Alcohol and Escapades ✧ N.H. A.U. | SHORT STORY

✧ Prologue;

I always did believe at one point that when in the process of meeting someone—someone worth it—that you couldn't simply plan it. You know? I believe that the best things happen by accident; at least the simplistic things. When in finding someone like Niall—someone "special" (as most would put it)—you can't wait and search. You change your standards, and you ultimately change yourself to find that later when you didn't reach your goal (the goal being meeting someone "special") you're back where you started; to yourself (your real self, may we all take note). And, that didn't happen.

That accidental meeting. The meeting where by accident the universe brought the two of us together by coincidence, merely for no reason, simply just because happened. It happened October fifteenth, two-thousand twelve.

It was raining, and I didn't know it yet, but this day was the day of the beginning. The day that I learned that not all is planned and that thing do just happen. October fifteenth.

October, 5:37pm, the middle of "nowhere."

I grew tired of the sight. The sight of my cheep tennis-shoes repetitively hitting the pavement of the small path. Like many other things in our small town, this path had been tainted completely by the means of man, and paved over, which of course I found ridiculous, being that you simply didn't need it paved. It was an unnecessary luxury for people who had no interest in the outdoors, or walking; not that I wasn't one of them. I didn't particularly love the outdoors either. But, here I was.

A few joggers passed me by, forcing me to smile as we made eye contact. They soon were gone, and I was left once again, and by this point I had found the bench I had been striving for, for the past five minutes. I sat down taking a moment to soak in my laziness after seeing myself in comparison as I leaned back and crossed my arms after adjusting my bag.

The wind blew more and I soon began hearing slow footsteps. I looked over and approaching was a boy in a black coat with blonde hair. We made quick eye contact, which didn't seem to register on his behalf somehow, and he soon joined me on the bench, stuffing his large hands into his pockets as he leaned back as well.

I grew stiff as his presence took over me, for I grew uncomfortable around people generally, but now I felt compelled to stay, unlike myself two minutes ago. What if it seemed rude to leave? Would he watch me when I got up?

As these thoughts raced through my mind I began to see him turning his head from my peripheral vision; and it wasn't a quick glance. I brought my hand to my mouth and coughed. Nothing. He continued staring at me. I stayed still, reluctantly swallowing my spit a few times before I grew tired of it. "Need something?" I asked; not looking over, keeping my vision on the naked, leafless tree across from me. He didn't say anything. "Okay then," I said as I brought myself to my feet in an anxious manor.

I crammed my cold hands into my thin sweatshirt pocket and began in the other direction, towards the graveyard (home actually in that direction) behind us, and as if he had to prepare himself to do so, he spoke. "No, uh, wait up!" I stopped, waiting for him. "I just. Well I guess I didn't think you'd really, um, notice I guess that I was looking at you."

"You were staring."

"Right," he answered.

"Right." We both stopped talking as I tried to speed up my walking, but he did so as well (unfortunately) and we were still both together. "You persistent?"

"Not really. Why?"

"No reason," I replied. "What's your name?"

"Niall, and yours?"

"Juliet."

"Cool," he said.

"Yep."

Silence.

"You live around here I assume," he stated.

"You assume right," I replied. "I sort of assume you do as well."

"I guess."

"How do you guess where you live?" I asked looking to him. He was smiling.

"I don't know. I don't particularly belong anywhere."

I laughed. "Me neither."

We both stopped talking but we looked at each other for a minute. "You think we'll be able to ever talk again, Juliet?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"Meet me here tomorrow?"

"Maybe."