xX… GAH! Another story!!! How, my dear reviewers, do you keep track of 'em all? Luckily, we have a nice FREE weekend so I will be writing chapters for (I hope) all my current stories! Including a special message to all Heaven and Hell readers! So, read on! Thanks …xX
He was stuck, that's how he usually described his life. Dead End, No Go. Live it, learn it, love it. No matter what he did, he was stuck.
The Midwest does that to people, or so they say, they say that the Midwest is one gigantic trap.
You don't believe me? Look at him. He's 20- a high school drop out, no chance for college with that record. He is standing, right now, at a bus stop. Wondering how far one dollar and thirty-two cents will take him in this fast moving world. He wears a faded white t-shirt and ripped jeans that don't fit his belly anymore, which is constantly getting bigger. His torn and grimy white shoes are peeling and his sock is beginning to show. He wears a bleached Yankee hat that masks his crazy, everywhere, brown hair. A tooth pick hangs lazily out of his mouth and his hands are deep in his pockets.
The bus pulls up and he takes his sweet time getting on, handing the conductor his money and wondering what people would say if they saw him, in New York, at Yankee stadium. Wherever the hell that is.
The bus rumbles gently out of it's stopped position, and begins to rumble down the deserted two lane highway in the wheat basket of America. The bus is populated by three or four folks, mostly with stern, weather beaten looks on their face. In their overalls and fading white sundresses, missing a tooth here and there. The couple of passengers on the bus are all clumped up to the front. The over air-conditioned bus speeds slowly down the road, on it's way to… somewhere. He's moving to the back of the bus, hands still deep in his pocket, as if looking for the meaning of life.
He sits down in the absolute last row of the bus and looks out the window, wondering- if he gets off at the Wendy's and gets a burger, he'll have to pay more to get back on the bus- tough. He opts to stay on the bus and pass up the fatty, greasy, and god-knows-what's-in-it burger to ride to a more promising prospect.
Lost in his thoughts, the bus stops and a passenger or two gets on; he looks up, the bus terminal for the county. Not bothering to look up, he is comforted as the bus begins to move again. The bus has been going for, oh a second or two, and it passes the high school. Students mingle in the yard, certain of a bright future. Ha, he thinks, Ha you all, wait to the vacuum gets you.
The footsteps don't stop and are causing a slight vibration, suddenly they stop and he feels the presence of a body next to his. Slowly he lifts his head to peer at the creature that ventures to the back of the bus. He stops; it's a woman- soft brown hair, wearing a little white tank top that doesn't pretend to want to conceal anything, tight jeans, around her neck a little necklace with glass beads. Her face is soft and she has heaved a large, brown suitcase next to her. Everyone is starring. She looks down at her stylish, expensive looking Adidas sneakers. Suddenly, he is feeling very self-conscious, his hair is dirty and he spits his toothpick inconspicuously out. He notices his shirt and jeans and is very embarrassed. The damn Midwest trap. She looks at him and smiles an off kilter smile of faint remembrance.
"You like the Yankees?" she asks, her voce is clearly from around here, but strangely, he's never seen her.
"Well," he stammers, he can feel his face hot, "I guess so, I mean, I've never seen 'em play, just look at the scores in the paper and the game clips on the TV," he answers shyly, suddenly feeling stupid.
She smiles softly at him, and pushes the hair out of her eyes, those gorgeous brown eyes.
"Yeah, I guess the Yankees are pretty good. But I think their stadium sucks and I like Shea better," she answers.
She. Has. Seen. A. Yankees. Game. He is in awe.
"You're not from around here," he asks after a while, "are ya?"
She looks down,
"No, not really, no. I mean- I used to live here, but. But…"
"You've tried to block it out?" he finishes her sentence.
She laughs a little,
"Yeah, I guess. I mean, I'm only here for my parents thirtieth anniversary."
"Oh."
"Do you know, that I haven't been home in, say, seven or eight years?"
He fakes surprise, how can someone like YOU stay here at all, he thinks.
"No!?"
She laughs again. Easy to please.
"You work here?" she asks.
"I live here" he ads, as if there is a difference.
"Oh." After a while the only sound is the hum of the bus, "I'm Katie," she says, holding out her hand.
He stares at her,
"No way."
"What???"
"You don't remember me, now that you moved away?"
"God, this is so embarrassing," she says. Blushing.
"It's Zack, Kate, Zack!"
The lights flicker and the air condition falters, people are starring at the outburst.
"No way? Zack Mooneyham? That is wild, why the hell are YOU still here?" she leans back to look at him. He needs no leaning back to get a nice good look at her.
"Yeah, well," he's getting embarrassed again, "Things happen," quickly trying to change the subject, "You're parents were really worried about you, you know, when you left, they thought you were becoming a hooker in the land of Satan."
She laughs,
"Oh, she means New York, screw them," she says.
"So, that's why you're here. Everyone has been invited, it's the outing of the year."
She covers her eyes, embarrassed to no end,
"God- I forget what hicks we were."
He is taken back- but would never show her. The bus stops in town and they both get off.
"So, I guess I'll see you tonight?" she asks.
"Yeah. Right, I guess," he responds. She turns and walks off. Rolling her suitcase behind her. He cannot control himself; she is the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen. He turns and begins walking drolly towards his trailer. Trying hard to remember WHY he really is still here.
xX… yeah, or nay? …xX