Just in Case.. [Short story]

It's the little things. -Memory-

First of all as 11-year old tomboy, I had a mouth filled with coloured steel. Somehow I always loved my braces, I was one of the firsts to have them out of my friends, the braces ached but I tried to ignore the pain as much as possible, at least once they were out I would have the most perfect teeth in the world, well that's what I liked to be told at an age of eleven. It took me 3 years to get an ironfree mouth, but it all payed off.

I also had pretty long hair with a fringe that always messily fell in front of my eyes. I used to have it clipped back or clung along in a messy ponytail. I always had strange eyes, they had different shades of blue. Most likely I had those deep darker baby blue eyes. But once I felt negatively, like when I got angry, they would turn lighter and would be piercin blue and only from that exact moment, ten years ago, my eyes got a little shade of green in it and people told me my eyes were like the sea: beautiful but dangerous, you never know how hard you can drown in those.

I had dawled down the stairs back then, since my mum wanted me to meet the new neighbours but I didn't want to. They had replaced my best friend, she had moved away to the united states and just left me on my own. I didn't want to know these new neighbours, especially since it had been just a woman with her son. No girls, just a boy. My big brother would get a new friend, I wouldn't. Well that's what I thought back in 2003. That was until I saw him there for the first time. somehow by seeing him my judgements had dissapeared. It was like his prencense gave me a brain wash, even if I hadn't known him, he was just likeable which was weird for me, since I didn't like people easily especially people that didn't share the same intrests as me and on first sight, it seemed that the boy and I were total opposites.

He had short brown hair, neatly peaked up. A plain black t-shirt over his lighter jeans that clung perfectly around his waist, not 10 inches lower than it should be, like my brother always wore his trousers. He had his silver gameboy advance SP, wich was the newest portable game console back then, in his trembling hand. I had made a disgusted face at that. I hated technology, I was perfectly fine with a soccerball or a skateboard or a jumping rope to sound more girly. 

I, on my part, wore some old shorts, well at least the fabric what was left due all the wholes I had from falling and a pink t-shirt that said: 'I HATE MONDAYS.' Those two items were already one size too small. Plus, they were covered with paint, just like my legs, arms, face, the ends of my hair but most likely my hands. The reason behind my paint splattered body was that my parents let me paint my room when I felt like it, and let me do whatever I wanted to do with it. They had clamed it as my room, so it was totally all mine.

So like I said, at first sight we already had a huge difference. He was all neat while I was the wreck, and many differences were exposed later. I wiped of as much paint as I could onto my shorts once I reached the end of the stairs and went shaking the boys hand. But instead of shaking my hand, two of his fingers found a clean skin and shook it there giving me a small smile. “Leon.” He whispered shyly. I immediately shot him a huge smile back. “Alison, but everyone calls me Ali and I don't like it. You can call me Al.” I rambled confidently. 

The thought of never wanting to know him had been fading away to slowly dissapearing after the months. Leon was one year older than me, he had never known his dad and his mother had always been very strictly with him, which I wouldn't understand. His life was filled with rules. Example: his mum didn't let him climb in trees, or go outside after 6, even if it was just to the family next door. I found it quite sad, since I was carefree, didn't live by rules since my parents never put up some and if something happened it would all be my fault. My parents would worry and they would care. But they wouldn't regret letting me out after six, or letting me climb in trees. They would just ground me and I would accept it. That's how the family worked and we barely got into fights.