𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙙 - e.d. [ completed ]

Twelve

Emma

The bike is definitely old.

After pumping it for twenty minutes straight we finally filled the tires.

It was and understatement to say they were beyond empty now.

It's after my session and I have resorted to walking back, the tires on the bike completely empty, leaving it little to no choice to me to walk.

I'm fatigued and in need of some chicken perm in my stomach but there's an at least half an hour walk before me. Not to mention the seemingly brutal wind that decided to pick up today and swing against my light sweatshirt. I'm freezing, tired and hungry and no where near home.

Great.

My phone starts ringing in my pocket and I pull it out of my pocket. It's probably grandma worried about my whereabouts. I was supposed to be home ten minutes ago, and if theres any person who worries a lot its my grandmother. At least about me she does.

But instead of my grandmother's contact popping up, Ethan making a silly face flashes across my screen.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Hey, Em. I'm calling cause I forgot my wallet at your house today. And I kind of need it, like, right now." he explains quickly.

"Oh, well, I'm not at home, but I'm sure my grandma will let you in-"

"I'm in front of your house." he chuckles. "She's not home." he adds.

Oh, I totally forgot about her book club meeting.

"Well, uh, how bad do you need it? I'm like half an hour away." I say. I can't help the anxiety from escaping into my voice.

"Oh, it's fine, I don't need it right now, I can wait. But I can come pick you up if you want to?" he suggests, his voice sounding happy, as if he's smiling.

"Oh no, it's fine, I'm walking home right now. I'll be there soon."

"I thought you said you were using your bike today?" he asks, curiously.

"Well yeah, but then the tires decided to run flat again, so now I'm on foot." I explain and the line is silent for a couple seconds.

"Where are you right now?" he asks, casually.

"Oh, I'm on Berner street (a/n: totally made up btw) , just walking past Target, why?"

"I'm on my way." he states and leaves me no time to reply, hanging up the phone.

I roll my eyes, sighing and decide to just forget it. He's made up his mind, and me complaining about it isn't going to stop him from picking me up. I walk a few more feet down, and sit down in a public bench, probably best if I wait for him here.

I start thinking about Ethan, something I seem to be doing plenty these last few days.

It would've been probably best to wonder about this the second you meet the person, but I've only now come to realize I don't even know how old Ethan is.

He looks to be around 20 something but sometimes he acts like a fifteen year old.

Then again, no fifteen year old drinks plain black coffee.