FAME│s.m

two

"Woah," Calissa mutters from beside me, running from behind the cash register to the front doors of our diner. It was 2 days after our chat about her little soccer obsession.

My eyebrows lift as I notice a red Range Rover make a weird and very loud bang sound as it comes to an abrupt stop. The driver stays put for a bit, cursing at his car, hitting the steering wheel.

When he finally steps out, my breath instantly hitches.

"No way!" Calissa shrieks, racing outside, toward the car.

"Calissa!" I call out, chasing after her. I'm able to wrap my arms around her waist, holding her back before she could pounce on the young boy. I look up at his face, a soft chuckle slipping past his lips.

"You must know me," he says, continuing to make his way to the front of his vehicle.

"Oh, do I-" I slap Calissa's shoulder, silencing her.

"I'm sorry for bothering you," I sigh. "Go back into the diner and tell my dad to get the tow truck," I tell Calissa, watching a frown form on her face as she has to walk away from one of her favorite soccer stars.

"Fine," she grumbles, heading back to the restaurant.

"Piece of shit," he spits towards the engine. I could no longer see his face as the hood of the car was blocking it- I move around it, able to make eye contact with him once again.

"Need some help?" I ask, moving my eyes to the transmission.

"Yeah," he replies, "kinda," he adds with a nervous chuckle.

"My dad can pull it over to our shop and fix it up for you," I offer.

"That's fine," he denies, shaking his head. I feel his eyes staring at my side profile, but I don't move my gaze. "You don't need to do that," he adds, hoping that I'll glance at him.

"No, it's alright," I retort. "We can do it."

"Are you sure?" he questions.

"Yes," I respond with a smile, finally looking up at him again. He gives me a toothy smile, my stomach no longer feeling at ease.

His eyebrows knit into amusement, his arms crossing over his chest as he tried his best to look cool. "Do you know who I am?" he teases.

I avert my eyes to my feet. "Sadly," I whisper.

"What was that?" he asks, leaning forward.

"Uh, I said sort of," I reply quick as I leap my attention back to his face, which shimmered in the sunlight.

"Sort of?" he quizzes.

"Well, I know of you. But I don't know much," I explain.

"My name?"

"Simon Minter," I reply with hesitation as I was growing uncomfortable.

He nods slowly. "My profession?"

"Soccer."

"Team?"

"SidemenFC?" I responded with a twist of a question because I really couldn't remember for some reason.

"Nice," he chuckles, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "You a fan?"

"Not really," I respond.

"And why not?"

"Dunno," I mumble with a shrug. He places a finger under my chin, tilting my head back.

"You think I'm an asshole, don't you?"

My heart melted at the sight of his ocean blue eyes, his dimples indenting in his cheeks as a smile lifts them up.

"You smile a lot," I say in awe, my tone of voice accidental. "Sorry- gah... I'm such a girl," I giggle, embarrassed, removing my chin from his finger.

"Eh, that's what I do when I see someone who's as beautiful as you." Oh, he's smooth, I thought to myself.

All I can do is give a giddy smile, brushing my hair behind my ear, my cheeks flushing pink.

"It's time for your ointment, Amari!" I hear Calissa shout. Now my cheeks blush red, my eyes widening.

"Ointment?" Simon chuckles.

I turn to where I heard Calissa's voice, shouting back threats.

"Come and get me then, biotch!" she calls.

I turn to Simon, still embarrassed as ever, "I'll be right back," I say with an angry smile before sprinting towards the diner.

Calissa screams as I get near, running for cover. I pounce on her back, turning her so I could pin her down.

"We finally get lucky enough to have a cute boy break down in this small ass town and you just have to embarrass me with that stupid ass joke, don't you," I growl, getting close to her face.

"I'm sorry," she says through her maniacal laughter.

"But you're really not," I retort.

"Not in the least bit," she admits, giggling.

The bell that tells us when a new customer has entered the diner rings, but I don't stop.

"Please just let me have this boy," I beg.

Her face turns serious. "He's a soccer player who wouldn't give two shits about having a girlfriend, so good luck with that."

I don't know what came over me, but my hand rose and fell against her cheek, anger bubbling out of my ears and nostrils.

A pair of strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me off of my best friend. I don't fight back, I allow them to hold me back.

"I'm sorry-" I start with my apologetic eyes pointing directly to Calissa's watering ones.

"Talk to me when reality hits you," she spits, storming toward the back of the restaurant, shoving the swinging door open with the palms of her hands, and disappears into the kitchen.

My body relaxes, the arms finally letting me go.

"You alright?" the voice from before questions. I turn to him, embarrassed yet again.

"Yeah," I reply with a rough voice, pushing past him and out of the diner.