Crooked Young
The Red Stool
KARINA’S POV
Owen did not return to school until Thursday, a bright smile on his face and a new backpack slung over his shoulder. He’d went to Florida for an “extended weekend” with his family.
Picking apart my blueberry muffin, I listened fractionally to what Meg was wistfully talking about in my left ear. I caught a few keywords – idiot, egotistical, shitface – and quickly came to the conclusion that her brother had stolen the limelight yet again.
“Hey,” interrupted a familiar voice. I slowly tore my eyes off my food, glaring up at Owen with my tongue against the back of my teeth. He licked his lips and sat down, causing a whiff of strong cologne to roll over me.
“How are you?” He questioned lightly, opening his soda can and taking a small, polite sip.
“Okay,” I replied dryly.
“How has your day been?”
“Okay,” I repeated once again.
Owen cleared his throat, adjusting the collar on his polo shirt. “Are you alright? Have I done something wrong?”
Meg shifted uncomfortably at my side. “You didn’t think to tell me that we were dating?” I asked bitterly, averting my gaze to the shrinking lunch line. “Kind of sucked to hear it through the grape vine, to be honest.”
“I was going to-“
I waved my hand at him, lips pursed into a thin line. “Save it.”
"No, hear me out," he argued, running his fingers through his hair. "Look, I was just off my face. I was really drunk and I did plan to actually ask you, but I just-" He took a deep breathe. "I just wanted to tell everyone that I was going out with you there and then. You really are something to boast about, y'know."
"I'm not a fucking car," I retorted. "Just leave me alone from now on, please."
Owen scoffed, unrightfully, and stood up. “You know what? Fuck you,” he mumbled, features scrunched with anger. He grabbed his things and hurried off, murmuring some incoherent sentence about girls and expectations.
I sighed, crossing my legs under the table, and shoved a large bit of muffin in my mouth. Meg began to ramble on about how all guys were idiots, and how he was the king of assholes, and how she would kill to throw the school’s “Friday Surprise” stew over his head.
“Not all boys are bad,” I argued. “Just Owen Sullivans.”
“A-fucking-men,” said Elise, collapsing into the newly vacated chair. “I’m assuming you two spoke, then?” I nodded. “Well, that’s great. I'm going to kick him in the balls next time I see him."
"Why?" Asked Meg.
Elise shot her a look, like it was the most absurd question ever to be said. She flicked her perfect hair behind one shoulder, licking her lips like she was about to give a massive speech. She leaned towards Meg, hunching over the table, and narrowed her eyes. "Because he was an asshole to Kat, that's why."
I smiled, inwardly, and thanked Elise. She told me it's what friends do. I told her I was thankful that I had friends.
Scribbling down the formula for calculating potential energy, I let the evening sun cast a warm glow over my room. With my dad still away at work, and my homework almost complete, I let the different shades of orange and pink grab my attention. Out of my window, beyond the tree which partially obscured my view, pink clouds peppered the sky. Some were mirrors for vibrant shades of red and orange, whilst the smaller ones - which looked a lot like bits of fluff - let a gentle pink glow rest on them.
Being pulled out of my thoughts, I heard the house phone ringing downstairs. I dropped my pencil, army rolled off the bed, and darted down the stairs. Phone calls were exciting, especially when you were home alone.
"Crazed cereal killer, crazed cereal killer," I whispered, crossing my fingers behind my back. I lifted up the phone and, unfortunately, was not greeted by the voice of a psychopath. On the line was some woman with a thick Southern accent asking me If I'd like to buy some windows. I rejected, telling her that I could neither afford nor install such things, and then hung up.
As I turned to go back up the stairs, I felt something stop me. I took a slow step back and glanced towards the bowl next to the door, where the keys lay. I approached cautiously, like my dad had censors secretly placed around the hall to track my movements, and lifted them out. I then, whilst whirling them thoughtfully round my finger, slipped my Vans on. I'm going out, I guess.
Locking the door behind me, I made the decision to take my bike, as it would allow me to go further faster. I, after fighting with the rusty lock, finally got it out of the old shed. The breaks weren't great, and the beautiful teal colour had faded, but the wheels went round and that's all that mattered.
Once I got into a good rhythm, I was cruising down the empty streets with the sun's glow against my face. The clouds were still scattered across the sky, and I let myself admire them when along large stretches of straight road. As time went on, I became more and more thankful that my dad had to work. I needed the distance. I needed the break. I needed the escape.
