Lassoing Love

The Rebel In Me

After two days of moping around and fighting with Billy, I have finally made it to Friday. I immediately wake up in the morning, shower, get dressed, and meet George downstairs. We hop in the truck and take off.

My purse is resting on my lap. Inside is my wallet, which contains four hundred dollars in cash. Luke and I may have lived in a crappy two-bedroom apartment but that didn't mean that I hadn't saved up plenty of money. In Chicago I had a job working at the nearest coffee shop.

Some people might consider me weird for this, but I loved my job. I loved waking up early and going to work, then coming home and smelling like coffee. Unlike most kids my age, I loved the taste of coffee. Most of all, I loved the atmosphere of the coffee shop. There was always people there, drinking coffee, preparing their energy for the day ahead of them.

My favorite part about the coffee shop was the table in the corner of the room. On that wall was a bookshelf. The cool thing about the shop was that customers were allowed--encouraged--to read the books. Trust me, I read them all. I spent hours upon hours of my life at that coffee shop, reading, working, drinking coffee, etc.

Here in Chunky, the nearest coffee shop is actually near the mall that we are headed to now. Although I have been a bum for the past two days, that does not mean I wasn't excited for this moment. I have been waiting for Friday to come ever since George agreed to take me.

Just the thought of being in a more populated, busier area has me thrilled. I don't expect much from this small city. I know it isn't going to be anything like Chicago. But there are actually malls where we are going, restaurants and coffee shops. Civilization!

It takes a while, but finally we arrive in the small city. George drops me off at the mall and informs me he will be back in five hours. He apologizes for the length of time he will be gone, but I encourage him to stay longer. I could spend the whole day here exploring.

When he leaves, I make my way into the building. The entrance smells fresh and clean, like new clothes. I make my way over to the women's section and begin browsing through the clothes selection.

After two and a half hours I have successfully found three pairs of jean shorts, six summer tops, and five tank tops. I try on all of my clothes, pick out my favorites, and then head to the check out. After purchasing my clothes, I walk over to exit.

Right across the street is a line of restaurants. I walk over to the lone coffee shop and enter happily. Unfortunately the coffee shop doesn't give me the same vibe the Chicago shops did. The place is much too small and has only two tables to sit at.

The smell, however, is enough to make me sentimental. I purchase a large, caramel latte and then walk the streets. My clothes were able to fit into one large bag. I carry my purse and clothes bag on my right shoulder and hold my latte in my left hand.

As I explore I take frequent sips and enjoy the night air. The sun has faded and the city lights are dim.

Down the road is a food court and a theater. I walk into the theater, curious to see what movies are playing. After buying some time in there, I walk back out and into the parking lot.

I hear the voices of several young men, standing around the exit of the theater. A few of them turn their heads to look at me. I glance at them and notice there are four guys and a girl, two of them are smoking cigarrettes.

"Hey there," one guy says.

I look around, making sure they are talking to me before I reply.

I lift my coffee cup at them in greetings.

"I haven't seen you around before. You new?" The same guy asks.

I nod my head, slightly afraid to answer with my voice. I grew up in Chicago, so I am accustomed to strangers and dangerous strangers. These guys seem a little routy, but nothing compared to the thugs in Chicago. Nothing I couldn't handle.