The Girl

Kat

"So, tell me a bit about yourself." he says.

God, I hate talking about myself.

"Well, I am 17, I work at Starbucks," I jingle my coffee cup from Starbucks for emphasis. "I am an only child. I already graduated, so I dont go to school, but I am going to go to college soon. Uhm... I love to read, I like to draw and I hate talking about myself." I say with a smile. "Your turn."

"Woah, wait, so you're already graduated? You must be really smart." Jasper says in awe. I just shrug. I learn fast, I wasnt some super genius.

"It's your turn to tell about yourself, Jasper." I say, pulling my feet up to sit criss crossed on the bench. He smiles, smiles like my dad. So genuinely and happily that it must be fake, right? No, that doesnt make much sense...

"Well, I am 16, about to be 17 in exactly 6 days. I work at a factory, making dolls. I surprisingly live alone, even for a 16 year old. But my parents are kind of a lot to handle. I own a red Mustang, I was once the lead singer in my band that split up last year. I still go to school, I am a junior. I have one older brother who still lives with my parents, but quite honestly, my family is kinda crazy, so I dont have contact with them... But on the bright side, I have lots of freedom without restrictions from parents."

"Uh huh." I say nodding. "And is that your natural hair color, or is that dyed?" I ask, lightening up the mood a little. He gives a small chuckle that I found oddly attractive.

"It's my real hair color." he says smiling. "And I will just guess that that is yours."

"No, actually, this is dyed. My real hair color is red. Strawberry blonde. With a lot of strawberry." I smirk. "But I like the way black looks on me."

"I think you would be beautiful either way." he says.

"Well. Thanks... In honesty, being strawberry blonde brings up old memories I am not fond of... so..." I shrug and sip my coffee. "Back to you though. So, you sing?"

He does that chuckle again and looks down, then back up at me, giving me a slight smile.

"Yeah, I guess. Not sure how good I am anymore b-"

"Sing me something."

"Right now? Here?"

"Well yeah, I wanna hear."

"But we are in the park, Kat."

"So?" I smile at him. "Unless your scared." I taunt. He just flips his hair a little and sighs.

"Alright. What do you want me to sing?" he asks, still with that half smile like he was enjoying it modestly.

"Just a few verses of something. Doesn't matter what." I shift on my side of the bench excitedly and he laughs a little.

"Okay." He readies himself and clears his throat. "All the leaves on the giving tree have fallen

No shade to crawl in

underneath

Got a scar from a pocketknife where you carved

Your heart

Into me

If all you wanted was love

Why would you use me up

Cut me down

Build a boat

And sail away

Cause all I wanted to be

Was your giving tree

Settle down

Build a home

And make you happy." he sings. His voice is smooth, gentle, and medium range. It wasnt too high, it wasnt too deep, it was beautiful.

I clap for him, smiling. "That band shouldn't have broken up. With a voice like that, it could go far." I tell him. He blushes gently, looking down.

"Can't believe I just sang in the park." he laughs.