Third person's POV
Cyrus ' thoughts= Bold Italics
Keia's thoughts= italics
Sixteen minutes past six. That was the time Keia got to the parking lot. She had to finish an article on the upcoming events that semester.
The parking lot was almost empty, all except for a mangy black cat, two people making out next to the old oak tree in the centre and a little boy sulking out at her from the car he was probably left in. Not my fault your mom takes so long.
And of course, the person she was waiting to see. He was leaning against his red and black Ferrari, parked under a streetlight. He was fiddling with his thumbs absently as he looked deep in thought.
Inside, Cyrus was trying to find the right words to give his fallen angel. She's not mine. Why would you think that Cyrus?
He didn't really know much about her anymore. Was she put in foster care? Is that why she didn't have a car? Or is that one of the many rumours people just say?
Before he could fully decide, Keia came into view. He smiled again a crooked smile. Then the most unexpected thing happened: she burst into laughter.
He was unsure of why she was laughing and it made him feel numb, but something about her laugh was healing. Her darkest black eyes twinkled in the moonlight like they hosted a night of their own, where the stars danced in the skies. Her mouth was fully functional. Unlike the way she uses it to whisper at school.
Whatever tension Cyrus had in his muscles relaxed as he eased the question from his own mouth.
"What's so funny?"
"You only smile like that when you're in trouble."
It was one of the many little things that remained in the back of her head from her friendship with Cy.
She went back to being as serious as she could. She just went and stood in front of him. Trying to test something by looking into his eyes without blinking. He was about to say something but he suddenly was so lost in her eye, he forgot his question. Luckily, his mouth remembered.
"Is there something you want to tell me?"
Why did that come out so narcissistally? Is that even a word?
Did he just ask as if I was the one with guilty conscience right now?
"I wanted to tell you that what happened this morning was nothing. I mean, I was fine. I'm sorry for just brushing you off like that," she replied.
She's apologising?!
"No way! I was the one who insisted that Damien throw me the ball. If I had caught it, you wouldn't have got hurt. I'm sorry."
And then there was silence.
He broke it.
"So you have been holding up?" Why would I say that?!
"I'm fine."
" Not much of a conversationalist are you? "
She blushed. She blushed! I thought she would glare at me.
Why is he talking to me? Oh, because I called him to.
"Not really."
Time to pick on her insecurities. Finally.
"You should be, you have an amazing voice. Remember when you used to be the youngest in the adults choir at church. You were their best singer," said Cyrus, moving from his car and taking a step forward.
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful People
Teen Fiction"There's a world beyond being rich, famous and popular," he told me. I never believed him. Yeah sure, he could pretend like he wasn't a part of that world. Like he had no relationship with wealth and easy life. He told me he wasn't fased by all tho...
