A sweet girl who sees the good in everyone.
A grumpy guy who just wants everyone to fuck off.
A chocolate milk accident that's brings them together.
Secrets.
Lies.
A dark past.
What could possibly go wrong? Or right?
Maybe a love story.
Or s...
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My helmet is secured tightly on my head as I ride my blue bike that my grandma gave me on my 12th birthday.
It's from the 70's so I'm surprised it still works.
It has tassels hanging from the handle bars and wheels almost bigger than my entire body.
Elyse is always telling me I should get a new bike. It breaks like once a month and she's scared it'll break down on me when I'm riding it on the sidewalk or crossing the street.
My stomach starts to hurt again when I pass by a small boutique.
I wave to a women reading a magazine on a bench in front of it. She looks up and smiles kindly. "Hello, Althea, dear,"
"Hi Mrs. Peter. How you doing today?" I slow my bike down and stop, using my leg to hold it up but not getting off.
"Oh, same old, same old. Mr. Peter broke his hip," she shakes her head. "old dumb bastard," she mutters. "I love him to death but he has to get his act together. I told him not to be dancing in the shower when I'm not home!"
I try to hide my smile. Mrs. and Mr. Peter have been together for 50 and a half years, in counting. Mrs. Peters used to teach my dad and my mom when they were younger but retired when she got Arthritis.
Poor women.
"Well I'm about to head up to Craig Street corner store to visit Freddy B. Jones. I have to give him his chocolate milk". I pointed to the chocolate milk in the basket in front of my bike.
Mrs. Peter's happy expression changed into great concern. "That street is nothing but bad. I don't want you going up there alone"
I smile "I'm always over there. No one ever bothers me. I'll be fine. I promise"
Mrs. Peter still looks unsure but she finally, reluctantly, nods and after one lingering stare, she goes back to reading her magazine.
♡︎
I rode up the hill that led to Craig streets corner store. My legs were on fire and I was so out of breath by the time I got to the top, that I fell over onto the sidewalk and just laid there, catching my breath.
My tummy still hurt and I knew it would be a couple of hours before I digested that darn pink ice cream.
Oh why strawberry gods!
Good lord, I'll never get used to that hill.
I sat up and rested my arms on my bent legs and watched as a few cars passed by before brushing off my pants, standing up, (with a dramatic sigh of course) and picking up my bike.
When I looked up my gaze immediately fell on a man sitting on the curb of the corner store.
