Corrupted

Chapter 2

"Thalia?"

"Thalia, honey?"

"Thalia!" I heard my mother say urgently as I jerked into an upright position, making my heart beat 100 times a minute. "We're leaving now. I organized for you to meet with Niall at the coffee shop on Main Street at 10:30."

What?

"I gave him your number in case he can't find you. Have a good day sweetie." She kissed me on the head and left before I could process what just happened. I hate when they wake me up at 5AM every Saturday morning just to tell me they're leaving for the day- I know they won't be home. They've been doing it since I was 12.

Groaning, I flopped down on my bed, and buried my body under the multiple layers of warm sheets, hoping I could get another hour or two of sleep in before I had to get up and meet Niall.

Tossing and turning, I wondered about what he's like. Does he have brown hair? Black hair? Green eyes? Blue eyes? Tall or short? Is he intelligent? Is he better at math or English? Does he prefer handwriting or printing? My curiosity began to get the best of me and I decided to get up and get ready, despite the early morning grogginess consuming my body. After my refreshing shower, I put dressing in a black, box pleated knee length skirt, a white tank top, and a light denim jacket, with a maroon pearl necklace and earrings of the same color. By about 8AM I was ready- makeup, hair and all. My hair was elegantly curled and pulled back into a loose ponytail, my makeup was applied perfectly, and my clothes were fresh and wrinkle-free. I had made a fried egg sandwich with a slice of cheese, and ketchup for breakfast, and now it was time to wait.

I was somewhat annoyed that my parents made plans for me on the only day I can relax and enjoy being by myself, but at the same time, I was glad all of my assumptions about Niall would be confirmed or denied. I picture him with dark brown hair and brown eyes, and medium hight, around 5'9, but I know that's probably not what he really looks like. He could be blonde with green eyes and he could be really tall. I'll just have to wait.

I left around 9:45, deciding to walk to the coffee shop instead. It's nice to walk. You get to breathe the fresh air, feel the cool wind brushing against your skin, and hear the trees dancing with the wind. The crunch of the crisp, colourful leaves under my sandals keeps me company. Nature gives me peace; it reminds me that there's more to life than we think. The small problems that we think are so great, really aren't. Will it matter a week from now? A month from now, a year from now? Probably not. We need to think bigger.

I arrive at the coffee shop around 10:20 and find a seat near the front so I can be seen well. I made sure my hair and makeup looked okay and sipped at my black coffee, impatiently waiting for the strange boy to show up.

It was 10:35, and he still wasn't here. I found myself daydreaming about what he was like, and what would happen when I met him. I was dreaming of a clean cut, tall blonde with green eyes. He shook my hand and sat down with me, and told me about himself, and why he moved here, to a small, boring, foggy town on the east coast of Canada, from the beautiful, and cultural Ireland. In my mind, we stayed in our seats for hours, getting up a few times for more coffee. The heavenly ending where he'd ask to see me again and give me his number was rudely interrupted by my phone buzzing with a text from my mother, asking me how everything is going. I checked the time, and it was 10:56. He's late. I was disappointed. Meeting up with a boy isn't a common thing for me, so when my father told me he had set up a little "date" so I can introduce myself, I was ecstatic. I even tried to make myself look cute. I told my mother he wasn't here yet and I was going back home, then got another coffee before embarking on my short, but nature filled walk back home.

Once I got home, I took my bouncy curls out of my pony tail, and removed the uncomfortable, deep red sandals I wore with my outfit, and tossed them in the closet. I sighed and headed off to my room to change. I removed my bright red jewelry and shimmied my skirt off, and replaced it with a pair of fleece-lined leggings. As I pulled my hair up into a messy ponytail, I grabbed my purse, a fuzzy blanket and a pillow, then headed to the deck, walking to the back section. The whole deck was made of glass and steel with heated tile on top, and it wrapped around the whole house. There are four entrances to the deck, one from my room on left, one from the guest room on the right, another from one end of the hallway, and the last from the opposite end. The back deck has always been my comfort place. A swinging bench, two hammocks and a few lawn chairs are spread out along the wall, so you can take in the view of the shining river and deep green trees in the summer, and the snow covered trees and smooth ice over the water during the winter. In our back yard, there is a small brook that flows down to the river, and it makes a quiet, yet soothing noise if you listen well enough. My favourite hammock is nestled in the corner, and from there I have a perfect view of the river through the glass. It's calming. In the corner opposite of the door, there's is a small, steel patio table, a few potted plants surround it.

Tossing the pillow on the hammock, I wrapped the blanket around my body and flopped down on the hammock, curling my knees up to my chest and tucking the black and white blanket under my chin. I stared through the glass at the moving water in the river, and listened to the water from the brook flow over the smooth rocks piled in its way.

I was excited about meeting Niall. I didn't have any other males in my life other than my father and my cousin, Terry, but he moved to Brazil with his Brazilian girlfriend when I was 5 or 6 years old. My father forbids me from having male friends because teenager boys are the "worst of the the sinners," I don't agree with. Some are, but not every male between the ages of 14 and 19 are terrible. In fact, a lot are actually quite nice. Harry Styles, for example, was one of the kindest, most belenovent people I know. He volunteers at day camps in the summer, and has a part time job at a homeless shelter during the school year. On top of that, he is quite handsome. He's tall with lean muscles, and has many tattoos covering his arms and chest. He has deep green eyes, a charming smile and curly brown hair. He wears glasses with thick, black frames, and always wears a beanie. His voice is deep, soft and sweet. like warm caramel, and he tells the most ridiculously terrible jokes, and it makes you smile and shake your head head when he nearly passes out from laughing so hard. It's a shame he doesn't have many friends. I used to tutor him in math, until my father made me tell him I didn't have enough time to continue tutoring. I could tell by his expression that he was disappointed. It killed me.

If my father didn't want me to speak with Harry anymore, I wonder why he wants me to meet Niall, who is apparently a "trouble maker," so to speak.

Sighing, I sat up and reached for my purse, pulling a bottle of Advil out and taking a few. I wa getting a headache. As I dry swallow the two pills, I felt my phone vibrate under me, and I looked at the notification. It was a text from an unknown number.

thalia? its niall