Ursa Minor (On hiatus)

Strangely endearing

Barging out through the doors, I looked around frantically. Everything gray. Wasn't his car gray even? Or blue? Or something in between? I had no idea where he lived I realized. No idea where he usually parked, in which direction to search. Catching my breath I rested my hands on my knees for a couple of seconds, tried to think logically. If he lived real close to me, he would've said something, right?

I started jogging down the north side of the parking lot, and turned the corner to the east side. More rows of parking space, some of them still occupied, but not many. All non-descript colors. And no read hair around. Great. Just fucking great. I slowed down, deciding to walk around the school to get back to the west side, even though I knew it was hopeless. I'd messed up as usual. Matthew O'Neill. Messing up and disappointing people since 1988.

A movement to my left caught my eye. No red hair, but a navy hood ducking down behind a shiny car roof a couple of rows away. Maybe it wasn't hopeless. Maybe for once I hadn't messed up. Or yeah, I totally had, but I maybe I would get a second chance to fix it. I walked cautiously towards where I'd seen the person disappearing. And I got my second chance, because it was indeed Allen standing there, by his frustratingly non-descript car. He was supporting his bag on his knee muttering to himself, no doubt searching for his keys. What the look on his face as saw me meant I wasn't sure. And I really didn't have time to analyze it.

Desperate times, desperate measures. So I smiled at him. My widest, most luminous smile. The kind you have to laugh a little it's so big. My mom could keep her ideas of my stubborn jaw and all that, I knew it really was my smile that made me get what I wanted. That made people cave in. And Allen, like 97% of all the people I had met, didn't appear to be immune to it, instantaneously smiling like an idiot himself. Or maybe it was him having finally found his keys.  

"Ok, so you're right. I'm a mess. But it's not like you didn't know that," I started off defensively, but Allen wouldn't have it. 

"I didn't say that," he heatedly interjected. "And I don't know that, I don't know you. I would like to though."

The way he said it so frankly, looked at me so sincerely. It felt so totally out of place. Like something from that faraway time in your life when you actually asked people if they wanted to be your friend and told them they had the coolest bike and that your favourite ice cream was strawberry. Like so junior high. But it was also something strangely endearing about it. And I felt that wide smile on my face again, found myself being the one caving in. There weren't many people that wanted to get to know me nowadays. There honestly hadn't been that many in junior high either.  

"Yeah, ok," I answered, somewhat bewildered. Wasn't I supposed to apologize?

"Are you doing anything right now?" Allen asked back to his usual soft way of speaking, like there had never been a problem to begin with. "Because I thought maybe it would be good if we were halfway done you know, since it's one week left..." 

"Uhm..." I glanced at the brick building behind me. Now when I left I didn't really feel much like going back inside. 

"Yeah, I know." Allen nodded like he could read my mind. "We could go to my house, but I've still got a lot to unpack, just been so buzy you know. Maybe tomorrow-"

"We could go to my place," I surprised myself by saying. "Like for an hour," I added hastily, trying to put a time limit to the whole thing. Maybe it was this that made everything with Allen so weird. This push-and-pull all the fucking time. I didn't want to talk to him, I called after him. I wanted to get rid of him, I ended up working with him. I hated him, then I invited him to my place. Whatever I did, however I acted, it just left me feeling all conflicted. Like there was something about him I just couldn't handle. But for Allen as usual, nothing was ever weird.