Where We Should Be

Chapter 14

Zoe's P.O.V
I sit up and stare at the clock. I listen... Tick tock, tick tock ... It's 1am and I can't sleep. My mind keeps wandering and each time it wanders, it finds it way back to this afternoon, when I crashed into that boy. That boy with the dark hair and the chocolate eyes and bushy eyebrows. He probably thinks I'm an idiot and my mum hasn't stopped giving me weird looks since.

"What is the matter with you, stop that!" I had snapped at her while waiting to pay for my sixth form stuff at New Look, still feeling flushed and embarrassed. "You!" she'd giggled. I rolled my eyes and carried on trying to ignore her.

I find it funny how actors can spend whole seasons kissing each other and not develop feelings but a guy helps me up and it's all I can think about for the rest of the day. Maybe it's my lack of male attention and as soon as I get a taste (if you can even call it that) I go crazy. Like us British people when the sun comes out... I laugh to myself. It's the only noise in the house. Dad's doing his night shift. Mum and my sister are both asleep.

My mind wanders back to the mystery boy again. Who is he? I shake my head - I need to stop this. It's extremely unlikely that I'll ever see him again. Trust me to start obsessing over a guy I'll probably only meet once. I think of the way I was about to tell mum her hands were rough, and the way all my words got stuck in my throat when he spoke to me. Oh god, how embarrassing! I snuggle right down into my duvet, feeling my checks go red just from thinking about it. I close my eyes. Even if we did meet again he probably wouldn't like....

***
BEEP! BEEP! BUZ! My phone vibrates violently from under my pillow and beeps way too loudly for my liking. Maybe Ariana is calling me and mum's let me sleep in. I begin to smile but quickly recognise it as my alarm. I sit right up and fumble around to turn it off. Wait, it's 6:30 AM?! It's the first Monday of summer, why is my alarm going off? I roll my eyes as I realise I must've forgotten to turn of my weekday alarms for school. I don't even remember falling asleep; all I remember is thinking about the mystery boy at like 1am.

Normally I'd fall back asleep but the shock of alarm has got me wide awake so I decide to trudge downstairs and make some hot chocolate the way I usually make it for Ariana. "Hi Alfie!" I squeal in my high-pitched voice I put on automatically when I talk to animals. Is it just me who does that? Surely not.

As I settle down on the sofa with my drink, I wonder how Ariana is doing... What is New York like? What is her house like? Has she already started to forget me...? I haven't heard from her at all, no one has. I guess she's been really busy, I don't know what I was expecting and it's only been one weekend. I want to tell her about the mystery boy and about Alfie's new, weird haircut. I just want to talk to her, to be honest, like we always do - about everything, anything and often about nothing. I remember that dream she had... About me forgetting her. Well, it's only been two days, I know, but I'm beginning to wonder whether it's going to be the other way around.

I hear the stairs moaning and look over at my mum in her dressing gown, slippers and hair rollers. Giggling at the comical sight of her, I ask, "Morning mum, do we have any plans for the day?". I finished the book Ariana got my for my birthday last night while I couldn't sleep, and I love reading so I need to go to the library to find a new one today if I can. "No, you're free to do whatever as long as you stop laughing at me," she replies, chuckling herself now, "going anywhere?"
"Just to the library to find a new book."
"Sounds good. Make sure you have breakfast first."
"Yep."

***

As I walk in to the library in town, I'm hit by the familiar smell of books; I love that smell. Apparently there's a perfume in that scent... I'm going to try find that, actually.

Alright, I'm here for a good book or two to pass some time during the next 6 weeks where I can't see Ariana. After that, I expect I'll be too busy to busy to miss her that much. I hope I will be.

I like the teen fiction section of this library. Me and Ariana used to sit on the floor by the window with some snacks when we got tired of shopping and people watch.. Or more specifically 'hot boy watch'. I smile to myself at the memories.

Ow!! "Ouch" I mutter as I bump heads with someone. Well, my head bumps into their chin. As I look up, my heart begins to race and I feel my palms get sweaty. Bushy eyebrows.. Chocolatey brown eyes... Mystery boy. For gods sake! There's no way I've just done this again. Please tell me this is a dream.
"Sor-" he begins, "oh, it's you," he smiles. He has a welsh accent.. I love their accent so, so much! I never noticed it before. Why is he smiling? He can't be happy to see me after I walked straight into him... Twice. I can't believe he even remembers me.

Words get stuck in my throat and there's an awkward silence until I find my words again, "Hi, I'm sorry, I swear I do look wear I'm going sometimes" I chuckle, going red. He laughs, "If you say so.." He pauses. "Zoe." I help him, smiling.
"Zoe." He finishes his sentence, "I'm Luke. So I'm guessing you're from around here then?"
"Yeah, Erith. It's a town not far from here" I reply, watching a ridiculously cute grin creep onto his face. I bite my lip as I wonder what's so funny. "Yeah, I know where Erith is. I'm from Bexleyheath, I just moved to a house a short walk away from here last week." What.
"What?"
"It's opposite a school. My new school."
What! Ariana's house... My school... No way. "Oh cool! I went there, I'm staying on for sixth form."
"Year 12?"
"Yup."
"Me too"
I grin, "That's a crazy coincidence.. wow"
"Well at least I've met someone now. Or I won't know anybody. I moved from Wales"
I laugh, looking at the floor, "yeah I guessed"
"Oh haha" his smile widens even more, "Hey," he says, making me look into those beautiful eyes again,"want to grab a coffee or something at Starbucks?"
Oh my god. The book can wait. "Sure"

And as we walk out the library, I bump into the bookshelf.