Writing About Blue Eyes -Phan-

Chapter 2

Phil's POV

I sat, cramped in the back of the car, my mood worsening every minute. We had been driving for much too long, on small twisty roads, away from everything I enjoyed. I loved being with my parents normally, but in these small confines they had become annoying very quickly. I had been dreading the move for a long time. As much as I didn't want to be in the car, I was really just in a complaining mood. It had been my decision to come and help my family.

My grandmother had passed away a few months ago. We had visited the town where she lived for her funeral, and I had assumed that would be the last time I ever saw the tiny place. However, a week later my parents had announced that we were moving there to take over the restaurant my grandmother had left behind. They asked me if I wanted to help and I said of course. My favourite weeks of the whole year had always been the few in the summer I spent with my grandmother. I had loved her very dearly and this was the least I could do for her. So that's why I was leaving everything behind for a year to live in a town with a number of streets that could all easily be named. It was only going to be for a year. Then my parents should be settled in enough to run the place easily and I could go back to my life. I would give my grandmother a year.

Once we finally got there, I was happy to be out of the car. Of course the relief was short, as soon we had to start moving everything from the car to the small flat above the restaurant. Somehow my parents seemed to strike up conversation with the shop owner next door and were invited in for coffee, so I was left to do the unpacking by myself. It was only mid morning, yet I was already feelings suffocated by the small town and the restaurant that was cramped, rather than cozy, without my grandmother.

As I continued moving in and out of the building to carry the boxes, I began to notice the way everyone seemed to glance at me twice before whispering to the person they were walking with. Everyone was walking with someone too, as if they were on their daily hunt for gossip on their morning walk. I could imagine the forced sympathy that would be in their whispers. He's the grandson of that lady who died, they would say, probably followed up by something completely made up in an attempt to seem interesting.

On one of my endless trips to the car, I noticed a man that was standing across the street. He's cute, I immediately thought. He also looked like he was staring, unfocused, in my direction. Maybe there's something behind me? I almost turned around but before I did he started moving again, his eyes meeting mine before they widened as he realized I had noticed him staring. Without thinking I winked at him, turning around to go back inside without grabbing anything and not sticking around to see his most likely horrified reaction. Who winks at people? Only old men who are bordering on being pedophiles, that's who. And knowing this town I'll be seeing him about ten times more today alone. Still, maybe I could become at least friends with him or some other cute boy. The next year wouldn't be so bad with a friend to complain to, even if they were strange enough to choose to live here voluntarily.

After waiting plenty of time for wink disaster boy to keep walking, I went back to the car to grab more stuff like I had been meaning to. Only a dozen more trips to go. At this rate I might be done in time to help my parents cook dinner. Great.

After a long day I practically ran from my family after dinner and the obligatory pep talk from them about how great this was going to be. I love them and everything but getting space in our tiny apartment above the restaurant was impossible. There's a reason I was so happy to live at University a few years ago.

Once I got out of the building I felt better for a bit until I realized there was absolutely nowhere to go. There are about three streets here, each with a few businesses that I had no interest in visiting and a few clusters of houses that somehow held enough kids to have a small school on one of the streets. If I had a friend here they could fill me in on all the town gossip.