(two)

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riley

{three p.m}

the first thing on my mind as I stride down the quite busy streets of atlanta is food. god, I am starving, but I need to keep my money limitations in mind.

I must look so strange to everyone who passes me. a young girl with a large, black backpack, wearing black skinny jeans along with a black sweater to shield the cold air. I must come off as some rebellious teenager to them--

I ran away from home. I am, in fact, a rebellious teenager. though my actions were not simply to rebel against my parents, but when push comes to shove... I am considered a rebelling teenager.

I'm suddenly self-conscious about walking so discreetly around these crowds of people. anxiety runs its way through my brain, and suddenly I'm conjuring up all the negative possibilities that could come to me. someone could recognize me, and call my parents. someone could report me for looking like a run away because, well, I do look quite a lot like a child running away.

I spot a small gas station across the road, and my pace speeds up as I crave some food to cure my growling stomach. I push open the doors, the aroma of oil and poorly brewed coffee filling my senses.

As I'm checking out with a pre-made bagel and one of those coffees, I glance up at the television that seems to be screening the news for the customers... or lack there are. the screen says to expect thunderstorms starting this evening and continuously until the next morning.

"6.50." the guy behind the counter tells me, and I hand him the money, ready in hand.

I get my bagel and coffee, and I leave, hoping I'm never desperate enough to take a job behind the counter at a gas station. I could barely stand the odor for the minutes I was in there, let alone everyday for nine hours.

only a millisecond after pushing open the heavy door, my body is clashing with another, and my chest burns at the hot sensation of my spilled coffee. I don't have time to blink before the back of my head is smashing against the closed door behind me.

"oh god.." I hear the opposing person in this encounter speak, but all my senses are focused on the sharp pain shooting through my skull.

"are you okay?" they speak again, and I finally swim back to consciousness.

"yeah.." I say, huffing in annoyance at the fact that I'm drenched in hot coffee and my bagel is now squashed against the gravel, right next to my feet.

"I'll buy you another bagel... and coffee." they say with a sigh, and I finally pick my head up to examine this stranger.

holy blue eyes. I can't peel my focus off of them. by my own judgement, I'd peg him for seventeen maybe... I know I look idiotic, just blankly staring into this boys oceanic blue eyes. his brown shaggy hair swoops delicately across his forehead and I find myself completely mesmerized as my thoughts scatter all over the place.

"I don't have time for this... just here." he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a ten dollar bill and folding it into my hand.

"I can't take your money." I say, being the stupidly polite girl I am and holding out my hand for him to take it back.

"no, really. I have a lot more where that came from." he brags, and turns on his heels to head back to his car. before I can say anything more, a crackle of thunder sounds from above our heads, and he stops in his tracks. a peck of rain hits my cheek, and the only shelter I can think of is this gas station.

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