!

"You actually sit in here and write poetry? And stalk people out the window while drinking overpriced coffee?" I ask in a mocking tone. Who has the money to do that?

His shoulders slump down to the ground then and he lets out a longing sigh. "I wish," he says. "I just work here. My shift just got done and I was heading out when I saw you over here."

I look down at the table. Should I let him sit across from me or should I tell him to leave me the fuck alone? I should just tell him to go to hell and stop bothering random girls in diners like a pervert. But... He did come over here to see if I was okay. It'd be the least I could do...

I jerk my head towards the other side of the booth begrudgingly and know I'll regret it. He smiles again and I want to smile back so bad but I can't let him get to me. I won't.

"So... what's wrong?" He asks after a long pause. I look up at him with an expressionless face. "I don't think that's any of your damn business." His face turns bright red. "I didn't mean to pry, I swear. I just wanted to see if...you know...there was anything I could do to help you out," he says. He's getting scared... good... that means that I'm winning.

Just then my phone rings. I look at the number and I assume it's Todd's which is oh so perfect for this exact moment. I turn my phone off and shove it into my empty purse. "Who was that?" Ryland asks curiously. "No one," I say a little too quickly. He gives me a questioning look. "You know, you can tell me what's wrong. I'm not gonna tell anyone your secrets. It'll just be between me and you, I swear."

"Yeah, but that's what bitches do. They tell all their secrets to people they don't know, cry over people they don't like, and wish that their life wasn't as sad and pathetic as it really is, and I don't wanna do that more than I already have," I say.

Ryland looks up at me. Then he looks at me with the worst expression I could ever imagine... pity. My worst enemy since I was put into foster care has always been pity. Whenever I was given away again or brought in to a new house, they all gave me that look. And now Ryland looks at me with the same look all of them gave me. My stomach drops into my ass as I realise that Ryland is now just like all of them. Someone who thinks I can't handle anything on my own and will always be a failure... just like my parents.

"You don't have to feel that way Taylor. It's fine if you need to get some things out to someone and I'd be happy to listen. I won't judge you at all no matter what you say," he says, surprising me with his response. I debate for a long while in my head. Outside, the sun has set and the lights of the city are up. The lights are my favorite thing in New York. They remind you that in the darkest nights is when we shine the brightest.

So in the back of that coffee shop in New York, I tell Ryland Bradstone about my darkest night.