In The Long Run

That's Life

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That's Life:

　

I crept behind the nearest tree. It was the same tree he was leaning on, the night of Bailey's funeral. I kneeled behind it to get a better view of whatever "blondie" was doing. Well, I mean it's pretty obvious what he was doing here, but who was he seeing? And what was he saying?? I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop on people, but I mean after our last encounter, I think I have a right to get a little more info on Mr. Mysterious-pants.

He was kneeling beside a cross-shaped tombstone. The wind picked up a little and a small strand of blue hair whipped around my face. I pushed it behind my ear and leaned in a bit closer to hear what he was saying.

"Things are the same...nothing really knew. Prom's just around the corner, so that's cool I guess. I'm still writing, too. Aunt Jane says you'd be proud...I mean, I guess that's pretty much it. Well, except for the 'blue-haired wonder'. She seems quite interesting, but too angry." He spoke calmly.

Wait..."blue-haired wonder"? Was he talking about me? I'm not angry! Plus, we met just once...how would he know?

"Also, she has horrible taste in clothing." At this, he smirked. I frowned and dropped my gaze to what I was wearing.

I do not! I look...decent. Okay, I admit the past few days I have put a little less effort into what I wear, but so what? We all have our bad days. Again, we had just ONE encounter! Who the heck is he to judge me?

I was getting angrier by the second. I balled my fists to my side. He suddenly grew quiet. I slightly frowned and took a step closer, just beside the tree. Then he spoke again.

"I think she needs help. Not in a bad way, like a need for a doctor or anything. No, not that kind of help. Just someone to talk to..." He trailed off and I raised my eyebrows slightly, in surprise. I unballed my fists.

Help? Someone to talk to?? Maybe...but why should he care? He's a stranger...A stranger who disturbingly knows too much about me.

A big breeze picked up, this time bigger than the last. The wind blew some dust into my face, and I couldn't stop myself. I sneezed loudly, and my eyes went wide when he spun around, now alarmed.

He frowned, slightly confused, and my jaw dropped. I cleared my throat to say something that would break the awkward silence, but no words would come out. I tried to say sorry, but the words just wouldn't form.

"Wer—were you just...spying on me?" He asked suddenly, as he tilted his head slightly to the left. It wasn't anger in his voice, like I expected, but surprise. I shut my mouth, and cleared my throat once again. I tightly crossed my arms over my chest.

"I do not have horrible taste in clothing." I replied, quietly. His eyebrows flew up in surprise, by my sudden answer. I was actually pretty surprised, myself. I was going for a "Hey, I'm sorry for spying, but I gotta go, bye." Not exactly a defensive statement regaurding my wardrobe. But, hey those are the words that came out of my mouth, and I decided to just go along with it. He gave me tight closed smile and crossed his arms, too.

"Well, I'm sorry to be the one to damage your 'girl pride', but yes, indeed you do." He was now smirking, as he flicked a peice of his blonde hair out of his face. I frowned and my jaw dropped in complete and utter bewilderment. I took a step closer and pointed my index finger at him.

"Who do you think you are? The fashion police??" It was a lame comeback, I know, but it was all I could think of at the moment. I wasn't witty, but I had a temper. He angered me twice as much, when his smirk turned into a full smile.