Amelia Yates

No matter where I go as of recently, Josh Foster is there.

No matter how much I try to avoid him with my whole heart, he's there.

He was behind me in the lunch line, in front of me on the walk to school, and sat a couple of rows in front of me in class.

No matter where I am, Joshua Foster is there too.

And right now is no exception.

I came to the dock to clear my head, it was a spot I had discovered a while back, and something about it clung to me, like a safety blanket.

But now, I was sitting adjacent to him, the ridiculously attractive high school tight end.

Fuck me.

(Literally or figuratively, I don't mind.)

I had never really had a crush before, but this one seemed to be making up for the lost time.

However, that would be a secret I would be keeping to myself forever and ever and ever.

For now, we were complete strangers, and I quite liked the novelty around it.

"Are you stalking me, stranger?" I ask him, to which he smirks, obviously planning out some kind of ridiculous comment before he speaks.

"I can be if you want me to be."

I roll my eyes, "That wasn't as cool as you thought it was buddy." I shoved his shoulder.

Why the fuck did I call him buddy.

"How come your in my spot?" he asked, his eyebrow raised slightly, as if being tugged on by some sort of invisible string.

"Your spot huh? Any evidence shows it could be my spot"

There was still a smile on my face, and it wouldn't fucking go away.

"Nope, I called dibs years before you, newbie."

I shiver slightly, the cold scraping through the delicate material of the cardigan I'm wearing.

I usually don't feel the cold, I can eat cartons and cartons of ice cream and not get a cold headache, and I can go out in shorts mid-winter, it just wasn't ever a thing that affected me.

But now I was cold.

Suddenly, Josh is pulling his jacket from around his shoulders, and I catch sight of his fist as he slings the material over my own shoulders, it is largely oversized on me.

His left-hand holds onto a blunt, a smoker... great.

His knuckles are scabbed and bruised, a scarlet rust grazing over the skin.

I looked up to his face, he caught me staring.

"You're staring, Yates," he whispers as if it's some sort of haunted secret.

"You are too." my voice is even smaller.

He caught me staring, but all I saw was him staring back.

I nod toward his knuckles, and he flinches slightly as if my eyes on them alone hurt.

"Long story." he shrugs.

He's nonchalant, as if showing any sort of negative emotion was bound to shatter me into a million pieces.

"We've got all night, stranger." I smile.

He breathes in.

I watch as his chest conclaves, and as I expect him to begin to speak, he simply brings the joint to his lips, taking a slow and steady inhale, offering it out to me, and I shake my head sporadically, pulling a crude, majorly disgusted contortion with my face.

"What, is a little bit of weed really gonna damage your golden reputation that much." he jokes, looking between me and the water ahead.

I look in the same direction, watching the water, which is almost black due to the darkened sky, lapse gently over itself, creating a soft harmony in the background of our oddly comfortable silence.

"Don't you know it?"

We keep our eyes on the water for a while, and time passes, fuck knows how much, but a lot to say the least.

"Can I ask you something, Amy?" he ponders, but neither one of us diverts our attention.

"I don't trust you," I remark quickly, I don't mean it, except I do.

"Then trustfall." his words are deadly serious, but I can't help but chuckle a little, my body moving as a laugh flows from my lips.

"I beg your pardon." I'm looking at him now, and he's looking at me.

If it wasn't this dark, I know for a fact his deepening blue eyes would be brighter than ever, a vibrant cerulean shade that could make the world stop spinning.

His hair was quite wavy, and it cascaded all over his forehead, placed almost strategically, like some sort of cryptic organised mess.

"Trustfall." is all he repeats.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean.

I utter that his asking a question would be fine, and then I just sit, awaiting his response, my legs swinging slightly with the breeze motivating them, avoiding the scary factor of having to speak to someone new.

Except funnily enough, I felt as if I had known him a million lifetimes.

"Where do I get some of that mango shit?" he asks, and I burst out laughing.

it's one of those embarrassing laughs, that spurs deep from my belly and makes me want to curl up and die of embarrassment, but all it does is make him laugh too.

He's laughing with me, but the way his mouth curls up at one side suggests he has no idea why.

"I thought you were gonna ask me some sort of ridiculously intense question."

He remarks how it was intense, because he had a dire need to try it, and he had failed on his mission to find out where I had gotten it from.

My head shakes, a little whiplash from disbelief as I smile to myself.

Suddenly, he hops off of the ledge we are seated on, a small cloud rising as he lands in the sand.

"Show me," he smiles, offering his hand out for me to take, but I hesitate a little.

"For all I know you could have a knife in your pocket you're planning to murder me with, why would I go with you?"

