A Certain Not-So-Bad Boy

{eleven}

"Hey, Angel. Long time no see."

I turned around from the cabinets I was wiping down with a smile. "Hey."

I don't know why, but after today's events, I'd been smiling more, especially at Carson's antics. It was as if I was seeing something in a different way.

"You want me to take over?" he asked.

Again, I smiled. I was liking this new side of Carson. "Sure. I'll be back in a bit." I threw away the paper towels I was using and went up to my room. I picked out a pair of my black sweatpants and an old blue shirt, taking it to the bathroom.

After my shower, I put my hair in my towel and twisted it up to look like a giant turban. I slid into my clean clothes before walking down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Carson was sitting at the counter, typing away at his phone with his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"What's up?" I asked cautiously.

Carson looked up, slightly startled. "Oh, well... Grayson started his chemotherapy program today."

I felt my heart drop. "Oh. Is he doing okay?"

Carson cleared his throat. "Yeah, he's being really optimistic about it. The doctor said he should be okay since we were able to catch it kind of early on."

"I'm glad to hear that," I said honestly. Grayson was just one of those people that brightened the room with his good nature and humor.

Carson's phone buzzed and he scowled at it before typing at it furiously. After a moment he said, "I'm sorry, I have to go."

Strangely, I had fun with him. I was a little disappointed he had to leave. Whatever, I'll be fine. "Sure, everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine." He smiled a gorgeous smile, but I noticed it didn't quite reach his eyes. "How about I make it up to you; meet me outside the art museum tomorrow at noon."

I shrugged. "It's really not a--"

"Please. Let me do something." He really wanted to meet up, but the most frustrating part was I didn't know why.

His darn eyes. They were stormy blue and a little green, with hints of grayish flecks around the outside that I'd never noticed before. He's so lucky.

"Maya? You there?" he asked waving a hand in my face.

I flushed at his widening smirk. "Noon, art museum, I'll be there."

"Good. I'll see you then. Bye Angel."

"Bye, dork. Don't miss me too much."

He laughed, his face lighting up this time. "How can I not?" He winked, before vanishing behind the door.

I rolled my eyes (fondly) and went to my room. Once in the confines of my familiar walls, I flopped backward onto my fluffy duvet and thought. Mostly about Carson.

His soft, light brown hair. The soft contours of his face. His curved lips. But most of all his forest green eyes, surrounded by stormy gray. He was a bit mysterious but he was fun once he accepted you. But he was someone who I could tell had gone through a lot; more than anyone should. And he found it hard to let anyone in. Tomorrow. Noon, art museum.

* * * * * *

I pulled on a thin cream colored shirt after my black ripped skinny jeans. I threw on a red plaid scarf, an army green jacket, and my brown combat boots, and I was dressed. All I did for makeup was a little mascara and lip balm. I brushed my hair but decided to leave it in its wavy state. I clasped a little silver chain around my neck, grabbed my phone, and I flew out of the room. Gonna be late, gonna be late, gonna be late.

I woke up late this morning, so I was rushing to get myself out of the house. I grabbed an apple and my keys as I ran to the front door. "Going out, bye!" I hollered and shut the door behind me.

The crisp air hit me as I walked to my car and sat in the driver's seat. I glanced at my phone. Better get a move on. I started the car and drove out of the neighborhood. I turned on the radio at a red light and continued on the route to the museum.

Half an hour later I pulled into a free space in the parking lot--fifteen minutes late. I walked into the building, only to run into someone walking out.

{a/n}

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