Unexpected Love

Unexpected Love 15: Does anything ever happen in Sheffield?

 THANK YOU to jjackieeex for the wonderful cover!!

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         I was walking down Bleeker Street in Manhattan. I would have rather been walking down Oxford Street in London, but that couldn’t be helped now. My parents had decided that the Thanksgiving holidays were best spent in New York, as it wasn’t as far away as London. As tempted as I had been to throw a fit in protest, as I had been counting down the days until we got to go back to London, the main point was that I got out of Sheffield. I sighed, waiting for the streetlight to change.

            I noticed a group of four guys looking at me, but tried to ignore them. They looked like they were in their early twenties. I pulled my trench coat closer around me.           

            Suddenly one of them tried to get my attention. “Gemma?” he asked, walking towards me. Talk about small world: it was Nick’s brother, Chris.

            I floundered a bit at first, but then flashed smile. I didn’t necessarily want to see anything or anyone that reminded me of Nick, but Chris had been nice when we met. “Chris? Hi.”

            “What are you doing in New York?” Chris asked.

            “Oh, my family is here on holiday. Do you study here?”

            “Yeah, I go to NYU. How have you been?”

            “Fine, I suppose. Nothing really new. But then again, does anything ever happen in Sheffield? How are you?”

            “I’m great. Here, let me introduce you to some friends of mine. This is Tom, Andrew, and Craig. Guys, this is Gemma.”

            I shook everyone’s hand and smiled. “So where are you headed?” Chris asked her.

            “Oh, no where in particular. I’ve been wandering around, soaking up the real world,” I said, smiling at my own insult to Sheffield.

            “We’re on our way to get some coffee, want to come?”

            “Sounds great,” I answered after a moment’s hesitation, and the five of us took off to a café.

            “So, where do you know Chris from?” Craig asked me.

            “Oh, I live in the town where Chris grew up.”

            “You look a bit younger than us, and you’re British, does that make any sense?”

            “I moved to Sheffield this past year from London. And you’re right, I’m seventeen. I suppose the more honest answer of how I know Chris is that I used to date his younger brother.”

            “Oh. Used to?”

            “Let’s not talk about this.” Chris interjected.

            “Is that your real eye colour?” Tom asked me.

            “Yes,” I asked, shifting in my seat uncomfortably.

            “Are you serious? That’s amazing. Are you a model?”

            I frowned slightly. “No, I’m not. I’m a photographer though.”

            “You should be a model. You’re a real photographer, or is it just a hobby?”

            “I got paid to photograph in London, and every summer in Paris I work at a photographer’s studio.”