Summer of 69

Chapter 1: Bus Stop

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San Francisco May 15th, 1969

Stiles sat at the bus stop as the rain poured, sheltered by his black umbrella, it was muggy out. He watched as busy people quickly walked to their jobs to avoid the rain. "At least they have somewhere important to go to," Stiles thought to himself. Stiles brought his half-smoked cigarette up to his dried lips and took a long drag off it. Cars passed on the busy San Francisco street, splashing water as they went by. Stiles looked down at his soaked bell bottoms that were drenched up to his ankles he could feel his socks becoming wet through his boots, "Could this day get any shitter?" he pulled the cigarette away from his lips exhaling, he flicked the ashes off against the arm of the metal bench. He continued waiting for his bus that was 20-minutes late.

Stiles slouched on the bench leaning his head against his leather jacket that was laying on the back of the bench as he watched the water droplets fall from the tips of his umbrella, he was humming the "," jingle.

"STOP, HEY STOP..." A woman yelled, causing Stiles to stop humming he placed his right hand on the seat of the bench to help himself up. Stiles saw a woman with long dark-hair wearing a charcoal colored Swede coat, she had her left arm up holding a black floppy hat, and a purse slung over her shoulder chasing a bus that drove by. She stopped in her tracks, bent down taking her white kitten heel off and chucking it towards the bus.

"Asshole," The woman yelled, a few people that were walking by gave her a dirty look.
"You better watch your language, that's not how a young woman your age should be acting," An older woman with a raincoat said as she walked by.
"Oh, shut it lady, it's a free country," the dark-haired woman argued.
"Your generation is a bunch of beatniks," the old woman said as she pointed her finger.
"Actually, my generation is the hippies, beatniks are the generation before mine, plus... my generation is fighting and dying because your conservative generation dragged us into a war that we shouldn't even be fighting so I can be as rude as I want." The older woman's jaw dropped.
"I've never seen such rudeness in my life." The older woman turned her nose up and walked away to avoid any more argument.
"Peace out you old hag," The dark-haired woman said as she rolled her eyes, she walked over to where her heel fell and bending down putting it back on her left foot. She stood up turning around to notice Stiles looking at her. Stiles didn't realize he had a big grin on his face after watching the whole incident unfold, when they made eye contact his smile faded, his heart jumped to his throat, he nervously looked down at his lap, to avoid any more eye contact. He quickly glanced up as the woman as she made her way over to the bench he was sitting on. She plopped down next to Stiles, pulling her hat off and placing it next to her, she pushed some of her bangs off her damp forehead; she blinked a few times as raindrops fell in her eyes.
"That woman did not care for you," Stiles said, turning his head to the side looked at her.
"Tell me about it," the woman said as she turned her head to Stiles. Stiles was taken aback at how beautiful she was, she had freckles scattered on her cheeks, her eyes were a gorgeous honey color, she had a button nose, and a bright smile. Stiles didn't hear what she said.
"Um... how about you share my umbrella?" Stiles nervously offered as he noticed her still getting wet, he switched the umbrella into his left hand bringing it above her. The right side of him began to get wet.
"Oh... thank you," she softly said. Stiles smiled at her. They were both quiet, only the noise of the rain and cars passing with the occasional honk.
"So, are you a cop? The outfit screams it," The woman said, she looked Stiles up and down. He was wearing a light blue button up shirt with a skinny black tie. Stiles panicked he wasn't sure what to say, he didn't want to sound like a loser in front of this woman. About an hour ago, he just dropped out of San Francisco Police Academy.
"Yeah, I just got off an hour ago," Stiles rambled a lie, he brought his hand up to his somewhat shaggy dark hair pushing it off his forehead.
"Groovy," the woman said. They were silent for a few moments, Stiles' leg began to shake a little, the woman pulled her purse off her shoulder and unzipped it she began to dig through it. "Damnit,"
"What's wrong?" Stiles asked as he watched her continue digging through her purse,"
"I forgot my wallet, my friend Malia has been sick, and I was going to stop at the drug store and get her some meds, would you by any chance have a nickel, I'm going to see if my friend Lydia can pick me up," the woman asked while looking up from her purse with her big hazel color eyes.
"Yeah, I should," Stiles reached in his back pocket pulled out his wallet and fetched a nickel out, he handed her the money, his fingers slightly grazed her palm.
"Thanks, I'll be right back." The woman smiled she got up from the bench, Stiles watched her as she sprinted over to the phone booth. Stiles felt his hands become clammy he rubbed them against his jeans.
A few moments later, she came out of the booth and jogged over to the bench.
"Any luck?" Stiles asked.
"Yes, she's going to be here in a 20-minutes," She scooted a little closer to Stiles to get under the umbrella more.
"Good," Stiles said.
"Where are you heading?" the woman asked as she pulled some of her damp hair behind her ear.
"Home, it's been a long, shitty day," Stiles began to urge for another smoke. He reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes and his Zippo lighter.
"Want a cig?" Stiles offered.
"I've been craving one all afternoon," the woman chuckled, he handed the pack of cigarettes to her; she pulled one out with her flower pattered fingernails and brought it to her lips, she scooted closer to Stiles their thighs grazing one another, it caused Stiles heart to quicken, the woman placed the cigarette in her mouth, Stiles brought the lighter up to the cigarette and lit it. He watched as she took a deep breath in and exhaled a white puff of smoke exited her lips. Stiles brought his own cig up to his lips and lit it.
"Thank you for being so sweet to me."
"Hey, you missed your bus, wouldn't want to see you standing in the rain," Stiles took another drag from his cigarette.
"Yeah, I just got up late that's why I missed the bus," the woman said as she looked down at her cigarette.
"So, what do you do?" Stiles asked as he flicked the cigarette with his thumb noticing the ashes were getting too long.
"I..." the woman began to say until a car horn interrupted her, Stiles turned his head to see a blue '68 Chevrolet Chevelle SS, the woman looked up.
"Oh, there's Lydia, thank you for the help, tiger," the woman said to Stiles she leaned over pecking him on the cheek quickly, causing Stiles' heart to jump, she put the cigarette in her mouth, grabbed her hat and purse, she stood up darting across the wet sidewalk. Stiles watched as she climbed into the car. Stiles sat there on the bench he hadn't noticed he was holding his breath.
"Holy shit," Stiles said a little too loudly, someone walking by gave him a look and continued on their way. He couldn't believe what just happened. He took one last drag from his cig dropping it on the wet cement and twisting his foot against it.
He slowly sat up from the bench, opened his umbrella. Stiles decided he would walk home since his bus never showed up. As he walked down the street, he couldn't get his mind off the gorgeous woman he met.