Eventually, after pedalling for a good 20 minutes, I arrived at The Red Stool - a small cafe that sold the best cookies in San Diego. I left my bike behind one of the large grey bins, tucked behind an old cardboard box, and headed inside.
The Red Stool was a small place - the amount of customers never having exceeded 10 in my lifetime. The walls were decorated with old pictures of somewhere unspecified, but I'd asked when I was little and had been told that it was Wales. In the pictures, there were great rolling hills topped with snow. There were also a few of ragged mountains, barely visible from the overhanging fog. It was like an alternate world; I was in love with it.
"Kat," said the owner cheerily in a distorted Welsh accent, wiping down her apron as I approached. "What can I get you?"
"Oh nothing," I rushed, "I was just passing by. I decided to go for a cycle."
"Good for the legs," she winked. "Come on, have something. It's on the house."
"You don't have to," I ensured her. "Really, it's fine."
"Karina," she said in a warning tone, eyebrows raised to widen her soft grey eyes.
All of a sudden, I felt someone's arms wrap around me, lifting my feet off the ground. I got ready to fight them off, but stopped the minute I inhaled. The person smelled like mint. The person smelled like Tony.
"Young love," said the owner, rather dreamily, as she chuckled. The person put me back down and I instantly whipped myself round, almost falling into Tony as I did so.
"Helen," he said, placing one hand on my arm (to steady me) as he stepped closer to the counter, leaving me wedged between it and him. "I was wondering if I could talk to you about maybe doing another little gig in here sometime?"
"Gig?" I said, barely audible. Tony didn't hear me, or at least he didn't act like it; his eyes remained locked on her.
"Of course, that last one brought in good business," she said positively, her words igniting a flame in Tony's eyes. A wide smile came across his face, and then he looked down at me. I wondered if he had been watching the sunset too, because I could've sworn I seen it reflecting in his eyes.
"Hi," he whispered, rubbing my arm gently as he placed a soft kiss on my forehead. The smell of mint filled my lungs, and I struggled to remain standing as time went on.
"How are you doing at school?" Helen asked in a parental tone. Tony took a step back, causing a breeze to flood between us.
"Not great," he answered honestly. She then enquired about whether or not he'd been arrested lately, to which he denied. There was a long pause before he added, "well, I did, but not for anything serious."
"Just because you didn't murder someone doesn't mean it isn't serious," she argued. I turned to face Helen, who was giving Tony a firm scowl.
"I know," he said, head dropping and hands finding their way into his pockets. There was a moment of silence - of painfully long, awkward silence - before he looked at me. "Do you wanna go for a walk, or something?"
"She came on a bike," interrupted Helen, far more cheerfully this time. I smiled, feeling a little red, and confirmed that I had indeed.
Tony's hands rested on my hips, pulling me towards him. Our stomachs were touching ever so slightly, and his face was inches from mine. I felt myself turn an even deeper shade of red as I knew Helen was watching. "Looks like I'm gonna have to commit one more crime then, hm?"
Abruptly, he pulled away. Before I could protest, or reach for his hand, he bolted out the cafe at 100 miles per hour. I turned to Helen, my mouth hanging open, and laughed a little.
"Quick," she exclaimed. "He's going to take that little bike of yours!"
Realising that she was right, I said goodbye to her before dashing out of the cafe and racing round the corner. As I reached the bin, a loud screech made me jump three feet in the air. My mind went dizzy with confusion as I felt myself being pushed up against the brick wall, the smell of mint tickling my nose once again.
"Boo," Tony whispered, his words touching my lips like a feather. I swallowed thickly, raising my gaze until I found his eyes. He raised his hand, tucking my hair behind my ear, and bit his plump bottom lip. Again, I swallowed thickly.
"I think you're stalking me," I said bluntly, trying to mask the fact I was melting.
"I think you're wrong."
"I think you're a criminal."
"I think we're all a little crooked."
"I think I want to kiss you."
"I think I do too."
And with that, in one swift movement, Tony's head bowed and his lips captured mine.
Owen did not return to school until Thursday, a bright smile on his face and a new backpack slung over his shoulder. He’d went to Florida for an “extended weekend” with his family.
