The Hipsters

Tate.

"Happy Friday."

My mom smiled at me, then quickly dropped it from her lips. "Serves me right for neglecting my only kid."

My head jerked up at this comment. "No. No, it doesn't.", I countered, coming over to sit on the bed.

"I...jumped so fast into all of this, I didn't think about you, or anyone else. We met 3 months ago. I know people at work who've been dating the same guy for years! Why did I, honestly, think that I had a chance with anyone anymore? After your father died...I just wanted someone to talk to. And then along came Adam and we just...clicked.

"You know, I wasn't even sure I want to get married ever again. But he asked in front of everyone, and I couldn't say no. After a week though, I was excited. I was going to be someone's wife again. I had a chance to do marriage differently this time. Then this happens. Maybe, I brought it on myself. Maybe, when I wished that he would be perfect, plus get along with you, I was setting myself up for disaster."

I squeezed her hand supportively, my heart hurting again. Nothing feels as it should anymore. Nothing seems like...what it used to be. I thought Adam and my mother loved each other, but it turned out that he was pretending for the sake of her feelings, and she was just lonely and needed someone. I thought Hazel and I were best friends, but she just ended up breaking my heart. I thought Silas and I were perfect in our own way, but that image crumbled as soon as I opened that door. Everything had pretty much changed in a matter of weeks.

+ + + +

I stared at the clusters of people strolling past me on the sidewalk. They all gave off the impression that they were all fine. Their lives were figured out. They weren't broken by some unfortunate news from their significant other.

How come the most optimistic ones always get disappointed the most? Why can't anything ever work out the way it's supposed to?

"Excuse moi, parlez-vous français?", a boy who looked my age asked me. His accent didn't sound like he was French.

"Oui, mais je parle mieux l'anglais. Who are you?", I replied.

He pulled back the seat in front of me and sat down. "I'm Alexander.", he grinned. His eyes crinkled when he grinned. He was unbelievably attractive.

"Your accent sounds like you're not from here. I'm Beatrix.", I said.

"So does yours. I'm Australian."

"Oh. I'm American, but that's way more boring than being Australian.", I said. I realized I should be rejoicing.

What are the odds of meeting an impossibly handsome teenage boy with an accent, whilst in a confusing relationship with my ex, another beautiful teenage boy with an accent?

But I can't. I'm not in the mood for love. I just wanted to be sad right now.

"Anyway, I came over here because I was hoping you could tell me where Laduree is. I'm picking up a box of macarons for my...hold on. Sorry, I have to take this.", he stopped abruptly, and answered a ringing cell phone. He quickly smiled.

His what? Girlfriend? Fiancee? Wife? God, what is wrong with me? Why am I so concerned with his life? I really need to stop being around guys so much. They're ruining my life.

"Sorry about that. My brother. Anyway, I have to pick up a box of macarons for my sister's birthday today. Do you know where it is?", he asked. Honestly, I didn't feel like leaving my seat. But I needed air. And some sugar wouldn't hurt.

"Of course I do.", I lied.

+ + +

"Uh, Beatrix? Are you sure it's down this road?", he asked. I turned to face him, and nodded.