From Your Window

Double Parked

"I'm coming, I swear." I assure Lexi's worried voice over the phone. I drive my faded blue, beat up pickup truck semi- recklessly into the school parking lot, eyeing the abundance of on-time students cars' in all my go-to parking spaces.

"Were you working late again?" She accuses.

Yes.

"No." I lie, diverting half my attention to my search for a parking spot. I turn the corner of the parking lot, scanning for a space.

Lexi's silence on the phone speaks more than words, and I can imagine her expresssion, waiting for me to confess.

"Ok, Yes." I admit. Lexi is my best friend. She gets me and my personality like no one else, but being broke isn't a peronslaity trait. And if it was, it's not one I would want to advertise.

"Lise..." She starts, before I interrupt her, knowing what she's going to say. I know this lecture all too well. It's one littered with pity and wrapped in assurance. It usually starts with 'Let me help you.' and ends with 'We're in this together, Lise. Whether you like it or not." I love Lexi, but I'm not going to drag her down with me. I can fight my own battles, I always have.

"Look, I gotta go." I say quickly, relaising that I should probably focus on finding parking. It's not only that though. It's hard for me to hear Lexi's speech on how 'I'm just sixteen' and how I should be 'living my life,' becasue I know she's right, but there's nothing I can do. Bussing tables from dinner rush till midnight- shockingly- isn't included in my ideal alolecence, but neither is the need to pay bills.

"Okay," She sighs. "I better see you walking in the classroom door very soon, very aplogetic." She threatens.

"I'm always aplogetic!" I let out sarcastic gasp, offended.

"Uh huh." She laughs and hangs up the phone. I release my phone from it's awkward shoulder-ear holding position and drop into my lap. I lean towards the steering wheel, trying to get a better view of any hidden parking spots as I drive slowly through the lot.

A space up to my left catches my eye. It's a small space, wedged in between two cars, but my old two seat pickup can fit- right? I consider my options.

1) Be late. (Bonus: teacherly wrath)

2) Face a lawsuit for scarping my rearview mirrows along the lusterous paint of the expensive car aside the space.

I decide the latter, and start to drive towards the spot. Suddenly, a motorcycle speeds into my parking space.

Are you serious?

The rumbling sound of the bike's engine suddenly stops as the driver turns the key in the ignition. I glance towards the parking theif, taking them in. They stand tall in front of me, their muscualr upper body showing through a grey v-neck t-shirt. Their arms are covered in intricate tattoos, mostly on their biceps are forearms.

Who rides a motorcycle in a t-shirt? Idiot. I internmally roll my eyes, snapping myself out of my gaze. They knew I was going for that spot. What a dick.

I throw open my car door, being weary that if I opened it too hard, it might just fall off its hinges.

"Hey!" I shout to the person, stepped out of my car and holding on to the door. "I was going actually going to park there." I explain sweetly, pretending like I'm not furious.

My voice catches their attention and they glance my way. They remove their black motorcycle helmet littered with worn, colorful stickers and black hair falls out of it. He shakes his head then runs a hand through his hair in attempt to fix his helmet hair. He wears two unmatched dangled earings, a cross on one side and a lightning bolt- looking shaped one on the other.