Scripted || 𝒲𝒶𝓁𝓀ℯ𝓇 𝒮𝒸ℴ𝒷ℯ𝓁𝓁

I Run Into A Boy (literally)

[A few days later]

I walk towards a diner that had just opened up on the east end of town.

Cameras flashed as I pass shops, and people take pictures of me secretly.

As I enter the small white building that smelled like fresh fruit, and sit down, a waitress wearing a small apron wrapped around her waist takes my order.

Clouds of all different shapes float delicately in the sky, and winds whip by and create a whistle nearby.

Time flies by, and the next thing I know, I'm back out on the street, shivering from the fresh air.

I look down at my shoes walking along the pavement, and then I see another.

I look up, but not in time. I stop abruptly, but he keeps walking, on his phone, without noticing me until it was too late.

I walked into a boy. He was about five feet seven, with golden curls and eyes like the watercolor paintings hung in the art museum by my house. He looked about fifteen.

I stumble back, and almost fall.

He finally looks up from his phone at me.

I say a quiet "Sorry" and walk to the side of him.

I hear him mutter the same under his breath, but I keep walking, and weaving through the crowd.

I hear a ring coming from my pocket. I take my phone out and sit on a nearby bench.

As I look at the screen that says the call is from an unknown number, it rings again.

I hesitantly press the green button and hold the phone up to my ear, expecting it to be spam.

A man on the other line starts talking, and as he continues, my eyes light up, an I let a small, sharp gasp escape my mouth.

My lips curl into a smile as I hang up the phone.

I run home as quickly as I can without stepping on any children's shoes, or stray napkins escaping the doors of restaurants.

I open the heavy oak doors to my house, and rush inside, calling for my family to come downstairs.

"I got the part!"