"Michael is always late," Therese groans, reluctantly sitting down on a bench. She and I had just gotten some food and were currently waiting in the middle of the park for her boyfriend, who was due to pick us up about twenty minutes ago.
"Maybe if you would stop talking to him and distracting him, he would get on the road faster," I remind her.
She shoots me a glare and I laugh. "Lighten up, will you, it's summer!" When she doesn't respond, I scooch closer to her and nudge her shoulder. "Three whole months of no homework, and no having to talk to people we hate, remember?"
She cracks a smile but doesn't say anything.
"And," I add, just to tease her, "you have an excuse to come over every day and I'll even let you stalk my brother without complaining."
At this, she laughs. "Come on, Lily, that was years ago. And who needs your stupid brother when I have Michael?"
"I'll never forget," I say dramatically. "Fourth of July- you were eight, he was ten. You chased him around our front yard for ten straight minutes screaming 'I love you Luke!' until he finally ran upstairs and locked you out of his room."
"Shut up, Lily," Therese groans.
"He was traumatized," I say, laughing.
"He was ten," she rolls her eyes. "But the days of chasing after Luke Hemmings are over, because now I have Michael."
"Oh right," I say sarcastically. "I forgot you went from liking blonds to liking purples."
"His hair is not going to be purple forever, you know, so you can stop with the comments now." Therese is annoyed now, which makes me laugh.
"Oh, yeah," I smile. "So what color is he doing next? Pink? Perhaps a nice aquamarine?"
"Green, actually," she replies, "and it's going to look hot and you're going to be jealous."
Suddenly her phone dings, and she looks down, signaling the end of the conversation.
What my best friend sees in a guy with purple hair and why he feels the need to dye it constantly is beyond me, but Michael is a cool guy, so naturally I had to be his friend.
Therese says I have this annoying need to make everyone my friend and someday this will blind me so much that I'll end up pregnant. I don't follow her logic- why wouldn't I want to be friends with everyone? And what's it to her if I do? I would certainly rather have everyone tolerate me than everyone hate me.
I guess I could be considered a likable person. I'm just kind of...there, the nice girl who will always cheer you up or buy you a bag of candy from the gas station convenience store. I have never come across a person who I have despised, and who despised me back.
Funny how as I'm thinking this, I notice a guy sitting on the bench opposite ours. The thing was. He was looking back at me. Maybe not at me, more at the thing just above my head, but the intense gaze from his brown eyes makes me kind of uncomfortable.
I avert my eyes quickly, but Therese noticed me looking and nudges me. "What's up with him?" she says.
"Who even is that guy?"
"I don't know, I've never seen him before," Therese shrugs.
"He looks like an Alex," I say, taking in his black hair and tan skin.
Therese laughs. "He does not!"
"Then what does he look like?" I say indignantly, shifting my position on the bench.
"An emo freak," she replies. "Focus, Lily, we're here to wait for Michael, not to meet people."
"He is not an emo freak," I tell her. "Just because someone is wearing all black doesn't make them an emo freak. And come on, like Michael doesn't look like an emo freak?"
"Um, shut up?" She says indignantly, sounding more like a question than a supposed comeback. She doesn't say anything else after that, and I figure I've tortured her enough, so I stay quiet while she continues to text her boyfriend.
This guy on the opposite bench is still staring at whatever is above my head, and I quickly glance up to make sure there's nothing on top of my head. He runs his fingers through the bleached stripe in his hair and adjusts his ear buds before shifting his gaze and settling back down into the bench.
He sticks out like a sore thumb in this park, due to his choice in clothing, and I can't help but stare. He's subconsciously tapping his foot to the beat of whatever he's listening to. It's at least sixty-five degrees, but he's still wearing ridiculously tight black skinny jeans and a blue beanie. The guy is admittedly very attractive.
Suddenly he catches me staring and looks up. We make eye contact for less than a second, but I can feel his brown eyes on me as I quickly pretend to be interested in Therese's conversation with Michael.
"Tell him to stop texting while driving," I tease.
"He's not driving, he's right there," she says, rolling her eyes and getting up. I laugh and follow her gaze to where Michael is standing, phone in hand. We get up and walk over to him, and I ignore the boy's stare on me, even though I can feel it on the back of my head.
"Hey, Michael," I say. He smiles at me and kisses Therese's cheek. I stand there, feeling like an awkward third wheel, which usually happens with the two of them. Their relationship is cute, interesting and, to be honest, kind of annoying. They always bicker over the stupidest things, and are too stubborn to admit that they're both wrong and I'm right. The little fights always end with Therese ignoring Michael for three minutes, tops. Michael will get annoyed with this and bother her nonstop until she gives in and laughs. They're so predictable.
He casually throws an arm around her shoulder and they walk in front of me.
"Guys," I say, but they're ignoring me. "Guys, I left my phone, I'll be right back." Therese nods vaguely but Michael says something to her and she laughs, turning her attention back to him.
I walk slowly back to the bench to retrieve my phone.
I pick up my phone and turn it on quickly to check the battery. Once I see that it's almost full, I spin around and smash straight into a black jacket. Startled, I jump back and look up.
It's the boy.
Up close, his eyes are even darker and he smells really good- like smoke when it doesn't come out of your hair for days.
The silence that seems to last forever is almost unbearable.
"You and your friend talk loud," he finally whispers. His deep, raspy voice catches me off guard. I don't reply. "Next time you want to talk about someone behind their back, I suggest you keep your voices down."
"We didn't say anything bad," I say, unfazed at his clear attempts to scare me as he steps back a little bit.
"I know, I could hear you. A loud voice like that could get kind of annoying," he replies, raising his eyebrows. I know I've probably lost Michael and Therese, but I don't care. I'm too distracted to think about anything but this guy in front of me who seems to think he can stand there and call me out for talking too loud.
"That's kind of rude," I say bluntly, which is totally unlike me. "People won't like you very much if you say rude things to them when you don't even know their name."
He shifts his weight. I can tell he clearly wasn't anticipating a conversation with me, probably more of an insult-and-move-on type thing, but it's too late. "People don't really like me anyway."
"Probably because you insult them," I laugh.
When he doesn't reply and stands there staring at me, I decide I've bothered him enough and extend a hand. "I'm Lily."
He ignores it. "I didn't ask."
I roll my eyes. "Of course. I should have known. Now if you'll excuse me, you've made my friends wait."
I start to walk away, but he yells from behind me, "wait!"
I turn around. "What?"
"You got my name wrong," he mumbles. "It's Calum."
He hesitates for a second before slowly walking away.
