When Marilyn Thornes family becomes bankrupt, she is sent to live in the concrete jungle that is called New York City. Living with her eccentric aunt whilst her family is desperately getting back on their feet, Marilyn has never felt more alone with...
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"Of course I'm willing to share", I grinned back " this is public property after all, however seeing as you're rather easy on the eyes I might get distracted..." of course I had to try and flirt. The guy was too perfect to be real!
He seemed to take this as a yes, a light blush beginning to evaporate from his cheeks as he pulled out a laptop and headphones. I watched from my peripheral vision as he placed his headphones upon that luscious hair and began to open up files on his laptop.
Well, I did warn him. I was easily distracted.
He appeared engrossed in his laptop- so hunching closer to my notepad, I resumed my frantic scribbling. I had an awesome story idea that I was desperate to think through, I was a huge fan of young adult books and writing my own stories based on real life appealed to me. The story evolved around a blind girl immersed in a world of things she couldn't fully experience. I wanted my story to be heart warming and up lifting, yet with the right amount of serious and troubling moments.
I always was overly ambitious with my writing ideas and I always hoped one of these ideas would eventually lead to something. I was just waiting for my big break. My huge, enrapturing idea. This one stirred hope inside me and it radiated from my fingertips and through the blue biro pen.
Until a light pat on my arm awoke my senses. He was there, in front of me. His eyes gleamed with amusement- the only indication he wasn't as bored and annoyed as his demeanour insinuated. " I wasn't aware of how entirely oblivious one could be" he spoke; his words were wise but his tone playful. I couldn't fight off the aura of detachment he seemed to embody, however. I was weirdly concerned.
"Sorry, when I get an idea all coherency flies out the window and I'm in writers land" I explained. He nodded, a dimple forming. Of course the boy had dimples.
"I understand," he said." When I get a writing idea I feel the exact same. It's like everything freezes over and I'm so urgent to just write down whatever bright idea I have, even though they end up flopping in the end." "You write too?" I ask- god damnit could this boy not be more perfect. I can't cope with these feelings, feelings I should not be feeling.
I should of walked away right then and there. He had me hooked and I was slipping slowly in to the water- it was comforting and oh so smooth. "Yeah, though not stories like you I gather?" I nod. "What do you write?" "Music", he responded. I was suffocating in the coffee swirls of his eyes and the closeness of his lips.
Feminist Marilyn, who had morals and knew what she was dabbling in, was slowly morphing in to puppy Marilyn. Oh hell no. But I couldn't just walk away. Friends. It's okay if we became friends. Platonic relationships are cool and seeing as jasmine couldn't care less, I'll need some help.
"Woah, you must have serious talent- are you mixing some beats right now?" I was intrigued to say the least and he seemed interested in me. Although, who was this guy? Shouldn't he be chatting up artificial flavouring (we all know those girls) or hanging with his player best friends and guessing girls bra cups?
" yeah I am, it's just an idea I had and wanted to try out, you can listen if you want" he placed the headphones in my hands and I gingerly put them on.
What followed was a series of guitar notes and a crescendo of beats. Everything complimented each other and slotted together. It was a puzzle of music. Then I heard a voice, smooth like chocolate and so insanely good. It could only belong to chocolate boy beside me.
When it was over, I opened my eyes that I wasn't aware had closed and sat up from where I had leaned against the wall.
He peeked out at me from long lashes, his hands nervously clasped together. "Did you like it? I never really share my music so hearing your opinion is pretty significant to my life." We both laugh and I'm touched how I, a stranger to him, made him want to share his music.
" I'm honestly shocked, I like how it starts of happy and gradually decreases to something resembling melancholy yet it holds hope and integrity. You really captured some feelings."
His eyes scream thank you and he takes back his headphones. Suddenly the mask is dropped- and I see a boy who is insecure yet relieved and happy. The aura of detachment had dissipated and he appears jubilant.
" Thank you, I can totally see how you're a writer, I'm thoroughly grateful"
" oh don't worry, Im always happy to lend an ear to your masterpieces" He seems so shocked and touched and disbelieving, my heart goes out to this dear soul who has no inkling of how talented he is.
"What was it you wanted me for anyway?" The boy did wake me up from my alternate universe of fiction. " I guess I kind of wanted a conversation, and I sort of saw what you were writing and figured you would be interesting and worthwhile. I'm Grayson Lavandale but everyone calls me Gray." I wonder who everyone applied to, seeing as he was on his own and didn't seem to ever of been flattered. "Marilyn Thorne" I answered.
"Well, Marilyn, seeing as I shared my music with you the least you could do is share your phone number with me." Okay now I was obliterated. The guy was a smooth talker as well as a humble, aesthetically pleasing rock star.
" I wasn't aware that was my part of the bargain, yet maybe I'm quite interested in the idea of giving out my phone number to cute guys with hidden talents and secluded spots in the library."
" What can I say? I enjoy wallowing in my peace yet I'm partial to pretty girls." He called me pretty. Well time to take control of the situation. " I'll have you know my brain is bigger than my bra cup so let's not negotiate on physical appearances" That should do it. He looked at me with amusement and laughed. I smiled sweetly and slipped my hand in his jean pocket which contained his phone. Damn, I was good.
" You wanted my number?" I ask as he takes the phone and types in his password. He's still smiling however but watching me closely, analysing me.
" You're new here" he states as I hand him his phone that now contains my number.
"Yup, just transferred from San Diego" "Wow, that's half a world away" he jokes."what brings you here?" "Parents work, you know, I'm no convict whose been given a false identity to start over with" "Ah, well now I'm curious" His dimples make an appearance, curse you god for creating such a being. The school bell rings for next period and, upon discovering we have quite a few classes together, we head to next lesson.
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Gray and Marilyn certainly seem attracted to each others, much to Marilyn's delight. Her conscience doesn't much like the idea of Marilyn and Gray though. Which will she let take control: her heart or her brain? :) xoxo
