Meet Me Halfway🖇

sweater weather.

Crow's POV~

"Well that was a mess, was it not?"

"Just jump out, please."

After deciding to ditch the idea of thanking her for this ride back to our houses thanks to her polite threat, I turn to stare out the window. With all its raindrops on the cold glass, I wonder how Roxy could be so much damn colder.

"Roxy, w-"

"No."

"What the hell, I didn't even-"

"No."

Okay, so asking her about her potential childhood trauma is a no-go. While looking for a topic to break this pathetically awkward silence, a glimmer in this dark car stands out. Coming from her hand, I notice a gold ring, looking cheaply made and a little rusted with age, I must say.

"What's with that ring? Would your hubby be comfortable with you in this car with me?" I uncomfortably laugh. The awkwardness usually never gets to me, but somehow Roxy is always an exception.

She's silent for a moment, probably thinking of the right thing to say without revealing too much. While knowing her for like what, almost a month? I could already tell how much her experiences have clearly affected her ability to open up to people.

I hate how similar we are.

"A friend. She's...just taking a break for a while. She doesn't need this ring, for now," she vaguely answers. It's surprising because her reply isn't riddled with any sort of sass or fucking swear words.

"The rain seems to be getting heavier," she smoothly changes the subject.

I feel like I brought the mood down. She doesn't seem like herself in this moment. It's like I'm seeing a different side that was brought out the moment I brought up something clearly personal.

"So what about that necklace?"

"God fucking dammit, Crow. Are you planning to rob me or some shit?" She turns to me in obvious irritation at my nagging. There she is.

"Ok yeesh, the tension is just suffocating, sue me for trying to get to know a friend." I quickly dart my eyes at her to check for any kind of facial response to my use of the word friend.

She's silent for a moment again, before returning to her bitchy self.

"Maybe I will consider suing you up into a doll that I can later throw into the ocean if it means you'll shut the fuck up."

"Okay that was a little overboard wasn't it? Pffffhhh." I snort. I think I figured out why she hates me.

Roxy's POV~

I hate that asswipe and his somewhat humorous jokes.

And what was up with him suddenly asking about my style in accessory? Well, of course, their appearances weren't the reason I chose to wear them, but what the hell does he need to know those reasons for?

"You know why people hate you, right?" I respond after his stupid comeback.

"Wait, wait, why are we pulling into your driveway and not mine?" He points out I turn off the ignition after arriving here in front of my garage door.

"You live literally across me. Walk." I turn to him while getting my umbrella from the back seat.

"Dude, you see the cups of water falling outside, right? C'mon, don't be a douche, I don't even have an umbrella. At least give me that," he points to the umbrella I'm holding, "my door is like 14 steps away, c'mon."

"let me think, ahh," I pretend to ponder undecidedly even though I know damn well what I'm doing, "ha, no, suffer bitch." I laugh in his face as I open my umbrella the same time I step out of my car.

"That's cold." He says as he makes no attempt to shield his face from the rain while stepping out as well.

I laugh loudly so he hears my cackles as I continue to watch him walk across the street to meet the doorstep I see everyday.

As he starts knocking on his own door, I turn around and decide to head inside.

I enter my house with the same expectation I always come home to. The smell of burnt food and a distinct smoke I choose not to recognize meets my senses. I guess my mom tried to cook again, that being the only new thing she tried today.

I head up to my room and lay my jacket on my bed, checking outside the window just to see if its still pouring as hard as it was minutes ago. It's California, hail and sunlight can be seen in the same day. So much to say, it's unpredictable.

Surprisingly not as predictable as seeing Crow still sitting on the curb in front of his house, soaking.

"The hell..?" The lights in his house are on, why the hell is he not inside?

Whatever, if he thinks I'm gonna suddenly come to his rescue because he's sulking in the rain like a pathetic loser, he's wrong.

After showering, getting dressed, and turning off my lights before heading to bed, I check again just to see if the weather has changed. Not to my surprise, the weather hasn't changed a bit.

Crow still resides in the same spot, under the same conditions, soaking.

It's been about an hour now, surely his parents or whoever is in his house will just open the damn door. Is he even locked out? Is he out there on his own will?

I better go ask. That's all I'll do, just ask.

Breathing out a huge sigh because I know I have to get out of my warm sheets, I slip on the same boots I was wearing and grab an umbrella as I head out the door.

I greet the cold air with a middle finger as I walk underneath my umbrella towards Crow.

Conveniently, he's just a few feet away from where I'm standing.

1, 2,3,4,5,6...

I decide to count the amount of steps it takes from his house to mine, just so I have something to prove him wrong on.

15 steps.

"You were wrong, dipshit." My voice barely wins over the noise of the rain.

"Technically, I said 14 steps to my door, not to this curb." Somehow he immediately knew what I was referencing to as he e smiles a small smile while he looks up at me standing over him.

"Whatever. I'm not the moron that wants a cold." I gesture to the falling cold water around us.

"I'm not the one who actually is cold," he smirks.

"Har har. Why aren't you inside your house?" I get right to the point.

He makes no move to stand up so I hover my umbrella over his head.

"My mom's asleep and my idiot drunk of a stepdad is using that as an excuse not to let me in. Says I'll only cause a ruckus and wake her up or some shit, which is a weak excuse but I don't know, he's really drunk." He shrugs as he lays his chin on his knees.

"Then what was the plan? Were you expecting me to let you in my house or something?" Surely, he wasn't waiting for this to happen, was he?

"Well, I wouldn't say my prediction was far off because look where you're standing." He looks up at me standing over him with a certain look I can't pinpoint the emotion of.

Plus, I hate how right he is.