My best and possibly only friend, Cassidy, was a traveller. Every holiday she'd be going to Spain or Australia, sometimes Turkey and then Italy; which all blessed her with the perfect natural tan. Cassidy was practically flawless, with dark brown hair always bunched up into a messy bun, eyes as emerald as evergreens, and rose coloured lips. She had two beauty marks on her face, one right under the outer corner of her eye and a classic Monroe style mark sat above the side of her mouth. She deserved the two beauty marks. She was gorgeous. And she was popular, which always raised the question of why I wasn't popular too- but sometimes I was glad. I wasn't much of a socialite, and I couldn't make easy, cool conversation enough. That guy... J, he was lucky I'd spoken properly to him for so long.
Strange.
With elbows leant on the small round table of the coffee shop, Cassidy continued her story, waving her left hand around while her right held her phone. She paused to drink her iced latte. "-So then she was all like, 'Uh, you know she likes you, right?' which was damn hilarious 'cause he was all, 'Uh, I hope so, she's my girlfriend' and then it was just like, she looked like she was roundhouse kicked in the face! It was so funny!" Cassie laughed, beaming her pearly whites. I smiled back in silent laughter. She sighed happily. "What did you get up to on the weekend?"
Fidgeting uncomfortably in my seat, I kicked my art portfolio closer to my left leg under the table. I took a sip of my coffee and I simply hummed. "Well..."
"Let me guess. You stayed indoors all day watching that series of yours. What was it... that, uh, Game of Hunger? No, wait, Hunger Games." She clicked her fingers, trying to recall the name.
"Game of Thrones." I said.
"Same thing."
I bit my lip. "Well actually, uh... I met somebody..." No, no, no, no, don't tell her, do not tell her!
"No way!" Cassidy grinned, admiring her matte peach manicured nails. "A guy? Was he cute?"
"Uh..." I thought about it for a moment. He was possibly- what- twenty three? Twenty five, maybe? I couldn't say he was 'cute'. And especially not with two massive scars stuck on his face- not to say he was ugly. He was more on the handsome side, but even then it felt... naughty to say so. I'd crushed on numerous fictional characters and celebrities old enough to potentially be my dad, but talking about a real, live person... felt out of place.
Cassidy raised a perfectly drawn eyebrow. "Hello, Stell?"
"Uh... he was more... good looking than cute..." I awkwardly replied, tapping my fingers on the table.
"Ugh, shut up. It's the same thing," She smirked. "How old was he?"
My stomach dropped and I refused to make eye contact with her. Oh my God. I couldn't tell her I met a fully grown man sat next to me on the bus!
"Dunno. Didn't ask." I shrugged.
"Name?"
"Um... no?"
"Uh, yes. Tell me. I wanna see if I can find him on Facebook."
My eyes widened. "No! I mean..." I sat back and shrunk into my seat. "I don't particularly... know that either..."
She glared at me. "You've gotta be kidding me. Stella, whoever you met, giving you unspecific info, could just very well be a pedophile or a rapist, y'know."
"I dunno... it's not like that..."
"Really? Did you walk together?"
"Um... at one point..."
"What time?"
I sucked my lip and forgot that I had to keep secrets. "I dunno, after midnight."
Cassidy jumped out of her seat in shock, slamming her hands on the table. "Stella!" She shrieked.
