The Time Traveller

The Prolouge

The sky. Not middle of the day blue, but more like a backdrop to the sun setting. Pink, yellow, orange, all mixing together and fighting to be seen by the people below, eclipsed by white clouds pulled thin like cotton candy. That's what she reminded him of. Most other girls that he had met were like the sun after a storm, trying to break through the dark clouds like the last shred of hope that light still existed, only to hide away when the storm had passed. But she wasn't like most other girls.
He met her by accident. Or an accident, rather. He had t-boned her pulling out of a gas station. She wasn't hurt, but the back end of her car had a small dent in it. Since he was 19, he couldn't afford insurance, so he didn't have any. She looked in her mid-twenties, and for whatever reason, she didn't have insurance either.
"Tell you what," she told him, "we go for drinks, and I'll get the damage fixed myself. No insurance companies involved."
"Alright," he agreed, "tonight?"
"Sure," she replied.
"Is 5 okay?"
"Perfect." She responded.
"Okay," he smiled, "I guess...I guess I'll pick you up, since your car is..."
He motioned with his eyebrows to the damage above her right rear tire.
"Well," she laughed, "I guess you'll need my address." She scribbled on the back of a 25 dollar gift card to Ruby Tuesday and handed it to him. "Sorry," she apologized, "I didn't plan on giving my address to a cute stranger who rear ended me."
He took the gift card and stuffed it in the back pocket of his jeans.
"I'm Julie, by the way," she smiled, looking down at her shoes, then back up at him. "Julie Thompson."

"Cosmo," she told the bartender behind the counter.
It was 5:12, and they had just gotten to the bar.
"Dr. Pepper for me," he told the woman when she brought back the cranberry juice concoction.
"Dr. Pepper?" Julie asked. "We're at a bar."
"And I'm 19," he replied, "and don't wanna get booted out of the house. It's my first accident, I don't wanna be drinking, too."
"19, wow," she sipped at her drink, "I'm impressed. My first was at the age of about 16, when I ran off the road into a ditch. I'm 22 now, so I've learned my lesson many times over." Julie looked up into his eyes, almost like she was studying him. "I'm sorry," she added, "I didn't get your name."
"Rome," he said, "Rome DeLoupe."
"Rome, like the country?" Julie asked. Rome nodded. Julie smiled.
"My parents were big fans of Italy," he elaborated, "and they couldn't exactly name me that."
"Well, Rome," Julie sighed, "I like it."