Straighter than Parallel Parking

≈ f i v e ≈

Janice was just really hoping that her brother felt patient today, since she was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, looking from exit to exit. Finally, she saw a familiar blue civic gradually driving into the busy parking space, and she ran in an awkward type of jog (where you're trying not to look in too much of a hurry but you goddamn need to) to the car.

The driver's door opened just as Janice begins with an, "Oh, my god, finall--" Janice cuts herself off when she realizes that the driver in front of her isn't her brother, even though the car's are identical.

The driver just so happens to be James.

Janice internally groans, as if her good luck for the day had been spited in some form. It is humiliating enough when she's accidentally been giving sarcastic replies to everything he said, a habit of where she acted before she thought and which resulted in her biting her tongue until she felt a sliver of blood, the tangy taste still not enough for the maelstrom of thoughts blurting through closed lips.

"Janice, right?" he asks her, and it hits her that she's standing right in front of his car still. "Hey, anything wrong?"

Instead, she finds her nervousness turning to a distant air of offhand comments. It was kind of like her mask; the face to hide her real vulnerability. "I feel like every time we end up holding a conversation I'm saying sorry for something."

James closes the door to his car and steps out, and Janice is still struck by how tall this guy is. How a giraffe fit into this small car, she'll never understand. He waves a hand, as if to dismiss the notion of her apology. "You're forgiven. It's fine. But did you need anything?"

She shakes her head, somehow still making herself not dislocate her jaw because of how Abercrombie delicious this guy is. "It's my fault; your car looks like my brother's and I've been looking for him. He was supposed to pick me up around," she checks the watch on her wrist, since punctuality is kind of her admiration, "fifteen minutes ago. I guess I got the wrong address."

"Why don't you call him?" James suggests, and Janice lets the ghost of a smile show before it disappears.

"My phone's dead and I've called him again using the pay-phone, but he's been busy. Don't know how, since his friend circle's usually got a life, unlike him. Now I don't have any quarters left to use."

"Ah," James said. "I could give you a lift, if you want?"

Janice instantly declines, though her heart's screaming at her 'brother? we had a brother? I don't see him! accept request!' and while she'd love to follow her heart, her mind's taking the logical route for once. Took her 17 years and a couple months, but it's happening. "Thanks, but I'd hate if he came and ended up waiting on me."

James nods, and he can't help but cross his arms against his torso, a little disappointed. What did you think was going to happen? he asked himself sarcastically. Her to jump you in gratitude? Okay, so maybe his fantasy kind of involved something along those lines, but reality always seemed to be a dream killer. "Do you want me to help you find him?"

"As nice as that would be, I really don't want to bother you," Janice said.

James nods, even though his disappointment seemed to grow. "Cool. Tell me how it goes, then. My shifts over, so if you need to call me, get two quarters ready." His eyes sparkle with amusement, but Janice's sparkle with an idea.

"Actually," Janice said slowly. "There's one way you can help."

__________________________________________

JAMES HAS AN ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL PHONE, is the first thought that goes through Janice's mind as she holds the aforementioned mobile, which she'd asked if she could borrow. She restrains herself from caressing the gorgeous smoothness of the screen, and punching into the keypad Karlo's number. As the phone began ringing, she brought it to her ear, almost moaning over how clear the audio was, opposed to her own phone's scratchy quality.