Picking apart my blueberry muffin, I listened fractionally to what Meg was wistfully talking about in my left ear. I caught a few keywords – idiot, egotistical, shitface – and quickly came to the conclusion that her brother had stolen the limelight yet again.
“Hey,” interrupted a familiar voice. I slowly tore my eyes off my food, glaring up at Owen with my tongue against the back of my teeth. He licked his lips and sat down, causing a whiff of strong cologne to roll over me.
“How are you?” He questioned lightly, opening his soda can and taking a small, polite sip.
“Okay,” I replied dryly.
“How has your day been?”
“Okay,” I repeated once again.
Owen cleared his throat, adjusting the collar on his polo shirt. “Are you alright? Have I done something wrong?”
Meg shifted uncomfortably at my side. “You didn’t think to tell me that we were dating?” I asked bitterly, averting my gaze to the shrinking lunch line. “Kind of sucked to hear it through the grape vine, to be honest.”
“I was going to-“
I waved my hand at him, lips pursed into a thin line. “Save it.”
"No, hear me out," he argued, running his fingers through his hair. "Look, I was just off my face. I was really drunk and I did plan to actually ask you, but I just-" He took a deep breathe. "I just wanted to tell everyone that I was going out with you there and then. You really are something to boast about, y'know."
"I'm not a fucking car," I retorted. "Just leave me alone from now on, please."
Owen scoffed, unrightfully, and stood up. “You know what? Fuck you,” he mumbled, features scrunched with anger. He grabbed his things and hurried off, murmuring some incoherent sentence about girls and expectations.
I sighed, crossing my legs under the table, and shoved a large bit of muffin in my mouth. Meg began to ramble on about how all guys were idiots, and how he was the king of assholes, and how she would kill to throw the school’s “Friday Surprise” stew over his head.
“Not all boys are bad,” I argued. “Just Owen Sullivans.”
“A-fucking-men,” said Elise, collapsing into the newly vacated chair. “I’m assuming you two spoke, then?” I nodded. “Well, that’s great. I'm going to kick him in the balls next time I see him."
"Why?" Asked Meg.
Elise shot her a look, like it was the most absurd question ever to be said. She flicked her perfect hair behind one shoulder, licking her lips like she was about to give a massive speech. She leaned towards Meg, hunching over the table, and narrowed her eyes. "Because he was an asshole to Kat, that's why."
I smiled, inwardly, and thanked Elise. She told me it's what friends do. I told her I was thankful that I had friends.
Scribbling down the formula for calculating potential energy, I let the evening sun cast a warm glow over my room. With my dad still away at work, and my homework almost complete, I let the different shades of orange and pink grab my attention. Out of my window, beyond the tree which partially obscured my view, pink clouds peppered the sky. Some were mirrors for vibrant shades of red and orange, whilst the smaller ones - which looked a lot like bits of fluff - let a gentle pink glow rest on them.
Being pulled out of my thoughts, I heard the house phone ringing downstairs. I dropped my pencil, army rolled off the bed, and darted down the stairs. Phone calls were exciting, especially when you were home alone.
"Crazed cereal killer, crazed cereal killer," I whispered, crossing my fingers behind my back. I lifted up the phone and, unfortunately, was not greeted by the voice of a psychopath. On the line was some woman with a thick Southern accent asking me If I'd like to buy some windows. I rejected, telling her that I could neither afford nor install such things, and then hung up.
As I turned to go back up the stairs, I felt something stop me. I took a slow step back and glanced towards the bowl next to the door, where the keys lay. I approached cautiously, like my dad had censors secretly placed around the hall to track my movements, and lifted them out. I then, whilst whirling them thoughtfully round my finger, slipped my Vans on. I'm going out, I guess.
Locking the door behind me, I made the decision to take my bike, as it would allow me to go further faster. I, after fighting with the rusty lock, finally got it out of the old shed. The breaks weren't great, and the beautiful teal colour had faded, but the wheels went round and that's all that mattered.
Once I got into a good rhythm, I was cruising down the empty streets with the sun's glow against my face. The clouds were still scattered across the sky, and I let myself admire them when along large stretches of straight road. As time went on, I became more and more thankful that my dad had to work. I needed the distance. I needed the break. I needed the escape.
