| |
*Note, read chapter 1 (Under stories, NOT BOOK!) and chapters 2-5 to have a better understanding of the story.
The person was silent. When the drinks came he simply slid the one he got for me across the bar so it landed right in my hand. I stared into the cup silently, then, reluctantly, slid the cup back to him.
"I'm fine. I don't need help. OK?" I said with my head down. More than anything, I don't want this mystery guy to know that I'm cold, thirsty, lost, and miserable.
He looked at me with a suspicious look on his face. "Take it! You are obviously are cold, thirsty, lost, and miserable," he said sliding the cup back.
"No, really, I'm fine," I said sliding the cup back, with a little more force.
"You're obviously NOT fine. Take it." he said sliding it back to me. I glared at him, proving that he had not quite won the war. Then, picked up the cup and took a long gulp. Once I had finished the drink I placed the cup on bar. The random guy let out a large laugh. All I did was look at him cluelessly, making him laugh harder.
"Look in the mirror," he just barely managed to say. I looked over at the full length mirror only a few feet away that was hanging on the back wall. Then, I noticed, I had the worlds largest Milk- well, actually, "mocha"-Mustache. I searched the counter for something to wipe off this embarrassing mustache from my face. Finally, on the counter, I found a napkin dispenser. I quickly reached for a napkin, but there were none to be found, for the dispenser was empty.
Having run out of ideas on what to use, I used the back of my sleeve. The guy next to me started to burst with laughter, and I turned a bright red.
"Obviously, your not from around here. But why are you wondering around a place like this? Tourists never come here. But then again, you aren't what you'd call an 'everyday tourist,' now, are you?" the guy said after putting aside his empty cup. I simply nodded. He had basically said everything I was willing to say.
The guy then smiled a warm, comforting smile, "Name's Zack."
I returned the smile, "May."
"Well, nice to meet you," said Zack as he started to lean back in his chair, "So, what ARE you doing here?"
"Blinking...Breathing..." I smiled brightly.
He laughed, then gave me a serious look, urging me o continue.
"My 'oh-so-loving mother' abandoned me in Britain saying I should spend 'quality time' my wonderful father who I haven't even seen since I got here!" I said rudely.
Zack looked at me amazed, "You don't like your father, eh?"
"That obvious?" I said back.
Zach nodded. Then there was a long silence.
"Hey, the rain stopped," he said happily.
"Yeah," I sighed.
"How are you getting home? You have a car?" he asked. He looked like he already knew the answer, but still, I'm happy he asked.
"No, no car. I'll walk," I said sadly, he's gonna think I'm twelve or something now. What kind of person WOULDN'T have a car!
"Oh, well, do you need a ride?"
"No. I'll walk," I said simply.
"I can drive you, really, and you are defiantly going to catch a cold outside, we'll stop by my house, and get you cleaned up," he emphasizing 'cleaned up.' Then, I just realized I WAS a mess. My clothes were soaked, and my jeans were covered with mud stains. Not to mention the fact that I didn't have a coat only made things worse.
"C'mon, I won't hurt you or anything. It isn't like I'm going to steal your worthless cash, or anything else you have," he added in. I nodded unsurely. Then, next thing I knew I was in the car to "some-random-guy-that-I-hardly-knew"'s house. When we got there I realized it wasn't necessarily a house, but a trailer.
Zack walked up to the door with me following close behind. As he searched in his pockets for his keys, I took the time to observe him. Not in a strange way. But so I could just get an idea of what he might be like. I know, "You shouldn't judge a book by it's cover." But the cover does kind of show what the book might be about, if you read it right, that is. In the dark I really didn't see what his face was like, but now I noticed he was a lot younger that I thought he was. He was probably 18 or 19. And he was taller than me. Nothing drastic, he wasn't seven feet tall or anything, but a good few inches taller than me. He also had black hair and blue-ish eyes. Don't ask why I'm examining him so closely. I do it to almost everybody, except I don't randomly stare off at people, I wait for them to turn away.
After a good few minutes of jiggling the doorknob, Zack managed to get the door open, and revealed and dilapidated living room and two different guys sitting on the couch. One looked about as tall Zack. He had red hair, and green, sparkling eyes. He had a button nose and looked like how you might picture an elf, other than the ears of course. What scared me the most, was that he was wearing the exact same Green Day shirt as myself. I don't know how big Green Day is in Britain. But when you first picture British people, you definitely don't picture a Green Day fan. The other guy looked even taller than Zack and the red hair guy. He had brown hair, and brown eyes, and was wearing brown glasses. Not BIG glasses or anything, and they weren't dorky. Just glasses. He was wearing a t-shirt from a band I had never heard and a pair of long, baggy, dark jeans.
