The Story of Everybody Else

Love hits hard

How many hours had passed? Three? Four? I don’t know. All that I am certain of is that we’re not yet where we’re supposed to be.

I felt something warm against my cheek. It smelt of ocean breeze mixed with a tincture of rainforest and sunshine meadow. I clung onto it a little and breathe in the scent deeply until it was forever etched in my memory.

“Enjoying yourself too much, little miss?” an overly familiar strange voice woke me up from my fantasy.

I opened my eyes and looked up. Oh my shitpants, I’m literally leaning onto Ed’s chest. I cringed and bowed my head. I could feel my face burning in shame. “I’m sorry. You should’ve pushed me away.”

He just looked away and shrugged. “I don’t mind. You were sleeping like a rock anyway.”

After that, there was an awkward silence. And that was the last thing I wanted in this universe.

“Uhm, hey, Ed, you can call me Trina.” I said, looking up to him with an outstretched hand waiting for acceptance.

He just hummed and nodded his head.

I got heartbroken. Wow, a rejected handshake from a stranger. I was about to put my hand away when he suddenly grabbed it.

“Just kidding pal. Nice to meet you, Trina.” He smiled and shook my hand gently. I was quite amazed at how smooth a man’s hand is.

“Oh, I thought you’re mad at me for sleeping on you. I’m so sorry. Jeez, I’m so embarrassed right now.”

“I can see that. It was all over your face.”

I pouted and snorted at him. “Just stop teasing me, I don’t like being teased.”

“Oh, feisty. Okay woman, I won’t. I’m harmless. I swear to God.” He said as he raised both of hands in defeat.

I smiled at his foolishness. “You’re such a boy trapped in a man’s body, aren’t you?”

“Well, maybe, I’m still a boy after all.” He ran his fingers onto his messy black locks. I just realized that his hair was already touching his shoulders and his bangs were on his line of sight. And his beard was showing signs of growth. Rouge. Dirty. Feisty?

“And man, how badly you need a haircut.” I critiqued.

“And a shave.” He sighed.

 I frowned at his reaction. “So, what’s the story behind the caveman’s appearance?”

“I just got out of prison.”

 My jaw dropped at his sentiments. I mentally leveled up my guard against the stranger whom I now referred as ‘Ed’.

“Prison? Why?" and then, it hit me. "Please spare my life. I don’t have any pennies and I was born a hermaphrodite.”

For a moment, we stared at each other…hard…stone hard.

 Then we cracked up.

“S-seriously, you? A hermaphrodite?! What do you think of me? A rapist?” he said in between laughter.

I was slamming my fist against my elbow rest and laughed hard at my own joke.

“Oh my God, that was hilarious. I couldn’t wait to tell that to my mom.”

The bus stopped midway so the driver could get a rest for a while. We decided to go out and grab a bite to a nearby diner.

“Okay, I’m not really a fugitive. I’m a writer, on leave.” He said before he savaged his three patty thick burger.

“And I’m neither in between. Thank you very much. I’m very comfortable being a woman.” I said as I munched my Caesar salad.

 “Okay, so I’m a journalist working on this small time company back in the city. I’m going home for thanksgiving. How about you Trina?”

“I just got a job in McKane Hospital. End of story.”

“What are you? A doctor? Dr. Trina? Sounds awful.” He scoffed jokingly then finished the last of his gigantic meal.

I paused for a moment and tugged some of my brown hair behind my ear.

“I just quit medschool for this job.”

Ed spat out everything he just put in his mouth. Some of it got on to my hair. Yuck.

“Excuse me.” I said and hurriedly went to the ladies room.

I removed my clamp and washed my hair in the sink. In the freaking sink! I rubbed it hard until I was satisfied and used my jacket as a towel substitute. After combing, I decided to let it gone loose for a while.

My dark eyes matched the color of my hair which went beyond the inferior border of my scapula. I liked to keep my natural curls the way they are, messy and voluminous.

Like my life, my own colors are ironic. The darkness of my eyes and hair overwhelm the fairness of my complexion. I got the recessive trait from my gene pool, that was why I grew up being petite.

Petite. It hides my age - a weapon of my own advantage.

I walked back to the table where we sat but I couldn’t find a black haired dude or an “Ed.” I guess he was eaten by the dirt to his shame. So I decided to go back to the bus without him.

The moment I got out of the diner, three lovely daisies and a kneeling black haired weirdo greeted me.

“I’m very very sorry. Please accept my apology.” He looked up to me with his puppy eyes, poring all over.

“I-I…” I was speechless.

To my surprise, he grabbed my hand and locked onto his. With the flowers in between, of course.

I felt my cold heart thumped heavily against my chest for the first time. 

That moment, I could feel that the world revolved just for Ed and I.

“Please…” he pleaded, his voice sounded gently to my ears. I noticed that he put his hair up on a pony, giving me a good view of his features.

He has squinty deep set green piercing eyes against lengthy black lashes and thick brows; his chiseled nose and jaws perfectly synchronized with his thin, red lips. He was like a runaway rogue and I was his damsel in distress.

 “I…accept.”

And that was the moment I fell in love on the way to McKane County.