Eventually, after pedalling for a good 20 minutes, I arrived at The Red Stool - a small cafe that sold the best cookies in San Diego. I left my bike behind one of the large grey bins, tucked behind an old cardboard box, and headed inside.
The Red Stool was a small place - the amount of customers never having exceeded 10 in my lifetime. The walls were decorated with old pictures of somewhere unspecified, but I'd asked when I was little and had been told that it was Wales. In the pictures, there were great rolling hills topped with snow. There were also a few of ragged mountains, barely visible from the overhanging fog. It was like an alternate world; I was in love with it.
"Kat," said the owner cheerily in a distorted Welsh accent, wiping down her apron as I approached. "What can I get you?"
"Oh nothing," I rushed, "I was just passing by. I decided to go for a cycle."
"Good for the legs," she winked. "Come on, have something. It's on the house."
"You don't have to," I ensured her. "Really, it's fine."
"Karina," she said in a warning tone, eyebrows raised to widen her soft grey eyes.
All of a sudden, I felt someone's arms wrap around me, lifting my feet off the ground. I got ready to fight them off, but stopped the minute I inhaled. The person smelled like mint. The person smelled like Tony.
"Young love," said the owner, rather dreamily, as she chuckled. The person put me back down and I instantly whipped myself round, almost falling into Tony as I did so.
"Helen," he said, placing one hand on my arm (to steady me) as he stepped closer to the counter, leaving me wedged between it and him. "I was wondering if I could talk to you about maybe doing another little gig in here sometime?"
"Gig?" I said, barely audible. Tony didn't hear me, or at least he didn't act like it; his eyes remained locked on her.
"Of course, that last one brought in good business," she said positively, her words igniting a flame in Tony's eyes. A wide smile came across his face, and then he looked down at me. I wondered if he had been watching the sunset too, because I could've sworn I seen it reflecting in his eyes.
"Hi," he whispered, rubbing my arm gently as he placed a soft kiss on my forehead. The smell of mint filled my lungs, and I struggled to remain standing as time went on.
"How are you doing at school?" Helen asked in a parental tone. Tony took a step back, causing a breeze to flood between us.
"Not great," he answered honestly. She then enquired about whether or not he'd been arrested lately, to which he denied. There was a long pause before he added, "well, I did, but not for anything serious."
"Just because you didn't murder someone doesn't mean it isn't serious," she argued. I turned to face Helen, who was giving Tony a firm scowl.
"I know," he said, head dropping and hands finding their way into his pockets. There was a moment of silence - of painfully long, awkward silence - before he looked at me. "Do you wanna go for a walk, or something?"
"She came on a bike," interrupted Helen, far more cheerfully this time. I smiled, feeling a little red, and confirmed that I had indeed.
Tony's hands rested on my hips, pulling me towards him. Our stomachs were touching ever so slightly, and his face was inches from mine. I felt myself turn an even deeper shade of red as I knew Helen was watching. "Looks like I'm gonna have to commit one more crime then, hm?"
Abruptly, he pulled away. Before I could protest, or reach for his hand, he bolted out the cafe at 100 miles per hour. I turned to Helen, my mouth hanging open, and laughed a little.
"Quick," she exclaimed. "He's going to take that little bike of yours!"
Realising that she was right, I said goodbye to her before dashing out of the cafe and racing round the corner. As I reached the bin, a loud screech made me jump three feet in the air. My mind went dizzy with confusion as I felt myself being pushed up against the brick wall, the smell of mint tickling my nose once again.
"Boo," Tony whispered, his words touching my lips like a feather. I swallowed thickly, raising my gaze until I found his eyes. He raised his hand, tucking my hair behind my ear, and bit his plump bottom lip. Again, I swallowed thickly.
"I think you're stalking me," I said bluntly, trying to mask the fact I was melting.
"I think you're wrong."
"I think you're a criminal."
"I think we're all a little crooked."
"I think I want to kiss you."
"I think I do too."
And with that, in one swift movement, Tony's head bowed and his lips captured mine.
Notes
SORRY FOR THE UPDATING BEING SO SLOW.
SCHOOL IS SO DEMANDING RIGHT NOW.
I LOVE YOU GUYS AND AM SO THANKFUL FOR THE SUPPORT THIS IS GETTING. LOVE YOU GUYS!
P.S.
DID I SAY I LOVE YOU GUYS ??
OMFG <3
7/6/15