An Unfathomable Life

tres

I think that the biggest compliment you can possibly pay someone is when you can entirely be yourself around them. When you feel so comfortable around them that you feel that you can just be entirely you and not a you 2.0. The biggest compliment in my opinion is an unspoken one but that doesn't make it any lesser than one said out loud. The compliment is not what you say, it's how you act.

That is what I had written the evening after my first, no, second encounter with the boy that had the grey eyes. The boy who was thunder.

It was over a week ago, but on Friday evening (the last day of school before the October half term, and the dreaded arrival of my parents after their four month long stay in Barbados that stretched over the majority of my summer holiday and the first two months of school) I decided to go back to the diner, out of curiosity perhaps, or maybe because the food was surprisingly brilliant.

The lights were closed when I approached the diner but there was still somebody inside. I hovered by the door, looking at the 'closed' sign swinging from side to side due to either the wind or the fact that it was recently turned over. I assumed on the latter because the door was slightly ajar. My fingers were just reaching for the doorknob when it opened.

(There was this part of me that had hoped against all hope that the boy would be there but there was another that was regretting coming to the diner the whole walk there simply because I was afraid by the prospect of seeing him.)

The fearful part of me overwhelmed the hopeful part when I was flung face to face with him again by a whirlwind of chance.

I was scared of him. So scared. When I looked at him all I could see was the dark clouds circling in his eyes, thunderous against his angelic features. The blonde hair and the thin sharp face. He had looked beautiful before, when I first saw him for those fleeting moments. But when he was right in front of me, he was just so intense. Beautiful didn't even begin to describe it.

"Mandy? Hello?" He had been saying something to me but I hadn't been paying attention.

I tried to reply but it's hard to talk when your breath has deserted you.

I cleared my throat and straightened my blazer. "Hi."

"Im sorry but it's closed, I'm the last person here and I was just on my way out," he said and I realised I was blocking his path by standing directly in front of the door.

"Oh, okay." I sighed. I hadn't eaten one of the microwaveable pizzas my mother had left me to save space for dinner at the diner. My stomach had caught up with my hunger and rumbled while i talked, "I'll just leave then, thanks anyway." I stepped away, out of his path and he walks out, locking up the door.

"You must be hungry, you should eat something, somewhere," He said to me.

"I wouldn't know where to go," I admit.

"I'll show you a place that has great coffee if you like," he suggested.

His face is so open, so vulnerable, so good. His face changes like the weather, dramatic. He seemed like the kind of person who never had in-between moods. When he's angry, he's raging. When he's sad, he's broken. When he's happy, he's overwhelming. Intense.

"I couldn't."

He gave me a funny look. "You couldn't? Or you can't?"