Soft music hums throughout the Starbucks. I wait patiently for James to return with my drink , in the mean time I watch as girls pass by with ripped signs that say some witty thing about James's brother Kyle. My whole face feels itchy from all the makeup I'm wearing. It's not really a lot of makeup I just haven't worn this much in so long and it's making my face irritated.
James finally returns holding two drinks and a couple of baked goods under his arms.
"I got a chocolate croissant and a cake pop if you want some." He says politely handing me over the bag.
I take a bite of the croissant and instantly my taste buds are demanding more, but to not seem like I am a complete pig I resist myself to only a couple of bites for now.
"How are you Charlie?" James asks.
"I'm doing good"
Lie. Nothing is good right now except for this croissant.
"How are you?" I return my focus back on his well being.
"I'm good. Everything is just a bit hectic right now."
"You got that right" I laugh.
"It's football season so that's pretty much my number one priority"
"You play football?" He might have mentioned this to me before but it wouldn't be a surprise if I was off in my own head while he was talking.
"Yeah." He scratches the back of his neck nervously.
"It's not really my thing but you know my dad, hah." He says likes it's no big deal. I feel bad for James, his dad sounds like the kind of guy to always push him to do things that he couldn't do.
"Did your dad play football in college?" I ask just to be sure I can confirm my thoughts with my already presumable assumptions.
"No he couldn't. He played in high school but over summer before college he got into a car crash and was told he could never play again. So instead of becoming the star football player, he went ended up becoming the coach."
Exactly what I was thinking. His dad couldn't be the star football player so now he's practically forcing it down James's throat so he can live out his dream.
"And what do you want to do?" I ask but by the look on his face he doesn't get at what I'm saying.
"I mean instead of playing football. What do you want to do?" I stress.
He takes a couple of minutes to think through his response, almost like he's been waiting for someone to ask him this question for the longest time.
"I want to be a doctor. Everything about science and medicine is just so interesting. Right now all my dad is really focusing on is football, not really about what I want to be. He just thinks for himself sometimes." He pauses, "I'm so tired of football. Why can't I have an easy hobby to do like chess or something?" he says off the top of his head.
"Chess?" I try hard not to laugh.
"Well not exactly chess but yes an easier hobby to do. I'm so sick of running and catching a ball and waking up at 5 am. It's all so tiring and I'm just done. " He lets out a big breath.
"Wow I feel like whenever we talk I'm always the one talking. You're starting to become my therapist." He laughs and I fake a smile.
So Harry's not the only one that notices that I don't talk about myself.
"There's nothing really about me. I moved here to start a new beginning and here I am trying to pursue it. Life back in Oregon was just " I pause trying to find a word to describe my past, "shitty." I laugh at my poor choice of words.
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Burn // h.s
Fanfiction“You kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire. He had wondered once why love was always phrased in terms of burning. The conflagration in his own veins, now, gave the answer." She's the candle that cannot burn without his flame. He's the fir...
