"So you know I'm a junior." I say once we are seated in the cute little coffee house. We found our way to the back corner, and have already ordered our food at the front. This place has got weird ordering system, but the food is delicious, and thats all that really matters.
Reading him is difficult. He's sitting there, staring, with a hint of a smirk on his face, and all I can think is I want to know him.
He has kind of a dark green thermal shirt that makes his eyes crazy green, and only now do I notice the hint of blue in them. They're hazel, I realize. His eyes are like the ocean, but under the surface. The crazy parts in the ocean. Even though there is blue, all the other colors are there too and I just want to stare and stare and stare.
"Yes, you are a junior." He says.
"Well, are you in school?"
"Yes, I'm a senior. Ive done my time." The drink come, and he's ordered a tea, raspberry I think, and he only puts one packet of sugar in it. Remember that. Raspberry, with one packet of sugar.
I look up and remember what I wanted to ask him. A slit like scar across his eyebrow, and I would like to know what it is. It makes him more attractive, weirdly enough.
"Where did you get that scar through your eyebrow?" I ask randomly, out of the blue, in the dead silence of us and in the loud background of the cafe.
His eyes get sad immediately. His body language went from happy to uncomfortable and slightly angry in the time span of 2 seconds, and I immediately regret my question.
"Im sorry, you must be at least a level four friend to unlock my tragic backstory." Elliot says, correcting is posture and giving me a small smile. He sipped his tea and rested his back against the booth.
"Im sorry, I shouldn't be asking about scars. Too personal."
"No, I wouldn't say so. Not for most people. But for me, kind of. Like the scar on your right hand. Im guessing thats not a tragic story for you, is it?"
I take a sip of my coffee, making my eyes wide with betrayal.
"What do you mean 'not a tragic story' . It was a very tragic experience for me. My cat scratched me and didn't even say sorry, and she has never, ever, scratched me before."
He laughed, and the waiter came with our food. He ordered and veggie burger. Ketchup in the shape of a smiley face, and the eyes and mouth is mustard. Don't forget, Sage. Veggie burger with a smile.
"Are you a vegetarian?" I ask.
"I am indeed. Keeps me healthy, keeps me going. You know. I see you're definitely not a vegetarian." He notices, eyeing my plate of ham and cheese sandwich.
"I am not."
Theres a moment of him staring at me. Not in a creepy way, not in an uncomfortable way. Just looking. And then,
"What are your biggest fears?" He asks, still looking, lie he's trying to read me, analyze me like a book.
"My biggest fears?"
"Your biggest fears."
I look at him with distrusting eyes.
"What are yours?"
He matches my expression, and I laugh.
"Trusting people. Loving people."
I look down at my coffee and take a small sip, noticing that the heat is slowly being stripped by time.
"Me too."
Time seemed to have slowed down. There is a tension in the room with a boy I've never met before, and I wish that I had known him soon. Longer. Because I really, really want to know him. I'm not really sure why. He just seems comfortable. Like he's comfortable to be around, comfortable to talk to. But yet, I still don't know how to let him know what I'm think. It's inly the first date. I'll probably learn soon, I guess. Probably.
"Do you want to do something extraordinary?"
I look at him. Brushing my hair from my eyes I give him a smile.
"Well of course. "
He smiles wide, from ear to ear. Grabbing my hand, we get up and head for the door.
------------------------
"So what exactly are we going to be doing?" I ask. We've been driving for what seems like ages, when in reality it's probably only been an hour. But still. And hour in a car with someone you've never met before? Kind of a weird situation, but definitely a good time to learn a little. So far I learned on this drive that Elliot likes Walk the Moon. And also, keeps a freaking library in his car.
No, I'm not kidding. A library. His car contains a whole library, basically shelved and everything, underneath the floorboards of his trunk. It has everything. From John Green to Charles Dickens, all in the tiny shelf of what he calls the "secret stash happiness."
So upon his offer, I'm reading one of his books while listening to Walk the Moon, and also not having a clue where we're going.
This is the kind of spontaneity that excites me. It's also the kind of spontaneity that will probably kill me someday.
We stop at a four way at an old abandoned road. This place looks oddly familiar.
"Do you mind maybe telling me what we're doing?" I ask, taking a short break from "Hate List", which is a book about the loss of a boyfriend who had extreme homicidal thoughts, along with the classmates who he killed and the rest who think she helped him kill them.
"I do mind. It's very impolite to question my navigation abilities, " he says. "But really, if you want to know I'll tell you. I just don't want it to ruin the mystery."
With a laugh I say, "It's alright. I would never want to spoil the mystery for you. "
About an hour and twenty minutes into the drive, we pull into a very, very long driveway. And at the end of the driveway, a house party. At a very, very big house.
This will be a long night.
YOU ARE READING
Staying Sane
Ficção AdolescenteThere is one thing that keep Elliot and Sage sane. Two different people, two different lives, two different towns, and two different ideas of a fun Saturday night. While they may have many things not in common, they do have one thing that keeps them...