sparks | henry creel

042

"So, was the guy from last night your brother?" Greyson asks. I shake my head, taking a sip of my orange juice.  "No," I chuckle. "Oh, so why was he so protective of you?" He asks. "Because," I take one big gulp of my drink, then I set it down, "he just is."
"Come on. You lead up to all that suspense drinking your juice, yet you just leave me with that?" He pouts.

"I don't know what he is too me. He hadn't been in my life for a while up until last night. It's confusing," I look out the window, watching as cars go by. "Okay. I guess I sort of owe you a question. So shoot away," he leans back in his chair.

I think for a few seconds.

"Who are you still trying to get over?" I ask. It's something I was quite intersted in.
"I dated this girl a few months ago. We were close, real close, in fact. But she left me." He looks at the table. "Fuck her, it sounds like she was leading you on from what little I know." I scoff, thinking back to my mom and dad.

"Yeah, she left me for my bestfriend, too. That's the worse part," he chuckles to himself, taking a sip of his coffee. "Alejandro?" My mouth drops.
He nods.
"And does Alejandro know this?"
He shakes his head. "They're still together, but I haven't had the chance to talk to him about it."
"You were literally at his house last night."
"Yeah, sure, but it wasn't really a 'Your girlfriend broke my heart and she'll probably do the same to you' kind of setting." He sets his coffee down.
This really shows what kind of person he is. Instead of being mad at Alejandro, who, sure, doesn't know he is dating a heartbreaker, but every sixteen year old boy who has feelings is going to be upset at the wrong person in this scenario. Let's me honest, because they don't know any better.
But Greyson is trying to help his friend instead of doing something for himself, which is something a lot of people at my school would do.
"So, it looks like you're bruise is healing." I change the subject, noticing the cloud in the room is growing larger with every passing second.
"Yeah, a surprise, huh? Your... Friend.... Hit me pretty hard." He chuckles. "I'm still so-"
"How many times now have I told you not to apologize? You're not the person at fault. I shouldn't have tried to kiss you after knowing you a few hours, that was poor judgement. And he shouldn't have punched me. I don't blame you at all," he assures me.

By the time the bill came, he scolded me for taking out my wallet. I was going to bring up I'm the one who got you punched in the first place which is kind of what got us to this restaurant in the first place, but decided that would just make him even more frustrated. So we settled on me leaving the tip.
"I don't get how you can leave just a single ten dollar bill. The service here wasn't astonishing," he opens the door for me.

"Because, whether it was astonishing or not, we got our drinks and our food in a timely manner, and the waitress had a good attitude. And even if she was a total bitch and the food was cold, she could be having a bad day, and waiters hardly get any pay to began with," I shrug my shoulders, shutting the door behind me. "Okay, fair."

He follows me to my bike. "How far do you live from here?" I ask, picking the bike up. "A good five minutes. I'll be fine walking."

Something tells me it isn't five minutes.

"Okay. Well here's my number, if you ever wanna hangout again." I grab a gum wrapper from out of my back pocket, writing my number on it.
"Thank you, Heather." He gives a small wink before turning around.

I wanted to ask how he knows my name; I don't remember telling him. In fact, he called me Heather in the first five minutes of us talking.