01

5.2K 225 104

by rhapsodie

by rhapsodie

loser

It was April 23rd, and Ami was sat all alone on a torn-up leather seat in the corner of a room that was packed to the brim with preteens and soccer moms. She picked at the squishy yellow foam seeping from inside the seat, her chin settled in the palm of her left hand.

It was definitely not her ideal way of spending her twenty-first birthday, to put it simply.

It would have been a lot more fun if only her friends had actually showed up, but what did they care? Ami tried to convince herself that she didn't need close-knit friends to be happy in life, but it was days like this that proved otherwise.

She sighed heavily, glancing around at the scenery that garnished the chipping fluorescent walls.

There were droopy plastic plants strewn at various locations in the cluttered space, most being turned white from the amount of used gum that was stuck on the leaves' surfaces. The arcade at the far side of the room was whirring with life, its lights flashing bright and casting a light much stronger than the cheap tinted windows were. There were two kids wrestling on the floor, tugging at each others' shirts mercilessly and trying to get their parents to get upset with the other.

Ami stuck out in that place, and the realization made her wrap her arms around her body tighter than before. Exhaling deeply, her eyes scanned the room looking for something, anything to cure her infallible boredom. Soon enough, an unenthusiastic employee was calling her group into the demonstration room.

Underneath the black lights of the room, everything except for her dark hair and similarly-colored eyes lit up in a flurry of bright white. It was really quite dumb of her to wear a white t-shirt and light wash jeans, but that was Ami -- always making dumb decisions.

She paid no mind to the video at hand, instead raking her eyes over all of the glowing bodies that surrounded her. Ami tended to observe her surroundings when she became anxious or embarrassed. In this case, she was both.

She stopped looking however, when her eyes fixed on someone at the opposite end of the room.

His eyes were already locked on her, his arms crossed against his chest as he leant against the wall with a lazy smile strewn across his face.

Ami's face burned under his gentle scrutiny as she looked away from him, but she couldn't help but glance at the mysterious person opposite her every now and then.

If she were being honest, the first thing she'd noticed was his hair; a mop of what seemed to be bright red -- an uncommon hair color. It somehow suited him, though.

She did like his smile -- how it was dopey and cute and all-around lame in all the right ways.

Ami caught herself staring, then quickly averted her attention to the tiled floor beneath her. Soon enough, her view of the floor was obstructed by a pair of scuffed-up all-black converse.

She slowly lifed her head to meet the stranger's gaze, her heart beating erratically within her chest.

"Hi," he stuck out his hand. "I'm Michael. Can I ask you something?"

Ami shyly nodded at him, urging him to continue on as her heart lept within her chest.

"How do you like your eggs?" He innocently asked, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, nibbling at his bottom lip to keep his smile from leaking out of him.

"What?" Ami asked confusedly, wondering what kind of a question that was, even more confused as to why he needed to know how she liked her eggs?

Michael's cheeks reddened, awaiting the unveiling of his oh-so-clever pun.

"Fried, scrambled, or fertilized?"

And if Ami had thought she had experienced true embarrassment before that moment, then her views upon embarrassment were most definitely adjusted, post Michael's first irritating pun.

i can't sleep because my dad's at the hospital with my stepmom while she gets a ct scan so first chapter?? idk man