My British Bear

Chapter 1

I gingerly pressed the pad of my thumb against the dark, brown bruise on my cheek. The prodding caused me to wince and breathe in sharply. It hurt.

I turned on the faucet and cupped my hands. After splashing the cold water on my face, I opened up the medicine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of foundation. I squeezed a glob out and then rubbed it onto the bruise, making it disappear. Glancing down at my watch, I noticed the time was 6:13 a.m. Twenty minutes before the bus got to my house.

I slipped silently back into my room and dressed in a pair of torn jeans, black boots, and a purple long sleeved shirt that were lying on the chair beside my bed. I had no other makeup save the abuse-concealing foundation, nor jewelry. After braiding my brown hair and tying it off with a ponytail holder, I glanced at the mirror of my vanity to make sure it looked fine.

Making my way downstairs on light feet, trying not to let the floorboards creak, I stepped into the dark kitchen. I poured myself some cheerios and milk and settled down at the table to eat. Glancing out the window at the falling snow I quickly devoured my cereal.

The bus slowly pulled to the end of the driveway, its yellow headlights cutting through the darkness and snowflakes in twin beams. I snatched up my backpack and scurried out.

It was pitch black outside, and as my running feet hit the ground I slipped on a patch of ice and fell. I managed to get up and dash to the bus just before the driver closed the doors, then found a seat in the back, nursing my newly aching elbow. The bus driver had almost pulled away without me. Again.

Typical.

School went by uneventfully, thank goodness. I was so glad it was Monday. It meant that I would have another week spent mostly away from home.

My breath billowed in a white fog around my face as I made my way down the icy sidewalk to my favorite hang out. Sweet Beans and Bakes was homey, warm, and full of friendly people. And food. And it smelled good.

I couldn't wait to get there! I stumbled around the small chunks of ice on the cobblestone. With carefully placed steps I tried to avoid stepping on anything that would lead to a sudden and painful death (i.e. ice or frozen snow). I hate snow, I thought bitterly. I glanced up and misstepped-- right off the curb.

I yelped as I started to fall to the road, the frozen, black stone flying up at me with startling speed and fierceness. Suddenly, strong hands wrapped around my arms and jerked me back just before I hit the road.

"Woah!" A young, warm, British accent exclaimed, catching me off guard. "A'e you okay, Miss?"

I shook my head to clear it and blinked. "I-I think so..." I moaned, putting a hand to my temple.

I glanced up at my hero. He had thick, brown curls and brilliant blue eyes. "You sure?" he asked again, pushing his black glasses back up the bridge of his ridiculously freckled nose. "It was my fault I--"

"I slipped on the ice," I muttered, looking away.

"O-oh. Well, good thing you didn't fall. The road is a nasty place to be."

I found it funny he didn't credit himself for saving me. "Well," I started to brush my pants off, "I'm all good now. Thank you." I was always awkward talking to people. He shifted from one foot to the other, messing with his glasses. "Can I help you?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound mean.

He nodded. "I left my watch at home. Could ya tell me the time, Miss?"

I glanced down at my own watch. "It's three 'til four."

"Oi! I'm late!" The boy dashed off in the direction I was headed.

I shook my head, chuckling softly. "People."

As I entered the coffee shop, a soft bell twinkled. I walked over to the empty coffee bar and slid into one of the booths in the corner. I was freezing from the walk, and hot cocoa sounded wonderful.

A tall woman noticed me. "Brooks'll help ya."

I nodded, and twiddled my thumbs. Brooks is a nice name. I glanced up at the TV, which was broadcasting a news report, then back at my menu.

"'Ello," A familiar voice greeted. "What would ya like?"

I looked up and gasped, "You!"

He had the same reaction, his eyes going wide as he nearly dropped his little notepad. "Miss!" he composed himself, pushing his glasses back up his nose, then grinned brightly. "What would you like, Miss?"

"My name is Maria," I informed, then wondered why I cared that much. "May I have hot cocoa, please?"

"Sure!" he turned and trotted off whispering, 'What a pretty name' under his breath. He returned a bit later with a bottle of whipped cream and a tall, steaming mug of cocoa. He set them both down, looking a little sheepish.

I glanced at the cream-less hot cocoa. "Not on the cocoa?" I teased.

"I-I didn't know how much you liked!" He turned red with embarrassment.

Okay, that didn't work. I frowned a little, wincing on the inside. Once again I had screwed up trying to be funny. "I was kidding. Sorry. Thank you." I squeezed a little whipped cream onto my finger and licked it off. He stood there in awkward silence for a second. "Your name's Brooks, right?"

"Yes, Miss." He shuffled his feet bashfully.

"I like it." I smiled.

His freckled cheeks colored. "Th-thanks."

Well, that's an improvement. I squeezed an unholy amount of whipped cream onto my cocoa, then glanced around. "Don't tell anybody," I whispered. I opened my mouth and sprayed it full of the yummy topping. He stared at me with wide eyes, then put a hand to his mouth to muffle his giggling. I swallowed it and took a drink of cocoa. He started laughing harder, this time unable to cap it. "What?" I said with a pretend scowl, crossing my arms.

He grabbed a napkin and wiped off my top lip, which I knew had cocoa on it. The contact sent little sparks under my skin, momentarily distracting me. "No!" I squealed, causing him to drop the napkin in surprise. "My beautiful mustache!"

He stared for a moment, then began to laugh hysterically. I smiled and laughed along with him, feeling good for the first time in a while. When he finally caught his breath he gasped, "You're really funny!"

I felt my cheeks heat up. "I didn't think I was all that..."

He beamed a grin of beautiful, white teeth. "You are!" I smiled back, my chest tightening a little. If only everyone thought that... I took another drink of cocoa, my mood dulled. "Miss Maria? Are you alright?" he asked, tilting his head in concern.

I looked up, trying to fight the memories as tears built up behind my eyes. "Y-yeah." I rubbed my eyes and forced a small smile. "I'm just fine."

He didn't seem convinced. "Okay..."

I glanced at my watch. Nearly five. I chugged my hot cocoa, then stood up abruptly. "Look, I've gotta go. Maybe I'll see you again. You're nice," I said blurted, hurrying to the fogged-up glass doors. "Bye, Brooks." I waved as I stepped out into the biting cold.

"Bye!" he called back faintly, waving and looking a little confused.

I turned my head away and stared at the sidewalk as tears began to freeze to my flushed cheeks. I ran as fast as I could to my house. Home sweet home.