Park Bench

Chapter 2

A bang jolts me out of my slumber. I look at the clock, it's twelve. Who is outdid my door? It could be anyone, yet my mind keeps being magnetized to one name. Marcus. I don't even know his last name. The fact that I hardly know this kid and he hardly knows me is unbelievable. And the fact that I think of him before my boyfriend Danny is also unbelievable, but it's not surprising. Danny and I have been dating since like ninth grade, yet I know Marcus better. It doesn't make sense.
The knock on the glass gets louder and more determined. Shit who is it.
It's probably the creep who sleeps on the bench in the park. Why did Marcus leave? Why would he leave me when I'm so vulnerable, so broken. Why would he leave me? He's such an ass.
He has a nice ass.
Stop.
Stop.
Stop thinking about him.
Stop thinking about it all. Focus on what is happening right now. I sink down and hide in my coat hoping to go unnoticed. They won't see me they are just trying to steal my car not me. I shut my eyes secretly hoping that the voodoo magic that works when you're a scared child hearing the wind will work right now.
There is nothing there.
I am alone. Finally. I am alone.
I force my eyes to peel open and face the fact that I'm a bit emotional right now and cannot think rationally. My heart is litter ally going to explode from too much blood being pumped. Quickly my eyes shoot up to the window above me.
I become a banshee for at least a minute of straight screaming.
There is a face. There is a person. I'm going to die. The door suddenly flies open. I fall.
How did I not know it was unlocked?
My shoulders greet the ground with a joyful thump. Ouch. I scramble to my feet. Fight or flight right? So I'm gonna fight. I blindly punch the air as tears swell in my eyes and turn a sickly shade of black as the run down my cheek. I punch and punch. And punch. And punch. A pounding sound engulfs all my surroundings. I punch until I hit something. Something squishy and strong. Something human.
"Oh, God! Reese." A hoarse, quiet, pained voice grunts. "Was that necessary? I mean I know your stressed but I've literally turned into your punching bag." I wipe my face off and try to stop the fountain of youth that resides in my eyes. I shake my head and see red sneakers. Marcus.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I shout too loud and too harsh.
"That's a greeting I appreciate." My hair falls in front of my face that probably looks like a melting candle. I push the lot back and grin slightly at the lopsided smile directed toward me.
"I'm sorry." Silence again. Since when is there so much awkward silence in this relationship? Since when is this a relationship?
"I probably look terrible."
"Of course."
"What?"
"You care way too much about vanity. I mean yeah you look pretty bad, but then again you just pulled out some major samurai moves so you're not going to look great."
"What." He takes my face into his hands. Calluses cover every inch of his strong hands and they are rough and manly against my cheek.
"You can't keep worrying. You don't have to look "perfect" all the time. People hate, I hate it when someone has every hair in place, every shirt wrinkle free, everything the way it's supposed to be. It all seems so artificial." He stares straight into my eyes. We just stand there in silence, but not awkward silence, blissful silence. A whisper escapes from Marcus' mouth and colors his breath in the air.
"You deserve better than Danny."
The wind picks up and makes goosebumps form on my legs. Marcus shutters and quickly removes himself from me, stepping back a fair distance. His posture suggests anger, but I can't see his face to get a good reading. He is shaking his head to the ground.
"So, are you just here to, uh, tell me that or, um, why did you come back." I ask now shaking my head to the ground. Why am I so awkward?
"I came to." He stops. His hands are pale at the knuckles clenched tightly in a fist. "Get my jacket." I got to admit that's a bit of a let down. Even though I was g expecting him to say or do anything or even come back there always is a hope for unrealistic things hard wired in my brain. Still it's hard to deny that there was something happening but what was I expecting? I don't deserve more even if he thinks so. I can't have him. I don't deserve him. I look down at his black jacket laid over my tan shoulder.
"I'm sorry. I was cold." He smiles so dang charismatically. That smile that is one side lifted, and the dimple on his left cheek becomes prominent.
"You can keep it."
"Thanks." It smells like him. The boyish scent of boy and mud that has now become one of the sexiest smells in the world. Seriously, if there was a cologne called mud I would buy it and spray it all over my house.
My stomach makes a malicious gurgling sound.
"Let's get something in there before it takes over Tokyo." He pokes at my stomach.
"Oh is that how Godzilla was formed?" I lift my hand to my mouth in awe. "I always thought it was the advanced science of Japan." He smiles.
"Depends on interpretation." He shrugs.
"Doesn't it always." He opens his mouth to contradict and probably give some fact, but he stops himself.
"Yes. Yes it does."