Pretty Boy

Chapter Five

     We walked into this little grove in the park, and there was one of those carriages led by horses, and he led me to it. "You are really corny," I laughed, admiring the carriage. "What? I thought it'd be fun! Just good old-fashioned fun, also they take your phone from you, so you can't text or whatever it is you do." He handed the man driving our phones. "This is really cool," I ran my hand along the railing. "Alright, hop on," the man coughed. "Do you need help?" He offered me his hand after he climbed up. "Please," he pulled me onto the seat beside him. "Alright, here we go," the man pulled on the leads, and we started our adventure.

     We were on a trail in a large bunch of trees, and I was admiring all the colors from the flowers, and just watching. I turned to look at him, when I saw him just staring at me with a smirk on his face. I blushed, and he quickly looked away, his face redder than fire. I laughed. "Why're you looking at me when all this beautiful scenery is available at your literal fingertips?" I reached up and snagged a leaf. "I don't know, I enjoy looking at beautiful things," he looked down at his lap. I smiled ear to ear. "Awe, you're sweet, you know that. Corny, but sweet," I put my hand on his forearm. He looked at me and smiled. "And you're not too bad yourself," my hand went back down to my lap. "You're just saying that" he shook his head. "No, no, I'm being serious! I mean, you're probably one of the most popular people in school, right?" I raised my eyebrows. "I guess you could say that, yeah. But I go to a private school, and most of my classes only have 10-15 people," he said. "Oh! Most of mine have 30-40. What's your school called?" My eyes widened. "Stonewall prep." He stated. "Oh, I've heard of that place, the aesthetic is really pretty. He nodded. "Tell me more about yourself, I feel like all we talk about is me."

     "Well, I live with my mom and her new husband. My dad lives in California and skipped out on me and my mom when I was about 7. My full name is Lucas Monroe. I'm 16. My birthday is October 10th, and, um. Yeah, I don't know." He thought about it. "That's me, I guess. And you? Tell me the things I don't know." He looked at me, giving me his full attention.

     "Well, first off, cool. Second, I live with my dad, which you already know. My mom lives- lived in California, my parents divorced when I was 13. My full name is Allison Marie Stocklin. I'm 15. My birthday is July 17th. Yeah, uh, questions?" I looked back up at him.

     "Can you tell me more about your mom?" he questioned. I stammered. "You don't have to, I'm just wondering aloud," he smiled. "Okay. No, no, I'll tell you. She left me and my dad to go to California as soon as the divorce finalized. She still seemed like she cared for me back then, but the more I remember it, she didn't really. My dad never stopped loving her, and still hasn't gotten over losing her. Me and her would have weekly Facetime calls which only lasted about 5 minutes where she asked about me, and when I asked her questions about her life, she'd just ignore me. She recently sent me a letter telling me that... that..." I breathed out a shaky breath. "That she found someone new, and she was pregnant with a girl. She said she was breaking ties with us, and was leaving Cali, and changing her name and everything about herself so she could leave us behind and start a new chapter. She didn't say it, but I read in between the lines that she was basically rubbing it in our faces, and saying she got new, better versions of us." I sighed. "Yeah, that's pretty much it. God, I'm sorry for venting like that, I just really needed to talk about it." I looked up to him. He had a pained look in his eyes. "It's really okay, I promise. I'm over it." I lied. "Don't wo-" He pulled me into a hug. I was alarmed at first, but slowly hugged him back. "It's okay," he whispered. I nodded. I felt as though I couldn't say anything, and as if I had a large lump in my throat. I sniffled.

     "Okay, we're done here. Come on now. Get on out." The man stopped us back where we started. He let go and hurriedly got out and opened the door for me. "Thanks," I hopped down with his help.

     I really wish I hadn't shared as much as I did with him. The more I shared, the more he was tied to me, and would come down with me. Every time someone new came into my life, I was high, high, high, until I wasn't and crashed down, bringing them with me. I couldn't hurt him like that. I will never tell him about my problems again.

     I checked the time. 12:59. "What do you wanna do now?" He asked. "We could just walk around," I suggested. "Okay," he turned and started walking. I quickly caught up with him. We walked around the park for hours and hours, until we eventually just sat on top of this big hill and watched the kids playing at the playground below us. We hadn't realized we'd been out for that long, until the sun started to set. His phone rang. "Sorry, I need to take this." I nodded. "Hey, I'm sorry, but I need to head home. I can walk you home though," he helped me up. "I don't want you to be late." "I won't be, don't worry."

     He walked me home, and when we made it to my door, I didn't really know how to end this. I turned so I was facing him. He pulled me in by my waist into a hug, and we stood there for a minute just holding each other. I eventually let go when I heard something fall inside. "Shit!" I heard my dad mumble from inside. "Uh, I better go help him with... whatever he's doing." "Okay." "Okay." "I had a great time today, thanks for coming along with me." He smiled down at me. "Yeah, thanks for inviting me," I smiled back. "Well, goodbye, then." "Bye." I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. He blushed and started walking away.

     I walked inside the apartment to find my dad in the kitchen, trying to stir something, a mess all over the counters. No beer bottles in sight. Yet. "Hi, dad," I set my keys down on the table by the door. "Hey, sweetheart. Who was that you were with?" He looked up to me, and quickly looked back down to what he was doing. "Oh, just Cheryl." I lied through my teeth. "It sounded like a boy." "Oh, that's weird, but, nope, it was just plain ol' girl Cheryl." I grinned. "So, what're you doing?" I walked over to see over his shoulder. "Attempting to make dinner, but I'm kind of failing." He sighed. "What are you trying to make?" I rolled my sleeves up. "Lasagna." He mumbled. "Oh. Here let me help."

     The rest of the night included me and dad making dinner, then burning it, and having to throw it away, and we just ended up ordering takeout. After we ate, I changed into some pajamas, and came back out, and we re-watched Stranger Things for the 24th time, and yes, I have been counting. I slowly started to drift off, and the last part I remember was Eleven leaving her sister. 

(A/N): I was thinking, and would you guys read a Joe Keery, Steve Harrington, or JJ Maybank fanfic? If so, which one would you like most? Also, would you want me to make an OC, or have it be Y/N? Tell me your opinion!

Thanks for reading this crappy book, have an awesome day, and please don't be a ghost reader, hit that little star at the bottom, and add this to your libraries :). Thanks, guys. <3