Boyxboy, watch out. On with the road.
***
"Okay, any reason why this is the only place this girl can possibly be? I mean if she has no iPod then why would she go for iTunes?" Damien smirked and shrugged in my direction.
"Because where was the last place she probably knew she had it?" I looked at him.
"In my bedroom?" Damien replied, cockily.
"Sober, Damien, sober," I didn't even look back to know he was glaring in my direction.
"I was sober," he told me, angrily.
"For a couple of years and then you became a rock star and got drunk. And had a one night stand with a girl you think you love but you have no idea what his name is," I mumbled, annoyed and looked behind me.
He was looking right back, "His name?"
"Her name. Whatever," I shrugged and groaned, a hint of heat staining my cheeks. I sighed and saw him observing me like I was a twelve year old on her first period... yeah, like I was some hormonal bitch, "Okay, Damien, what do you say to her when we meet her?"
"Who says we'll meet her?" he cockily questioned back.
"Who says we won't?" I come back with.
"You did, you said and I quote, 'This could possibly take days before we find her, Damien, so don't get your hopes up,' unquote," he blinked.
"Maybe I was wrong," I told him softly.
"But you have straight A's, or so your sister said," he replied.
"My sister has a stupidity disorder, and it doesn't matter which one you are talking about because they're both morons," I sighed, "So, if you meet her you'll...?"
"But you said..."
"NEVER MIND WHAT I SAID THEN!" I snapped and pivoted to turn around and get close to his face, "Damien, I'm helping you out. I am doing this out of the kindness of my own little gay heart so when some bicurious guy asks me to find his dream girls, I don't jump into the game. No, I'm being nice. So when I'm being nice, it can only last so long till I snap. So when I say jump, you say?"
"How high?" he looked almost uninterested.
"No, you do it. Don't ask questions, don't even say 'yes sir' or 'general' or even call me 'Mister Fierce'. Just do it," I growled and now he looked almost frightened.
"Yes, sir," he replied.
"Damien."
"Yes?"
"Shut up and walk faster," I ordered and he hurried forward.
I glared at his back as now I followed him. I was almost surprised how fast he caved in. I let this guy go on top of me. He's no dominant fellow, he's kind of a pussy. My cell rang soon as we came around the corner and I peeked at the text from Penelope.
I'm here, where are you and dream boy?
I'm around the corner, don't move in yet. I inhaled the smell of espreso and suddenly had a deep craving for coffee.
Then my pocket vibrated again. I retrieved my cell and glared at the message. Please, can I do a British accent? I sighed and texted back quickly: No, you don't sound like the Queen of England, you sound like freaking Elisa Doolittle so don't you even dare.
"Something happening?" I looked up to see Damien staring at me closely.
"No, my sister hit her head again with the wall. Nothing new?"
"With the wall? Wait, what that makes absolutely no sense."
"Yeah I know, but have you met my family. Oh wait you have, you've also slept in my bedroom as well."
"Your mom gave us permission," he told me, quietly.
I exhaled and looked down, "That whore is nothing more than a gold digger who stole my mother's face. Never ever call that bitch my mom, you got that?"
"Yeah, but isn't that a bit cold?" he asked me.
"You don't know her as well as I do," I shoved past him into the computer cafe and then grabbed the iPod out of Damien's hand and hurried inside. I looked around and called out, "Anyone in here named Cassy?"
Everyone looked at me and then at Damien who now drew his hood up over his head and his sunglasses on. No one answered and then Penelope stood up. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her. Her hair was curled gently down her shoulders and her eyes were ringed with kohl and white eye shadow. She wore an indie leather jacket and jean skirt. The click-clack of her cowboy boots ranged up as she walked up to us and grinned, "Hello, good chaps, you found my iPod!"
"You're British?" I asked, angrily and she glared me with a smile.
"Yes, my good fellow, why ask me such a peculiar question when it's so obvious?" I'm going to kick her ass so bad her children's children will be bruised.
"I didn't think that British people actually talk that way," Damien mumbled but was smiling, transfixed in her position. He smiled, "Do you remember me?"
"No," she smiled and looked at the iPod, "how on Earth did you know my name?"
"It's engraved at the side," I replied. She froze and stared at me, silently communicating, "What the fuck is that doing there?" I smiled and handed it to her.
Damien stared at me and his eyes actually shined. He smiled and grabbed her hand that wasn't around the iPod and clasped it onto the other, "I am so glad I have finally found you, Cassy, correct?"
"Found me, dear sir," I'm going to kill her, "What ever do you mean?"
"I was looking for the girl that stole my heart," he said, staring at her in complete trance.
"How kind?!" she said, breathless. I looked for a wall to hit myself with. My God, how could these two go Vanity Fair on me?
"Okay, sorry that was really cheesy... it's just I've been dreaming of you ever since I got this iPod. Oh, God, I sound like a creeper... I read the stories. No offence to your security. I read this passage that said, 'I'm alone on this Earth. Waiting for hell to creep onto the horizon but he stays hidden...'"
Waiting for weakness and when I finally fall to my knees, waiting for him to rush over my broken soul, it is not he. But she. Heaven cried out and swept over me like silk. Sparkling air, icy crystals fell down. Covering Earth, my Earth, with the heaven I never knew. That heaven was you.
I blinked and wondered how he remembered that poem. I barely remembered it, my mother once helped me on an English assignment; a stupid poem. This was the last thing my mother and I did together. A poem. Wow, and Damien thinks he's cheesy. Hear me.
She looked over Damien to me and then her eyes looked confused, almost lost when they connected with mine and then nodded. Damien looked at me and then at her, "I'm sorry," he coughed, "Can we meet again?"
She blinked at him, "Have we met before this?"
His eyes shined like stars when he smiled, "Maybe. Can we?"
"Tomorrow. Here at six."
He nodded, quickly, "I'll remember. Let's go home, John!" He was tugging me but I stay frozen and then shook my head.
"I have stuff to do. Go home, I'll meet you there," he was too happy to notice I was acting strangely and nodded, "Okay, see ya!" He rushed out and I looked after him until he left.
"John, that poem was really cute..." Penelope told me, softly. Her hand touched my shoulder and turned around.
"What in the hell was that?!" I snapped at her, "What was that, you've turned Cassy into a British hoe!"
She glared, "Who is Cassy?"
"An ex-girlfriend."
"Why do you have her iPod?"
"Stole it," I looked at her and smiled, "So, is he good looking enough?"
She nodded, quickly and blushed, "He's better looking than you. And he's a lot cuter too."
"No one's cuter than me," I muttered.
"John, a grizzly bear is cuter than you," she replied and totted away like the little three year old she was mentally. I grabbed my cell phone and stared at my reflection.
"Don't worry, you're a lot cuter than a grizzly bear," I told my reflection and smiled. When I looked up I saw people staring at me. I turned red as I left the coffee shop.
***
Long time, no see! Love ya!