My first actually serious story, don't know why it's serious; it just turned out that way. I tried to write this to the best of my ability right now so tell me how it is.
Olivia Wenton sat outside her home singing songs she'd made up in her head.
It's ordinary,
Plain and simple,
Typical,
This everyday love.
Same old,
Same old,
Keeping it new.
She had never heard that song so she smiled as she thought of getting up to retrieve her writing book from her room to write the lyric in with the rest. She decided against it, she was simply feeling to lazy to do anything but lay on the sidewalk leading down to the road. The noises of Manhattan life around her were steadily beginning to die down as the sun set in the West. She was rising and starting to dust the dirt off her crimson dress when she heard someone singing as they went down the street.
"Santa Fe/ are you there/ do you swear you won't forget me?" the voice sang low as he past her. He didn't seem to notice Olivia until she said something.
"You have a nice voice," she said to him. He jumped a foot in the air before turning, ready for a fight. When the boy saw her he put his hands down.
"Tank you miss," he said.
"You don't need to speak so formally, I'm sick of hearing it," she said. The boy now leaning on the gate in front of the hedges had brown hair and green eyes, beautiful green eyes, he looked about 17, but also much older. "What's your name?" she asked.
"Jack Kelly, but ya could call me Cowboy. Almost everyone does," he told her.
Jack faced this girl, almost hidden by the darkness of an overhanging tree; all you could see was the brightness in her chocolate brown eyes.
"I'm Olivia Wenton, but you can call Liv, everyone else does," she replied. "But I won't be calling you Cowboy, especially if everyone else does."
"Den I won't call ya Liv, Olivia works jus well wit me," Jack said. Olivia stepped into the light of the sunset to shake his hand. Her hair was a creamy red with flecks of gold going through it, nothing gorgeous, but nothing ugly. Instead of just shaking her hand Jack kissed it lightly. Olivia smiled and giggled a bit. "What?"
"Nothing, your just so formal," she said.
"I wouldn'ts know," Jack said more bitterly then he meant it.
"Where are you going?" Olivia asked. Obviously she had hit a nerve with her last comment.
"Down ta Newsboy lodgin'." Olivia nodded, making a note to go buy a paper tomorrow.
"What were you singing?"
"Just a stupid song bout where I wants ta goes." Jack shrugged; he never really liked explaining about Santa Fe. It usually led him to lie about his family being out there. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie, more of what he wanted to believe.
"Oh, well I hear it's nice out west," Olivia smiled softly. Someone from inside the two story whitewashed house called her name. "Well, I have to go in. It was nice meeting you. I hope I see you again. Goodnight."
"Goodnight." Jack watched as Olivia ran into her house. He smiled and kept walking, now singing a happier tune. "Holy Cow/it's a miracle/Pulitzer's cryin'/Weasel he's dyin."
Olivia went into the parlor to tell her mother goodnight. Her mother was lying on the velvet green sofa asleep. Olivia kissed her mother's forehead and headed towards her room.
Olivia's room was light red, with a queen size feather bed in the far corner with a white nightstand beside it. Her dresser on the other wall was also white, with a nice vanity connected to it. Before sleeping she lit a candle and sat in her window seat writing the lyrics she had thought up this evening, and then the lyrics the boy was singing.
Jack entered the lodging house whistling the song he had been singing. A smile was plastered on his face. No one was in the lobby, it was poker night and everyone was probably losing to Race. Jack ran up the stairs two at time. The bunkroom was full of energy and noise.
"Hey Cowboy, make a bet," Race called from a particularly rambunctious corner. Half the house was surrounding the table where Race was kicking Blink, Snitch, and Bumlets' buts into the ground.
"Nah Race, I wants ta keep me money," he told the Italian gambler.
"Jacky boy seems a bit happy, what's makin' ya so happy Jacky boy?" an all too familiar voice said from behind Blink.
"Not'ing Spot, just happy I ain't losing to a shrimps like Race," the boy replied. "Now, if ya don't mind, I'm keeping me money, and I'm going ta bed," Jack lay down on a bunk a few feet away from the rest of the boys. He thought about Olivia and how he probably would never see her again. He drifted slowly into a sadly happy sleep.
How'd ya like it? Hope ya enjoyed it.
R&R
Kristan