Life After Losing You

Chapter 3: New Beginnings

"I'm so, so sorry! Are you alright? My dog, he's usually very good, I don't know what caused him to run off like that." I tensed; the boy's voice was incredibly soothing and masculine at the same time. Control yourself. I shook my head, attempting to sort out my enchanted thoughts. Keeping my eyes glued to the dog, I swallowed tightly and waved one hand dismissively.

"It's okay, no harm...no foul," I spoke quickly, hoping he'd brush me off and move on. This, was exactly the kind of uncomfortable interactions I'd been worried about.

"It doesn't look like it," unexpectedly, the boy ducked his head and captured my gaze squarely. Without being able to avert his gaze then, I snapped my attention up and felt my heart beat wildly due to the sudden close-proximity of our exchange. His eyes were the boldest blue-colour I'd ever seen and if I looked closer, I could've sworn they had flecks of glistening bright green within them.

Not gunmetal. Ocean. Oceanic blue.

"I..." I what? Confused, I looked down at my stinging knees since he was intensely staring at them with a worried expression colouring his handsome features. As soon as I examined them I winced, more so because they appeared a lot more beat up than they felt. I inspected the angry-looking scrapes running jaggedly along the surface with pebbles scattered around the slightly dripping cuts. I felt my stomach flip. Whether it was from the mystery guy's stare, or the gore, I was unsure.

"Oops," I whispered automatically. I really hadn't thought I'd fallen that badly. In truth, I blame myself for being so wrapped up in this guy's appearance to notice my protesting injuries. "Sorry..." I mumbled lamely, reaching down quickly to press the wounds with the sleeve of my windbreaker. I was not sure why I was sorry; I just had nothing else to say.

"Careful. Don't do that, or you might get an infection from the dirt." In an instant, the boy reached out to grasp my wrist, stopping my movement. Even through the material of my windbreaker, I could feel the odd comfort of his warm palm encircling my wrist. "And it's not your fault, I'm the sorry one," the boy laughed gently, flickering his incredible gaze up to meet mine. I couldn't help but chuckle slightly; his effortless laugh was infectious. "Look, I don't want to weird you out or anything and I promise I'm not some sleazy jerk hitting on you, but...I've got my truck just down the road with a first-aid kit that has your name on it," the boy smiled sympathetically and nudged his head toward the far edge of the sidewalk. "Besides... what kind of guy would I be if I just let a pretty girl limp home?"

"I thought you said you weren't going to hit on me?" I chewed my lip to hide my slight smile. I'm not sure what exactly came over me but I was being...witty.

"It slipped," the boy smiled meekly and patted Tyson's head. "Do you need a piggy back there?" He said, sounding... hopeful?

"Hardly," I crossed my arms and shook my head, still smiling as I trailed to his side.

"My name's Matt," the boy, or more so Matt, gave me a long look as we began walking slowly toward his car.

"Sophia," I replied after a moment.

Matt, I brushed the name through my mind, finding that I liked it.

* * *

Matt had one of those older, full of character trucks with travel and skateboard stickers plastered to his back window. Unlike most teens with shiny and expensive cars at my old prep school, Matt's truck seemed to be full of life and full of irreplaceable memories. Sitting on his open trunk bed, and looking back at the countless stickers, I wanted to ask him about them. However, I distantly realized that I had already dug myself into a deeper hole than I should have. It was completely unfair for me to even begin to become friends with Matt if I knew sooner or later, he'd figure out how messed up I am. Nobody needed to get tangled up with damaged goods, or more importantly, wanted to.