started w/ rain

It's Raining Cats & Bikes

I can already tell today's going to be a bad day. Why are rainy days always the worst days? I woke up late, fell out of bed, put my pants on backwards, tripped down the stairs, and worse of all one of my contacts fell down the drain. I'm legally blind, I can't see anything without my contacts, but I guess I'm just going to have to go around half blind today. I would wear my glasses... but I haven't gotten new ones since 7th grade when I went through my Zac Efron phase; let's just say I don't wear my High School Musical themed glasses anymore.

I'm munching on shredded wheat at the moment. Tommy and Jake, my 2 younger brothers ate all of the cocoa puffs, my favorite cereal. Humf. Tommy and Jake are both 7 years old, they're twins. The worst thing about have twin brothers is they do 2 times the damage as one little brother.

Just then, my mom yells from down the hall, "Jules sweetie, will you pick up the dry cleaning on your way home from work?" Shoot shoot shoot. I forgot about work.

I have a summer job at the local zoo. Since there is only one week of summer left I've been trying to forget about work, I guess it worked.

The Wasatch Zoo is the only place in town that is close enough to ride my bike to, and that will hire 16 year olds, but really I'm the only teenager in my whole neighborhood who even needs a job. Okay I take it back I don't "need" a job, my parents are rich they just believe in "preparing me for the future." Honestly I don't blame them, I think it's smart to make your children own their own money, I just wish my parents would get me a car.

Which brings me to my biggest argument that I have with my parents; adding on to being the only kid in all of Berkley High School who works, I'm also the only one without a car. Most days it doesn't end up mattering, since my best friend Tia drives me everywhere. But I hate driving with her. Don't get me wrong, I'm truly grateful to have a friend that chauffeurs me around, but she drives like a mad man! She's had her license for less than a year and she's already gone through 2 cars. Luckily her parents are even richer than mine and don't mind spending money on their "princess."

"Sweetie?" my mom yells again. "Ok mom, I'll make sure I pick it up." I yell back. I look at the clock and realize it's 9:23. Are you serious?! My shift starts in 7 minutes!

I throw my bowl with the rest of my shredded wheat in the sink, splashing milk on my shirt. Agh! Are you freaking kidding me?! I run and brush my teeth, knowing I won't have time to change my shirt.

I run out the door while grabbing my rain coat and sneakers. As I'm hopping along to my bike, trying to put my shoes on, not having enough time to tie them, I trip.

•••

It's wet and soggy outside, it's times like this that I NEED want a car. I peddle as fast as I can in the direction of the zoo.

I feel a tugging at my foot and look down to see my shoe lace stuck in the gears of the bike. My foot's stuck! I can't stop the bike at this point, I'm going too fast and it's too wet to slow down!

Thunk!

I crumple to the ground along with my bike. "Ouch" I say out loud. I'm still a little confused as to what happened, did my gears pop off and break my bike? I hear a moan, and I look to my left. What the heck, there's a really hot and I mean REALLY hot guy who's probably around my age sprawled right next to me. What is he doing?

"Oh dang it all." I say as I realized what's happened. I must've hit him, that's what must have sent me flying. I look over again and realize he has a gash on his forehead. Why wasn't that the first thing I noticed when I looked over? Must've been my missing contact and the rain in my eyes I say in my head to make me feel a little less guilty, but really I know it wasn't my missing contact. It was most definitely not my contact because I can clearly see this really attractive guy lying next to me, who by the way is in a nice fitting white t-shirt hugging his chest from all the rain and khakis. Ahhh I love it when guys wear khakis!! Wait, what am I thinking? This guy could easily be bleeding out and dying, and I'm thinking about khakis?! What is wrong with me?!

I stand up and try to pull the really hot stranger over into the grass so he isn't on the hard sidewalk, and then look around to see if there is someone to help me. There isn't anyone. Think Julia, think. I look at his gash and realize it's probably big enough to call 911. Well actually I don't know if I should call an ambulance for this, I've never been in a situation where I've needed to call 911, but I really don't have any other options.

I dial 911 on my phone and someone on the other end picks up immediately. "911, what is your emergency?" says a lady with a perky voice. Why is she so happy?

"Well I don't really know, I hit a guy with my bike, and he has a huge gash on his forehead and he's unconscious. I don't have a car to drive him to a hospital or wherever I'm supposed to go in these situations."

"Do you know who he is?"

"Nope."

"Okay. Well if he's unconscious then you must've hit him pretty hard." the lady on the other end of the phone says jokingly, "I'll send ambulance to you, but you need to remain calm, and stay in the line." As soon as she said that, I realized I was holding my breath; I let out a sigh and tried to relax. "Okay! Thank you very much. I'm on Newberry St. by Berkley High School."

•••

The lady on the phone, who I learned
was named Silvia, talked to me while I waited for the ambulance. She told me to prop the guy I hit up on a fence in a sitting position, and put pressure on the cut on his forehead, so that he doesn't loose as much blood. But I keep getting distracted, because the super attractive guy I hit is wearing a white t-shirt, which in the rain is practically translucent, so it doesn't cover his abs which are soooo toned and the reason why I keep getting distracted. So I take my jacket off and lie it over him, hoping I can just concentrate on keeping him alive.

I finally hear the sirens coming down the street, and it hits me: I knocked a guy out and he could possibly die because of my clumsiness. Oh my heck, this is so stressful; I can't believe I knocked some guy out! Okay, if it had been anyone else, anyone less hot, then whatever, but I'm so nervous just being around him.

The paramedics or ambulance doctors or whatever they're called arrive and pull out a stretcher. They lay Señor Hottie (which is what I've started calling him) on it and tell me to keep putting pressure on his head and to not move my hands, or else he might bleed out even more.

We hop into the ambulance and speed to the hospital. I can't help but realize how good Sr. Hottie looks just laying there. Sure I hit him with my bike and may have given him a concussion, but it's still okay to hit on him too, right?