The Upside Of Us

Part 1

I love the smell of rain.

The damp earthy smell wrapping itself into me like a fuzzy blanket.

I want to linger in the smell as long as I can. I smile in thought of getting under my blankets with a book snuggled to my chest and hearing the droplets drop one by one.

I want to do just that. Just not tonight.

I shiver, god it's windy out tonight. My cheeks feel like icicles.

I don't think I'd change anything about New York except maybe it's freezing temperatures in the winter. Oh, and tiny old cat lady Ms. Marg who loves to yell profanities early in the morning on my way to school.

And yes the bagels are that good, good enough to die for. I think there's cocaine in them sometimes. Like why are they so damn good.

I push through the glass door, snuggling my bag close to my chest. I inhale, smiling at the familiar smell of Martha's cafe.

My special spot. My safe haven.

I found it one night when I couldn't sleep, just pure coincidence. I'd like to believe it's one of New York's hidden gems and only the lucky ones are able to find it.

I gaze around until my eyes land on my table, it's located perfectly in the back. A tad bit hidden, with a clear view of the outside as it rains.

I fist pump in my head, so happy it's empty.

Wait. It's not empty.

Its occupied. Very very occupied. I see long sturdy legs stretched out. God they must be tall.

Fuck it. I might make a new friend.

I approach the table and take a seat across from them. Whoever it is looks like they are sleeping. With their head tucked into their arms.

Hints of curly brown hair peek through the strangers long arms.

I lean closer, to inspect. Wow, they smell good.

I yelp, startled  as the stranger lets out a groan. The stranger lifts their head, omg it's a boy.

He rubs at his eyes lazily until they land on me. Deep grey clashes with my dark brown ones. His lashes are so long theres shadows of them on his cheeks. Not fair.

Gosh. He's pretty. No like lose your breath pretty.

He's got the softest looking brown hair, it falls messily on his forehead and over his eyes. Slightly wet from the rain. I have the strongest urge to touch it but I clench my hands into fists to stop.

I go to speak, when his deep voice sets in.

"Fuck off," He's glaring at me like I stubbed his toe.

I skip over that, "Hi. I'm Mila. I tend to come here a lot. It's hard to make friends, I don't know if you can relate to that but yeah. I saw you sat here all alone, which by the way is my table. No worries though I don't mind sharing. So would you like to be my first coffee table friend?" I hope he says yes. I anxiously wait for his answer.

His jaw clenches, "I said fuck off, go find another table." His face is so unexpressive, his grey eyes looking so bored.

"B-But this is my table, I always come here," And it's true I really did and I just told him that.

Was he listening?

"I don't care. Leave." his voice is distracting, it's so gravelly and deep.