meant to be yours | d.w

10

"I'm searching for a phrase that will release everything that's pent up in me"

Is life really just one novel right before our eyes?

Do we have our exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and the moment where we take our final breathes and say our goodbyes? The idea of fate seems so ridiculous, but perhaps it's a real thing. Maybe I just don't want to accept it.

I believed in fate in that couple of minutes when I was in the antique store. I felt it so strongly within my bones when I idiotically walked backwards for just a moment. Fate was real when I bumped into someone, only to turn around and see it was Sodapop.

Sodapop feels like that emotion you get when you ride a bike for the first time without falling. He lifted my spirits when I saw him, his face instantly beaming when he realized it was me.

"What're you doing here?" Sodapop said, his eyes glinting with joy to see me, but also an emotion we all know an hate: embarrassment.

I took him in as a whole, Sodapop Curtis in an antique shop? I would have never guessed.

"I could ask you the same question." I said, a grin suppressing throughout my features.

Soda averted his eyes from mine, shoving his hands in his pockets. "It's about my girl, her birthdays coming up and I don't have a clue what to get her." He admitted.

My heart warmed at just the sight of this. Soda looked as if he was beginning to grow even more uncomfortable at my silence. "What're you being all quiet for?" He blurted out.

My lips were pressed together in a smile, I could barely contain myself. "Nothing, I just think this is adorable, and funny too."

Soda cocked his head to the side. "Why's it funny?"

I smirked, looking around me and how unnatural it felt to see Sodapop here. "The fact that you could fix just about any car but can't find a present for your girl."

Soda was now laughing, his eyes gleaming with slight annoyance, and yet humor at the same time.

"Oh shut it."

We were beginning to receive a harsh stare from the old lady working at the register. She looked to be highly concentrated on something in the newspaper, and getting interrupted was not a priority on her list today. Me and Soda toned down our voices after seeing the woman looking upset with us.

"I'll help you if you want." I offered out of impulse.

For the most part, I regret my sudden bursts of impulse that I always happen to get. But this was one that I knew I wouldn't regret. Helping people like Soda made me feel a way that I can't describe in fancy terms. To be blunt about it, it makes me feel, well, good.

The short and sweet word: good, can have so many meanings. You could be a good person in general, someone who does good, or even both. It's all up to your perspective to decide what kind of good you want to do, or be. Or I suppose you don't have to be good at all.

Soda's beaming smile when I put out that idea made it all the more worth it.

"That'd be great."

It had now been a good hour since I first ran into Sodapop. We picked out a gift for his girl, a gorgeous necklace that we both knew she'd love. It's simple looking, but so immaculately gorgeous with its array of pearls strung onto the chain.

Soda stood in the middle of the street outside of the antique store, a look of admiration bestowed on his face. He then tucked it away in the small white pouch the salesman gave him, keeping it safe in his pocket.