Des was teaching the man on the streets a handshake. He was rather attractive, had to be in his early twenties, maybe five or six years older then Des herself.
He was thin, and tall, with black hair that often fell in his dark eyes, and had a rugged handsome look.
"No, no, like this." Des demonstrate the handshake, and the man attempted to do it, mumbling, "I never was good at this shit." Des was pretty sure he was drink, because she was doubtful of the fact that any sober 21-year-old would learn a handshake with some 17-year-old girl he had met on the streets.
He finally shook his head, sitting down on a nearby bench. Des sat down as well, imagining the horrified looks on her friends faces if they saw this.
He watched a couple walk past, and Des tried not to smile as his right arm fell along the back of the bench behind her.
His gaze flickered to her, "Want a smoke?"
Des nodded and the young man handed her a cigarette, lighting it.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye, never having done this before, and she watched as he lit his own.
Being cigarette to mouth, inhale, take cigarette away, exhale.
Des copied him, and she tried not to cough. He didn't seem to notice her clearing her throat, as he continued to watch people walk by.
"You know," he drawled, "the worst thing that I cannot stand?"
"What's that?" Des said as she breathed out more smoke, cigarette held between her first two fingers. She mentally applauded herself for how mature she seemed.
He continued, "People thinking they know you."
Des nodded, "Ain't that right."
He looked at her, frowning. "Even worse though is pity. Like they're such good folk, like I've made some kinda mistake."
Des swallowed, and she looked over at him. The man's hair had fallen over one eye, giving him a wild, handsome look.
"You know, one day, I'm going to see the world," the man exhaled smoke, and Des watched it slowly disappear as he continued, "One day, I'm going, getting out of here. I'm shaking the dust of this awful town, and I'm gone."
"Then what?" Des said.
"Ah, then, it doesn't matter does it. Who cares? I'm going to Italy, Japan, France, everywhere."
Des grinned. "Sent me letters, will you?"
He chuckled, "maybe I will, or maybe ten years from now, I'll find you. I'll be the richest man in the city, the congressmen will be licking my shoes."
Des smiled, looking back at the flickering light above a closed shop.
"Des!" A group of girls were standing a ways back, their shocked eyes flickering between Des to the man who was now watching them critically, to his arm around her.
"Des! Get over here, we're going home!" said Nancy, who's eyes were on the cigarette in Des's hand.
Des bit her lip, and looked at the man, "That's my ride home."
He Nodded and withdrew his arm. "Course. You better go."
Des smiled at him, and stood up, grinding the cigarette under her shoe.
"Bye" Des called to the man, as she turned.
He lifted two fingers in a slight wave, or maybe a salute, and he said lazily "Thanks, sweetheart. I felt a lot less lonely tonight."
Des bit the side of her cheek to keep from smiling more, and headed down the dirty street, leaving her friends begins who were staring at the man but they soon clustered around her.
"Who was that?"
"You could have been kidnapped!"
"Were you smoking??"
"He was cute!"
"You could have been raped!"
"He was not cute, Sasha! He was at least twenty!"
"Did he give you that cigarette, Des?"
"Make sure you have your money, and your purse, and-"
"Just because your into geeky, immature teenage boys, Nancy, doesn't mean all of us are!"
"-and your wallet, and your house keys."
"You could have been murdered!"
"Des, did he try anything on you? I swear, you never should have wandered off!"
Des ignored them as she looked back. He was still sitting there, looking amused as he watched them, an eyebrow raised.
She bit her lip to keep from smiling yet again, and Faced the front once more, her friends still chattering on.
Des breathed in the summer air, promising herself that she would always remember the night she had a smoke with a handsome stranger, who like herself, longed for an escape from this world.
