Sketch - A Love Story

5 - [Dom] Her

Her

I'm walking home. Everyone else takes the bus: they all go to the High Street and buy a box of chips for £1.49 or whatever it is that fuels them and their crazy antics after school. It always seems to me that the more food you buy, the more popular you are. I'm pretty sure it's something to do with the free food you get for hanging out with them, but I don't see the point. Why share food? It's my food. Get your own food. Jeez.

I'm busy thinking about food when I start walking back down the final stretch past the cornershop. But it's when I turn the corner that I stop.

There's a girl I don't recognise standing by the side of the road.

She's got semi-long, dark hair that's all wavy at the ends. I can't see her face, but - and I'm not a liar - I see her curves and I instantly know she's probably pretty. She isn't in uniform, which is strange. Cars fly down the road in front of her, off to pick up their kids in the 3:30pm rush.

Then, everything happens so fast.

She steps out into the road, as if crossing. But instead of hastily getting to the other side, she stops.

Right in the middle of the road.

I stare as headlights silhouette her body, and I instinctively race towards her.

I act before my brain lets me think.

I grab her arm and drag her back against me, the ignorant driver screaming past. She cries out in shock, and I startle at hearing her voice.

And then it's quiet.

It was just a few seconds, no more. All I can hear are my panting breaths and thudding heart. I let go of the girl and she turns to stare at me.

And holy, holy shit.

She's gorgeous.

Her eyes are earthy-brown, and they shine in the afternoon light. Her skin is slightly tanned and seems to glow, and as I look again at her eyes I see she's staring at me– in wonder or horror, I can't tell. Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I grit my teeth, and words I don't mean start pouring out.

"What the hell was that!? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

She gives me a defiant stare, but her eyes are rimmed with tears. "Maybe I was."

And with that, she's running.

But as I look at the floor and turn away to walk home, already desperately trying to forget her, I see a bus pass on the floor. I quickly pick it up to see the picture.

It's a young girl. She's got her hair in twin plaits, and she's half-smiling, but it's no mistaking it's the same girl I just saved.

Speaking of saved, a thank-you might have been nice.

But then I look at the pass again.

B U S    P A S S
EXPIRATION DATE: XX . XX . XX
HOLDER: Tess Renner