His only reason (Emblem 3 fanfic)

His only reason (Emblem 3 fanfic) - Chapter 5

I observed the girls plastered among the street corner. There were about 200 people in total, and guaranteed more arriving shortly. They were all dressed in over sized north faces and short UGG boots, distracted by a tube of eyeliner or combing out their perfectly straightened hair.

I led a finger through my thick curls, tightening my grip on Demetri’s arm. He turned back towards me, leading me straight towards the middle of the line, and smiled. “Nervous?”

I wasn’t necessarily nervous. The thought of being trapped in a small cafe with dozens of girls jumping on top of my shoulders just to see this mystery band definitely interested me. I’d much rather be at home, staring out the window. Or perhaps back at that Starbucks cafe with the boy with the deep green eyes from Penn Station, or  with ‘Wesley’. I shook my head no.

“You shouldn’t be, it’ll be a fun night. Three cute boys performing on stage, can you at least show me you’re a little bit excited?” I looked up at his questioning gaze, and smiled. “I am, you just nearly scared me half to death, that’s all.”

“Why were you even panting? You weren’t going to be late, if that’s why you were in a rush. Can I have a sip?” I raised an eyebrow, confused. He nodded down at my left hand, where my tea was nearly pouring out the rim of my cup. There was a small trail of tea leading up to our spot. I handed him the cup, without hesitation.

The line began to move upwards. I stood silent as Demetri finished up my cup, staring at the ground in front of me. I still couldn’t get my mind off of the man that approached me earlier, at the street corner. Of course I knew the city was a dangerous place- I never said it was a safe haven. But usually if you looked like you knew where you were going, and kept to yourself, there wasn’t much trouble. That is, given you were in the ‘right area’.

Before my father’s death, and the incident on the train, we’ve only ran into trouble once. That was a few years back, a poor black man approached us in a parking lot before we headed off to a restaurant for a late night dinner. New York is the place where you can truly be yourself, and being different is what makes you succeed, but that’s not always the case.

My father was your typical land surveyor, and worked in the city from the early hours until late night. That night, thankfully we didn’t run into trouble, and just walked away. But it just shows being different isn’t always accepted everywhere you go. When I say we were good off, that’s exactly how we were. We could afford our bills, go shopping sometimes, and eat out a few times a month. But we were no where near rich.

I’m different. Which goes against what I was thinking earlier, that I’m nothing out of the ordinary. But that’s exactly the opposite of what people see about me. If I was ordinary, I would’ve ordered that green chai from Starbucks, straightened my hair into perfect soft stands and be skinny enough to wear over sized flannels. I’m Nadine. The girl who falls in love for boys I’ve spoken to for ten minutes, the hopeless author. “Nadine, look!”

I left my thoughts and looked back at Demetri, who was shaking the cup up and down, and the crowd of girls around us swarmed towards the entrance, screaming. “Are we going in?” I asked, standing on my tippy toes, trying to see why they were crowding. “No, look at who’s over there, let’s go!”

Demetri left my side and ran towards the crowd, but I stood alone, watching from afar at stared. From my spot, I could see three boys making their way through to the entrance of the venue. Once they turned, my jaw dropped. There, was the boy from Penn Station. Hair perfectly brushed out of his face now, a huge smile plastered on his face. His awkwardness and shyness left, and all I could see was a confident teenager, clearly enjoying all the woman attention he was receiving. But next to him, I saw someone I never thought I would. A tall, frowning man. The boy with the big brown eyes from Starbucks, who looked up and met my stare. He furrowed his eyebrows, but kept his gaze until he was pushed into the building.

“Wesley,” I whispered, stepping back, and turning to walk back down the street. 

Author's Note: The next chapter, I wrote it today, is the best one by far. If I get 3+ comments I'll post it tomorrow. If not, it'll be up friday :)