Desperate

2

Arabella

Last night Cole messaged me, he seemed rude like I'd done something to offend him. We agreed to meet tonight after work after a small disagreement about how late it was, I refuse to let him see my tiny 2 bedroom apartment that I share with my friend Paige, not because I'm embarrassed, because I work hard to live in that apartment, but I'd like to keep somethings private, especially from someone who seems to hate me for no reason. So we decided to meet up at his house because most cafes on the other side of town, where he lives and where school is, are closed at this time.

I'm on my way to his house after quickly getting changed and freshening up in the toilets at work. I'm wearing a white Lacey tank top with light and dark brown checked sweatpants, a cropped black puffy jacket and white trainers. My long brown hair is tied behind my head in a bun, my dads watch and my moms bracelet sits perfectly on my wrist and I have no choice but to wear my glasses since I've ran out of contacts.

Pulling up to his house I'm astonished at the size of the beautiful garden filled with daises and buttercups but when I see the house that comes with it I can't catch my breath. It's a large white two story House with large windows with black frames there's a beautiful porch looking over the large garden that's just over the white drive way. It's the opposite of what Cole is. I expected a large filthy rich matte black house with a spiked 'fuck off' fence surrounding it. Instead this seemed homely and welcoming.

"You do realise it's raining and you look like an idiot just standing there with your eyes bulging out of your head" A voice breaks me out of my trance.

"I'm sorry" I look at the tall tattooed guy standing on the porch, he's wearing a fitted white top and grey joggers, a simple silver chain is dangling around his neck and his black hair is slightly messed up. He'd look perfect if it wasn't for his fierce grey eyes staring me down. "Your house is, is beautiful" I say trying to relieve the awkwardness.

"Are you coming inside or are you just going to stand there in the rain"

"Sorry" I say with a smile, ignoring his attitude.

The inside of the house is just as beautiful as the outside, in the foyer there are stairs leading up to the second floor the thin black banister complements the oak floors and white walls perfectly to my left looks like an entry way to an office where a beautiful blonde woman sits at a white desk. To my right is a lounge area with modern white seats and glass side tables with brass legs it leads to what looks like a dining area.

"Is that your mom?" I ask gesturing to the beautiful woman behind the desk.

"No" he says, he doesn't elaborate, he just walks past another hallway which stretches sideways across the house and into an open plan kitchen and living area with a small mini bar in the corner the wood panels on the roof pair nicely with the rest of the interior. The house is so modern but at the same time feels so safe and homey. It's smells like vanilla and freshly baked cookies. The French doors which stretch along the back wall showcasing the barbecue area and the pool let in plenty of light.

We sit down at a small round glass table with white cushioned chairs and place our notebooks on the table.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" Coke breaks the silence

"Would I be able to get a water please?" I ask nervously, why am I nervous I deal with assholes like this all the time at work.

"Sure" he replies in a monotone voice.

I spend about an hour and thirty minutes there and we decide to write about the relationships the boys in the book 'Lord Of The Flies' made on the island. It was one of the only books both of us had read, and the only reason for that it is because it was one of the books we had read in English lit freshman year. As we had to do a speech as well as individual reports we said we'd do most of the work over the phone and meet up two or three more times so we could practice the speech in person, we only agreed on that after I made it clear I was not failing this assignment.

Throughout the whole time there he was never even remotely nice to me.