When I woke up today, Alice and Alex had gone to school, Dad and Claudia to work.
There was just Grandma Mary-Alice sitting on her rocking chair in the living room, drinking some chamomile-flavoured tea.
"Hi Grandma," I said, kissing her on the cheek.
"Hi sweetpea, how was your night?"
"It was good. I slept like a baby." I sat on the couch.
"Honey, would you mind if I asked you a favor?"
"Not at all, Grandma. What's up?"
"Remember where I live? You know, in front of the gardens?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Well, I need you to go there and bring me some clothes."
"Um, Grandma, don't you have enough clothes now? You've been living quite some time now with Dad and Claudia."
"Yes, but I've already worn all of my outfits. I can't wear the same outfit twice, it will embarass me in front of the girls."
"Fine, Grandma."
***
I stopped the car and looked around. Holy crap, there was nowhere to park.
I just parked in front of another car. Too bad for the owner of the other car, anyways, he'll have to wait till I come back with Grandma's clothes.
***
When I went down, holding a bag with a couple of dresses and skirts and tops for Grandma, there was a man standing at his car, his arms crossed on his chest.
He had light brown hair and wore sunglasses. He was thin, muscular.
I unlocked my car, without a word to the man that was about my age, or maybe a bit older.
I noticed him take off his sunglasses, revealing his green eyes, and walk towards me.
"That car yours, Miss?" he said, his voice deep.
"Yep, it's mine," I replied with a sigh.
"A 1960 Ford Mustang. Wow."
"Wow?" I asked, his eyes meeting mine.
"Yeah. A bit of careness and cleaning and it'll be new again. We haven't met, I'm Barrett Woodstock."
"Emily Miller."
I glanced at Barrett's car. It was a shiny, brand new Mercedes.
"Nice car. How old are you to drive it?"
"I'm nineteen. I'm a pre-med student. You?"
"I'm eighteen. Will be tomorrow, at least."
"You live around here?"
"Nope. I live in New York. I came here to visit my dad."
"Oh. I see. Your parents split up?"
"A long time ago. He remarried. My mom's newly engaged too."
"I see. Anyway, I'm sorry. But let me make it up to you."
"Make what exactly up to me?" I smiled. Barrett was nice. I know I shouldn't talk to strangers about my personal life, but who cares? How am I supposed to make friends?
"Whatever. It was just a reason to take you out for dinner tomorrow night. For your birthday. My little finger told me it was tomorrow?"
I swallowed with difficulty. Had he just asked me out? For dinner?
YOU ARE READING
New York, the big apple of my heart
RomanceThe story of Emily Miller, 17, lives in New York, a perfectly normal life. Not. A mother who couldn't care less about her, a best friend who is the only person that understands her...Everything was relatively fine until there were two men killing ea...