The red haired guy was lounging on the couch taking up as much space as three men could. He had his legs stretched out and had his left arm sticking out with a remote in hand, constantly changing the channel on the TV. The other guy was sitting quietly on the couch taking up barely any room. He was reading a big book, and was silent, unlike the red haired guy, who is yelling at the TV as if it were a person.
Though both were extremely different, they both seemed like good friends. When Zack entered the room, the red haired guy jumped up and greeted Zack.
"Hey, what took you so long?" he said not knowing I was standing quietly behind the person he was talking to.
"Ah, sorry Lar," Zack said to the red haired guy, "I got held up." Zack then stepped aside to reveal me behind him.
"Guys, this is May," Zack said, "Be nice, she's just going to be here for a while." The brown hair guy looked up from his book and nodded toward me, acknowledging me that he knew I was there, but the red haired guy wasn't as quiet at all. He went right up to me and took a obnoxious bow, making me laugh. He then looked up from his bow and said in a fake French accent, "Boswa, madmusel." He then switched poses, so he looked like a knight and said in an accent I'd never heard of, "Thy name is Larry." I started to burst with laughter and Zack joined in. Larry then attempted a Mickey Mouse impersonation, and even the quiet brown hair guy looked up from his book and started laughing.
Then, realizing he should say something, the brown hair guy put his book down and walked up to me, then I noticed he was at least 6 '4 making myself look like a midget compared to him. For once, I wished I was taller. He spoke in a quiet, yet firm voice, "Name's Kyle." He stuck out his hand for me to shake, and smiled a small smile.
"Hey," I smiled back and shook his hand.
There was a long silence. Not an awkward one, or anything like that. It was one of those it's-nice-to-meet-you silences.
Then, Zack broke the silence, "We need to get you into something else before you get sick."
Larry then looked at me with a shocked face. Obviously he hadn't noticed how cold and wet I was.
"What the heck happened to you?" he asked in a "when-did-this-happen" tone. I gave him a "you-should-have-noticed-this-hours-ago" look which made him even more anxious to find out what happened.
"May, here, forgot the first rule of walking in Britain," Zack said putting his hands on my shoulders, as if I was an example in something a school teacher would demonstrate.
"Don't eat chips and broccoli together at once, right?" Larry asked anxiously.
"No..."
"Booze is not the answer, it is the question. The answer is 'yes'?" he asked as if he thought it was the right question.
"No. It was-"
"Oh! I know! Wash you hands after taking a-"
"Don't walk around in town without a rain jacket," Zack answered, ignoring Larry's lame attempts at answering, "Now, I'll get you something to where, you stay here with Larry. And Larry. Please, don't bug her too much." Zack then left the room leaving Kyle, Larry, and I alone.
Larry automatically broke the ice. "So, your from America, eh?" he asked while sitting on the couch. Then, he urged me to sit down with him and Kyle. So, I took a seat right between him and the silent, reading Kyle.
"Is it really that obvious," I asked as I put my feet up and started to get comfortable.
"Well, the American accent kind of gave it away," he said in an obvious tone.
*There's such thing as an American accent?* I thought to myself as Larry, once again, began to flip through TV channels with the remote. Then, Zack entered the room again with a large shirt and a pair of baggy pants.
Zack chucked them at me, "Here, I hope these fit." I was about to ask where the bathroom was, but before I was even able to start my sentence he pointed to the door next to the room.
I walked into the room and removed my amazingly wet clothes, and put on the clothes he had handed me. The shirt was a t-shirt from concert of a band I had never heard of, and the pants were baggy camo pants. I could barely keep them on, even with the belt wrapped around my waist as tight as it could go.
When I stepped out of the bathroom Larry started to crack up, Zack laughed, and even Kyle let out a small giggle.
"That was the smallest I had, sorry," Zack said, though, he didn't seem to be sorry at all about me looking hilariously small in such big clothing. I then plopped on the couch between Larry and Zack. Then Kyle put away his book and got a bottle soda for each of us. All of us opened our bottles immediately, well, all of us except for Larry. He continued to examine his bottle.
"Well, are you going to drink it?" I asked after taking a big gulp of my drink.
"I propose a toast!" Larry said, ignoring my question. We all raised our bottles of soda.
"To outrageously big clothes!" he said is an announcer like voice. Then we all started cracking up.
*Ah...Now, I'm having a good time.*
|
Help Us Stop Plagiarism -
Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize.
To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste.
click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before
you recommend or rate the work highly...
|
 |
|
|
|
Select a Random Book
|
|
Welcome !