He smiles intensely as if I had just made some sort of groundbreaking development.

"Then me revealing that to you would take all of the fun outta it, i need to the advantage of surprise Yates."

I take his hand, it's softer than I expected, but cold, ice cold.

Despite the fact I was meant to be leading him, he stood slightly ahead still.

It didn't occur to me that we were even still hand in hand until he peered back and the sight met his eyes, to which he dropped it instantaneously.

We were both very visibly embarrassed, we were complete strangers after all.

"So, Joshua, an eye for an eye... can I ask you a question?" I ponder, He is standing next to me now, and I'm attempting to match my footsteps with his pace, which was naturally faster than mine.

His tongue ran over his bottom lip, and the next words were all too predictable, something that seemed to be a running theme when it came to Josh Foster.

"What if I don't trust you?" at first, he seemed to be able to maintain a straight face for the main part, but the corner of his smile curls upwards ever so slightly, before breaking out into that signature killer grin which was all too recognisable.

"Trustfall," I utter, it's obvious that I'm cringing at myself, but I go ahead with it anyways, easing myself into the moment to the best of my ability, fastening the buttons of his jacket, which although was completely and utterly drowning, seemed to be a little comfier than I had hoped it would have been.

"Agh, shit Yates, you got me," he shrugs, digging his hands deep into the front pockets of his jeans, a brown leather bracelet that's strung over the base of his wrist catches my eye briefly, but I begin to talk.

"How come you're hanging out with me, i would have run the second we made eye contact."

We've left the beach now, and the sandy pavements have drifted off into roads, more and more people appearing around us, but this stupid little town was practically barren compared to the city.

"You didn't," we are waiting on the sidewalk now, and in our short trip I've already had to reprimand him from jaywalking at least five times.

I look at him, puzzled.

"You didn't make a run for it, you are still here." he shoves my shoulder lightly, and something tells me I want to be friends with him.

I shake my head methodically, and receive a chuckle in response, cocky bastard.

"That wasn't my question, dipshit, and I know that I'm right here."

A comfy silence blisters over us, and all I can hear is a muffled stereo and squawking gulls.

his breathing stands out, and he still has not yet answered by the time we reach the little diner on the side of the road.

It looks shitty from the outside, with cracking paint on the panelling, and the neon sign above the door is only half working, the open light flickering sporadically as we head through the parking lot.

There are some small steps ahead of the entrance which we climb before pulling the handle on the door, he holds it open and ushers me in in some sort of faux attempt at chivalry.

Quite obviously, he's trying to get my attention, and trying to get a laugh out of me, two things which usually make me want to smash my head against the window panes repeatedly until it gets my point across, but oddly enough I don't seem to mind.

A bell rings as we head through the door, alerting the elderly waitress, who I'm pretty sure may or may not have been sleeping behind the counter just now.

But I don't blame her, the place is dead aside from us and an old couple splitting a pie across from us.

I settle down into my usual booth, waiting to be served.

Josh shuffles in across from me, he taps his leg repeatedly against the floor, which I had gathered must have been a nervous thing.

The waitress heads toward us, smiling, despite the disgruntled look in her eyes.

"Hey Patty, how's things?" I smile at her, giving the menu a once over, despite already knowing exactly what I was going to get.

Patty had Greyish blonde hair that was pinned up in a sort of bun situation, which paired with her yellow uniform and little white apron gave her a sort of nineteen fifties to sixties esc vibe, matching the decor of the building itself.

On each wall, photos and records and maps of the town hung beneath classic art, photos of residents and other little bits.

There was a red LED strip beneath the tables which gave off a warm tone as it mixed with the yellowish lighting emitting from the lamps along the wall.

"Usual, Honey?" she asks, pulling her pen and notepad from her little apron pocket.

I nod, smiling as she nods towards Josh, "And for your friend?"

he runs his hand over his chin, his other one grasping the menu as he reads, obviously deep in thought.

I notice a few rings spread over his fingers, and once again he catches me staring.

"I'll take a coke and some of that mango sorbet if you don't mind, thanks a bunch." he smiles, placing the menu back in its metal holder as Patty walks off.

"I stuck around because I don't understand you one bit, Yates." it's almost as if he's peering right into my soul, and it sends a shiver along my spine.

"Gee, thanks." I huff, I don't mean to sound as snappy as I end up sounding, but it just sort of comes out that way without me willing it to.

He shakes his head, denying my stand-off-ish behaviour, and I instantly feel guilty.

"Elaborate." is all I say.

"I can't fucking figure you out, and it intrigues me way more than it probably should," he says back, and then Pattys back with the tray.