I'm about to cross the street when suddenly a car's horn booms in my ears, freezing my movements. A black BMW races down the street, dismissing a cyclist by a whisker.
"Where are you? Please, don't say, you're on the way to University," Ana begs on the other end of the line.
"No," I laugh. "I'm way too late for that."
"Good, because I'm not going either. I have a hell of a hangover, Zoe," she whines. I know what she is talking about. I myself needed almost the whole day to cure out my headache. There was no chance that I go to the only lecture that I have on Monday morning. The semester is drawing to an end and I'm on the verge of writing my first exams, which usually demands highest participation and ambition especially for the following last weeks and I'm feeling slightly guilty for not taking it as serious as I probably should. "Where are you then?"
"Remember when I told you my laptop is broken? I found someone who might be able to fix it," I say into the mouth piece of my mobile phone and enter the dock building where the guy has his apartment in.
"How?"
"I saw an ad on the notice-board in the library," I tell her whilst walking up the stairs to the very top floor.
"I don't know if I should call him or not. He's kinda cute, but also quite weird..." Ana abruptly changes the topic and ponders over some guy she is currently seeing. Eventually, she ends up in a conversation with herself. By the time I reach the apartment, I cut her short and we say good bye, before I hang up and press the bell next to the massive blue steel-door.
The door opens a few seconds later and a guy with short dark blonde curls and nerd glasses comes into the picture. At first he looks puzzled and he eyes me from top to bottom until they spot the laptop in my hands.
"Oh, you must be Zoe, right?" A light dawns on him and he smiles at me. "I'm Marc. Come on in." He gestures me to go inside and with my laptop clamped under my arm, I follow him. My eyes are wide when I take in the interior. His apartment is more like a little loft with hardwood floor and walls made of white bricks. The sunlight floods through the large old windows, highlighting the vintage furniture. On the right side of the room is the open plan kitchen and a big wood table, surrounded by six different kinds of chairs. The shelves are filled with vinyl records and books. On the wall hang a few posters of bands and different works of art. It's incredible how motley yet matching the pieces of furniture look.
"What happened to your laptop?" Marc asks me and we settle down at the wooden table.
"I accidentally spilled a drink over it," I admit, leaving out the details. All my pictures are on my laptop and I don't even want to imagine that they could be lost forever.
"Okay, let's see," he says amused and his fingers start flying over the keyboard. I watch his thoughtful expression as he reprograms my laptop. He stops typing, stares at the screen and scratches the back of his head.
"How come you know all this stuff about computers?"
"I'm studying computer science," he retorts self-contented. "What about you?"
"Marine-Biology."
"Really? My roommate studies that, too. Maybe you know him, he's second year."
"Oh, I don't think so. I'm just in the second semester," I say. I have just a few friends in University, none of them is in a higher semester.
Marc continues to fix my laptop and I try to follow what he is doing, but give up after a short time and look bored into space.
The sound of a key unlocking the front door, followed by the noise of footsteps in the hallway, apprise the arrival of someone else entering the apartment.
YOU ARE READING
BREATHE
Teen Fiction"He makes me question every promise I've ever made to myself and he makes me open up when I don't even want to let myself in. He helps me to breathe when I forget how to."
