My Love, Brian May

The Walk Home

School ended and we each went our separate ways. I liked to walk even though I could drive. The scenery was usually beautiful and it was good exercise.
Brian lives on the other side of our neighborhood which was only a few blocks. We agreed that at 7:30, we would meet at Pearl Street which was the middle of our two house's distance. We would meet up and walk the rest of the way together. My neighborhood wasn't that safe and neither of us wanted anything bad happening to each other...in a friendly way.
I was walking the usual way when I heard some yelling. Looking ahead, I see a familiar tall man on the ground getting kicked by 3 boys I knew of. I gasp and drop all my bags, running towards him. Now since I live in this bad town I carry pepper spray in my boot usually wherever I go. I pick up the pace and finally reach him.
"Get the fuck off him you bastards!" I yell, pushing them off of him and helping him up from the ground. He brushes his shirt off when I notice a scratch upon his right cheek.
"What the fuck did you just say little girl?" One of them asked me, puffing his chest out and hovering over me.
"Get. The. Fuck. Off. Him wanker." I repeat, staring them dead in the eye. They begin cracking their knuckles looking all tough. I hadn't noticed one behind me and he begin to grab my waist and inner thigh.
"Don't touch me you creep!" I raise my leg and kick him in his manhood. He moaned in pain and fell to the floor. I reach down to my boot and pull out my pepper spray. Holding the can to their faces, I push the button down. They all fell to the ground, wincing in pain, and pressing their eyes.
I grab Brian's hand and run to my stuff which was on the way to my house. I pick up my bag and continue running with him still behind me holding my hand.
We reached my house, panting from the two blocks we had just ran. I open the door, pulling him in with me before shutting it and kicking my shoes off.
"Hey there honey! Oh who's your friend? He's quite handsome Iz." My mum says as she comes to shake his hand. I roll my eyes at her comment, setting my things by the coat hanger.
"Mum! No! This is Brian. He's my friend!" I say, over pronouncing 'friend.'
"Hello, Mrs. Curry. It's a pleasure to meet you." Brian says, shaking her hand in return.
"Oooooooo, very polite. He's a keeper honey." She says winking at me.
"Sure mom. Uh Brian and I will be upstairs okay?" I say, motioning to the stairs.
"Alright hon, don't forget to use protection." She yells as we walk away towards the stairs.
"Mum! What the fuck! No!" I yell back at her, turning to see Brian's red face. I swallow down my embarrassment before continuing up the stairs.
As we enter my room, Brian looks around at all the posters of rockstars on the walls and records all over the floor.
"I hope you don't mind the mess, music can get to my head sometimes." I say with a laugh, gently kicking the vinyls out of the way.
"I like your room. I didn't know you liked the Beatles." He says looking at the signed poster of the Beatles.
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me Mr. May. But I don't...my dad did. He went to see them and got it signed. He loved them, but unfortunately he passed away when I was 13. I only hung it up because he liked them." I say as I pick up the records and place them in the bin, avoiding Brian's eye contact.
I go to my dresser and pull out my small first aid kit. As I take out the bandages and rubbing alcohol, I feel a set of hands grab my waist and hug me.
"I'm so sorry Iz." He says. I feel his head rest on my shoulder as I stand there in complete shock, not knowing what to say. I feel my shirt start to get wet. Was he crying? Why? It happened a long time ago. He doesn't need to feel sympathy towards me. "I can't imagine what you must be going through." He says into my ear making me shiver.
He lifts his head up as I turn to look at him. Yep. His eyes were red and watered. I look at him and smile.
"Please don't cry. It was such a long time ago. You don't need to feel sympathy towards me." I say reassuringly, but in the inside I was holding back a fountain of tears.
I turn back and pull out a cotton ball and rubbing alcohol. Pouring a generous amount, I then turn back to face him.
"Could you maybe sit on the chair, your really tall." I say giggling at the height difference. He smiles before taking a seat at my desk chair.
I slowly place my hand on one side of his face and lightly dab the soaked fluff on his scratch. He sharply inhales in response allowing me to quickly take it off at the sounds of his pain.
"I'm sorry, it'll only hurt for a few seconds." I reassure him and lightly dab it on the wound again. I feel his hand land on top of mine. My eyes avert down to his, flashing a subtly smile.
I take my hand off his face and turn to grab a bandaid. The feeling of a pair of eyes staring at my backside was being felt, but I brushed it off.
I turn back and gently place the bandaid on his forehead. Placing a small kiss on the covered wound, I smile in delight.
"Feel better?" I ask. He nods.
"What's your favorite band?" He asks randomly.
I look up at my wall at all the posters I've received over the years. My eyes land on three older men in white.
"I would have to say The Bee Gees."
"Really?" He asks looking up at my poster. "I bet I could change your mind." He adds, locking eyes with me.
"And how do you suppose your going to do that?" I ask, crossing my arms in front of my chest, smiling.
"Tomorrow is Friday. Come to the pub downtown on Frankfurt Street. We'll be playing from 6-8 pm." He says, smiling at me.
"I thought you didn't want me to see you perform." I recall, sarcastically.
"I don't, but I bet you'll like the way Tim sings. He's really good." He tries to persuade me.
"Alright. I'll be there. Do you want me to dress up?" I ask.
He looks at my body up and down, making my face turn red.
"Why not?" He says.
He then proceeds to get up and walk towards the door.
"Where something navy. It goes with your eyes. See you tomorrow, Izzy." He says as he walks out. I hear him go down stairs as I release all the tension in my body.
     'My eyes are brown. How do they go with my eyes?' I hear the door close, signaling me that he has gone home.
"Hey mom!" I yell so she can hear me from downstairs.
"What?!" She replies.
"Does blue go with my eyes?" I ask, still yelling.
"Yes hon, especially dark blues." She replies.
'Huh, so he was right.' I rummage through my closet and find a nice navy top, a black jacket, and jeans to go with it. Looking at my collection of shoes, I go with the tall brown ones that are the exact same color as my eyes. Since we are going to be downtown, I'll need a spot for my pepper spray.
I try on the outfit and look into my mirror behind my door. 'Damn. He was right. It does go with my eyes.' I do a little spin and look myself up and down.

This is perfect.