5 Minute Reads | Anthology

Jeans Jacket by xPureChances

Part 1.

Ellie.

  Standing beneath an illuminate lamppost, I couldn't help but notice the small circle it only provided light for. It was as if the lamppost chose a selective part of the street; more like its inner circle. The exact same thing happened at school. I let out a small scoff at the poor metaphorical expression. It sounded far too diabolical for me. 

 It was fairly quiet at this part of the city and that is why I chose to come here. It was all spontaneous on my part and I loved every second of it. It wasn't cold, nor was it hot enough to leave the house without a jacket.

There was a rock. Right beneath my expensive loafers. I had a moment where I was having a stare off... with a rock. Shall I kick you? I asked it, my eyes scrunching up in the corners as I waited for the non-existent reply.

Then I threw my head back, laughing at my dense idiotic moment.

My head raced back to my really idiotic moment and I lifted up my left wrist, my eyes catching the time instantly. A few minutes before midnight. I was meant to be in bed. At home. Not outside, far away from home. My father will kill me...

But did I care?

No.

I smiled and started dancing on my feet, the rebellious feeling filling me up with blazing energy. But I couldn't ignore my heart that was hammering loudly behind my ribs, waiting for the moment I would get caught. What should I do when I get caught? I had to get back.

I was far too engrossed in the hard debate going on in my head that I didn't hear the sound of someone approaching. Nor did I hear them coming to stand right next to me, until they tapped me on the shoulder.

I let out a small scream, jumping back whilst throwing my hands out in every direction. "AHH!"

"Yo, calm down." The voice grumbled, not sounding impressed at all. I stopped screaming and throwing my hands in every direction possible and looked at my newcomer.

It was a boy, probably a year or two older than me. He was wearing a low-cut vest and I could see all the tattoos swirling around his front chest. My gaze dropped to his fingers and I saw another set of tattoos. It was like my eyes were attracted to every tattoo because everywhere they landed, there was a set of tattoos coating the skin. Until my eyes travelled back to his face. He had dark hair falling into his bright blue eyes and he was scowling at me. Bad. Very bad.

"Err..." I said but nothing came after that. I crossed my hands across my chest, cocooning myself in a protective stance. He looked intimidating and very scary when he was scowling at me. And he still was! I frowned at him, wondering what his problem was. But I didn't dare voice that out loud.

"Are you going to stand there and stare at me?" He sneered and I nearly fell backwards."Err..."

"Can't speak?" He asked, sarcasm lacing thickly in his voice. He was looking at me like I was the real bother in his life and I was appalled by his abash, rude behaviour. You just don't speak like that to someone you don't even know. But again, I didn't dare voice that.

"Right, I'm with a girl that can't speak and stares at a rock and then randomly starts laughing. Great, a fucking lunatic." I watched him run his hands through his hair roughly, ending it with random ends standing up in every direction. It was messy but I couldn't help appreciate how naturally flawless it looked. When he had his arms on his head, the sleeves of his jacket rode up and the rest of his tattoos caught my attention immediately.

"Don't swear." I surprised us both by sounding a) like a freaking kid with my squeaky voice and b) for actually speaking.

The boy looked at me with unamused eyes before scoffing. "It's my language love, I can't be culturally deprived now can I?" I could hear, no, feel the underlined meaning behind that but I decided to ignore it.

I kept looking at him, the boy who was very rude to me and called me a lunatic. I wasn't a lunatic. I was just having fun by myself.

"You can leave now..." The boy urged on impatiently. My mouth dropped open at the audacious way he spoke. To a stranger as well. I knew I had to go. Staying standing here was not a good idea and I could see him waiting for me to leave. Without uttering a word, I turned on my heel and stalked away from him.

Rude boy, absolutely rude! All sorts of profanities swam in my head, cursing that rude boy. I was merely minding my own business and he came out of nowhere to call me out on them? Rude boy. It was a street for goodness sake! How could he order me to leave a street, really?

So what if I was talking to a rock? So what if I laughed? I was annoyed, annoyed to find restrictions even beyond the walls of my constricted house. My family could control me and tell me what to do because they always knew best. Needless to say, having a complete stranger with inked neck and fingers and arms had no right to call me out on my behaviour. That was morally wrong!

Still fuming with rage, I rounded the corner of the dark empty streets. The lamppost were still providing a clear light so it wasn't like I was looking straight into a great abyss. I spotted a vacant bench right beneath another lamppost and I started to make my way to it. Stomping my way over more likely.

As soon as I landed my butt cheeks firmly on the bench, I heard his voice come from right above me. My heart jumped six feet in the air and dropped back on the floor. "That's my bench. Go find your own bench you greedy bitch." I threw my head up, my jaw close to hitting the floor. No way did he just call me greedy and followed it up with bitch. No, my ears were deceiving me.

But with the way he was standing, arms crossed and eyes narrowed down on my face, I just knew he called me a greedy bitch.

A greedy bitch? Does he even know me to call me that? Gah.

"You are such a rude person!" I blurted out, standing up as soon as the boy sat down. He let out an empty laugh, not bothered at all by his offensive words.

"Nothing new there sweetheart."

"Don't call me that." I fired back, standing a good feet away from him for both his and mine safety. For the first time in my entire life, I felt this sudden urge to inflict harm on someone. But I had the odd sense that he wanted to do something equally bad to me as well. So I stayed the hell away from him.

"It's one minute past midnight sweetheart, a girl like you should be at home and not prancing around on an empty street like easy bait."

Did he just call me easy bait?

My eyes widened as I saw him getting comfortable, crossing one leg over his knee. He draped one arm around the back of the bench and he casually threw his head back, exposing all the tattoos following his throat. The light directly shown in his face and I made note of the paleness of his skin, the odd jutting's of his jaw line and cheek bones. And then I noticed that he was considerably slim for a guy that surely looked like he could scare a whole police squad with just one look.

"Well this is fucking ruining my night already." I heard him mutter before he let out deep, annoyed sigh. "Well you can sit down. I can't be bothered walking you home right now."

I wanted to tell him that I did nothing to ruin his night. I wanted to tell him he didn't even know me for him to be calling me easy bait - I could be hiding some moves under my jacket for all he knew. I wanted to tell him I wasn't his sweetheart. I wanted to tell him I didn't expect him to take me home and I wasn't going to let him anyhow.

I wanted to tell him I wasn't going to sit down at all but a few seconds later I found myself, one minute after midnight sitting down on the bench, ten inches between myself and a very rude boy coated with tattoos.

"Do you want to tell me why you're out so late Ellie?"

Now how the flowers does he know my name.