Perfectly Ordinary // Shawn Mendes

love & accidents

claudia

Shawn came a day later, and many days after that. I waited on the balcony until I saw the boy with the guitar. Then, I snuck outside and took his hand. We would walk to the garden, and I'd sit on the bench across from him.

And he'd sing to me.

There is always a different song. He tells me he loves singing the ones he writes himself, but he likes singing other people's music as well. I love when he makes a mistake or forget a lyric, because I remember that he is still human and not an angel singing for me.

I don't realize how much he means to me, not until so much later.

My family is falling apart. I can't tell him this, though, because I hate when I see pain in his eyes. He knows how it feels to have an alcoholic as a father. He knows how it feels to feel lonely and lost.

His mother is getting worse. His visits become shorter and his voice weaker. Some nights he doesn't want to go home, so we talk until early morning hours and he falls asleep on the bench. My parents can never find out. Shawn is my secret, and I don't want to have to share him. I know it sounds selfish, but I think he feels the same way about me.

Shawn is there for one of the two worst nights of my life. He is there for both of them, actually...

"Shawn, I'm scared," I say, my voice quivering. His eyes soften and he looks concerned.

"Clauds, what's the matter? Is everything okay?"

Shawn arrived at my house around one am this day, and we were sitting on the benches in the garden. It's freezing out. Canadian winters are brutal.

"My dad went out with my mom hours ago. They're not home yet, and I don't know where they went. They just...left."

"It's okay. I'm sure they'll be home. I'm here, you're not alone," he replies, his blueish frozen lips curving into a warming smile.

I take his hand. We need to get inside before we both freeze.

We go around to the back door, stepping in little mounds of snow. I take him inside, breathing in the warm air.

Shawn has never been in my house before, and I watch as he admires the cleanliness of everything.

We reach my bedroom and I collapse into bed. He stands by my door frame, as if he needs to get permission to enter my room.

"What are you, a vampire? Shawn, make yourself at home," I giggle, tucking myself under the covers.

He blushes and steps in my room. I watch as he looks around and admires my girly decorations.

"I know, my room is pretty basic. Like every other teenage girl's," I say, and he laughs.

"I wouldn't know. I've never been in a teenage girl's bedroom before," he mutters, and I laugh.

He doesn't know what to do with himself for a while, so he just sits in my desk chair and watches me.

I climb out of the covers and lie on my stomach, placing my head in my hands and facing Shawn.

"So," I say.

"So," he says.

Shawn wears a jacket I bought for him and a flannel shirt underneath. He smiles shyly at me, running his hands through his hair. I realize that he is mine, and I am his. We are each-others best friends. He's perfect for me.

"Just so you know, you're my only friend. You're my best friend," I say, sighing. It is true. Although we have only known each other for a few months, we'd spend hours together. I feel like he knows everything about me and I know everything about him. I get the sudden urge to hug him, so I do so. I climb off the bed and give him an unexpected embrace which he gladly accepts.

Hugging him is wonderful. It feels like my body fits with his.

"I don't know what I'd do without you bugging me all the time," Shawn says sarcastically, and I giggle.

"Shawn, I'm trying to have a moment here. And you know you love me."

"You're right, Clauds. I love you...I love you so, so much," he says, and suddenly I realize that nobody has ever said that to me before. That they love me. Sure, my parents sometimes said a quick "you too" when I told them I loved them, but I don't think I'd ever heard either of them say "I love you" to me or each other.

I feel happy.

I look up to meet his gaze, my blue eyes locking with his chocolate brown ones.

"I love you too," I say, so quiet that it's almost a whisper.

And for a moment in time, everything feels right in the world. Me in Shawn's arms, Shawn in mine. I finally found my best friend after 14 years.

I rest my head on his chest, smiling. I can feel his wild heartbeat against my cheek.

"Why is your heart beating so fast, Shawn?" I ask curiously.

It's silent for a moment, and I can hear wind chimes from the garden jingle.

"I-I don't know. Maybe it's because you're hugging me," he replies at last.

I laugh now. He laughs too.

But suddenly my doorbell rings, and our laughter dies out.

"Should we answer it?" I whisper, grasping his arm out of fear. There's worry in his eyes.

Shawn takes the lead down the spiral staircase. He makes me stand behind him, and I hold onto his hand tightly.

I see flashes of red and blue lights. The police? What were they doing at my house?

Shawn answers the door, and my fingers feel numb from squeezing his hand.

"Hello, is Claudia Brooks here?" An officer asks in a stern tone. I peek out from behind Shawn, my body violently shaking.

"Honey, you're parents were in a crash. Your father was intoxicated and swerved off the road. And I'm afraid your mother didn't survive."

This is when everything becomes blurry. I let out a weak whimper.

My heart stops, and my whole body fills with grief. My mother is gone?

Shawn hugs me so tightly. I sob into him, my shoulders shaking and my ribcage rattling with each breath. He strokes my hair, telling me that he's here, and that he's sorry. His voice is shaky and afraid.

The officer is talking to us, but I'm not listening. Shawn is still holding me as tight as I'm holding him.

Shawn is telling me we have to go with them. I don't want to, I just want to hold him and sob.

He leads me to the car, and my chest hurts from crying. I can see that Shawn has tears in his eyes, but he's trying to be strong. For me.

The car ride is long, and so are the explanations of what will happen next. My father is being arrested and put into jail. The police tell me that I have no relatives in Canada, so I am going to have to move to the United States to live with my aunt and uncle in California because they are my only other possible guardians.

This only makes me cry harder, because the thought of leaving Shawn is unbearable. I can't lose another person that I love.

I don't sleep at all that night, and neither does Shawn. When the police tell Shawn that he should go home, he refuses to leave me.

I'm grateful he doesn't go.