The Idea of Love

"You can call me Gray."

(not edited)

IMOGEN

I like to think that we all have our own fairy-tale, we may not have started our first chapters yet. Or we may be nearing the end and not even realise. When my mum died, I was convinced I would be the next Cinderella. My dad never remarried so that backfired. Perhaps Snow White! My dad thought that this whole 'fairy-tale nonsense' as he preferred to call it, was a coping mechanism to find a way to cope with my mother's death. No, dad. I haven't coped. He passed away only 3 years after my mother; I was 10 years old and an orphan.

I still believe the fairy-tale theory to this day; the day of my seventeenth birthday. Reehaven Orphanage only had about 3 rules; don't break the law, don't swear, and after the age of 17, you were no longer their problem.

I had my bags packed, I had my own licence, and still had my parents' car; a little red Toyota Carolla.
Granted, it was very old, but still worked like a charm.
I'd worked at the bakery 3 roads across from the orphanage for two years now, and we all went to school together on the bus so I had a fair bit of money saved up.

I drove. And drove. Until... I ran out of fuel. I had a place in mind when I was driving; my grandmothers house. I'd never met her before but I was hoping she'd be able to help me.
The chunk of metal sputtered to a stop. The only issue that came to my mind was the fact that my car- currently my home- was in the middle of the road.
I slumped myself down , I was in the middle of nowhere with no food, water or fuel. I had money, but no where to spend it.

It's been 3 hours.

I'd never brought a phone, it was a waste of money. Who was I going to contact? My friends, who I saw everyday anyway. No, there was no use for one.
I attempted at catching the attention of by-passers, but all I got in return was a honk and a few colourful words.
I'm not sure about other people, but if I saw a car parked in the middle of the road, I'd pull over and see what was the matter.

I drifted off only to be woken up by a soft tap on the window. My eyes fluttered open to connect with bright green ones staring at me. He was gorgeous, with his emerald green eyes and dirty blonde curls. I'd soon find out he was my happily ever after, but for now, he was a by-passer who was glaring at me. "Oi! Might not be a good idea to park here." His voice was muffled as the windows were closed up, but I could detect a British accent.
I wound the window to explain my situation, and to my surprise, he actually offered help.

"I don't have any spare petrol, but I can offer you a lift? You can organise a tow-truck for this bad boy." He slaps the bonnet of the car. "For now, however, we'll need to push her off the road." He muttered, referring to the car.
I smiled at him, "Thank you!"

I didn't really need a tow-truck, I'd only ran out of fuel. Maybe filling up the tank would fix the problem without spending a fortune!

He looked to be around my age, perhaps a year or two older. A slight stubble was forming around his sharp jawline, and freckles were scattered lightly on his nose and cheeks. He had visible acne scars, which I assumed were from his earlier teen years.

"I'm Imogen by the way," I grinned.
" I'm Grayson," he didn't smile but his eyes twinkled, I supposed that's good enough. " But you can call me Gray."

Grayson.

I liked that name.

We unloaded all the bags from my car into his truck. "You have a lot of bags, eh?"

"That's the last one." I wasn't planning on telling him about my situation, figured he could give me a lift, I'd pay him for fuel then be on my way. I'm not too sure how I'd get back to my car if the whole grandma thing didn't work out. I'm hoping another 'Grayson' will be there.
I explained to Gray where my gran lives, "So she knows you're coming?" He confirmed.

I shook my head, "To be honest, I've never met her. I'm just hoping she's still around. The last time I saw her was around 7 years ago, she wasn't exactly jumping around then either."
I knew the exact date in which I last saw my grandma; my father's funeral.
She didn't say a word to me, I remember my dad always saying he didn't have the best relationship with his mother- that I was lucky to have such a loving mum.
But she's the only one left.

"So let me get this straight?" He murmurs, "You're going to visit a grandmother you've never met and this is assuming she's not uh, dead. And over a fight with your parents?"
"Yes." I confirmed. I lied to him. I had enough pity parties to last a lifetime.

He nodded his head, I could tell that he didn't agree with my decision.
I'd already informed him of the fact that my grandmother's house was around 3 hours away, he shrugged, "I have nothing better to do."
"For three hours?" I raised my eyebrows.
"What can I say? I have no life." He chuckled.

I suppose, I'd rather it was him then some random 40 year old paedophile. I'd taken a peek at his ID sitting in his open phone case; he wasn't lying.

Grayson L Williams was 19. At least if something went wrong, I had a name. I put the car in neutral, and took the handbrake off.

"PUSH!" Gray started pushing the car. Once we'd heaved her off of the road, I jumped into the passenger seat of his car, it was surprisingly clean. I felt slightly embarrassed about my car which admittedly, has Oreo wrappers and coke bottles strewn all over the joint.

We've been sitting an awkward cave of silence for over half an hour now. Grayson eventually clicked on the radio but kept the volume down. I didn't really want to talk or force him into a conversation.

"You know, I don't want to be that person, but my dad died when I was 4. I have my mum but it's not the same. I don't want to say forgive your parents as I don't know what happened, but if something happens to them- I can assure you that you'll regret every argument you had with them."

I already did that- the only arguments I had with my parents involved not eating my veggies and getting called stubborn. I eat my broccoli now, no matter how disgusting it tastes.

"I suppose it's a bit like losing your appetite; you know you eat half the bowl of mac and cheese and you get full, you have a crossroads of two choices- put the rest in the microwave or feed it to the dogs. Say, you feed it to the dogs and soon enough you're hungry again. There may be tuna in the fridge but nothing will beat mac and cheese."

Did he just... okay. Not judging but it's not like that. You see, you can go out and buy some more mac and cheese, I can't go and buy myself some new parents. Nor would I purposely 'feed them to the dogs' so to speak.

I kind of liked the fact that he attempted to explain what it was like to lose your parents and I totally get what he meant, you can't use someone then chuck them away when you're finish. You never know, just when you need them back, it may be too late.
I smile at him, I discovered I liked Grayson.

A/N

no, not in that way, as a friend. too soon for any kind of love. please note this is a short story so it will be rather fast-paced compared to most other teen cliches.

thanks for reading and do me a favour and press the star, it really does help.