It began on a Sunday afternoon. She was sitting on the porch, the warm summer breeze tousling the long hair off of her neck. One of her long legs hung off of the swing, and her eyes closed to the sun shining on the world. When she opened them, it was still the lazy summer Sunday she had closed her eyes on. Nothing was different, yet as Emily Peters looked around her, it wasn't the same, either.
The boys hadn't arrived yet. It had been six hours since she had gotten off the phone with Gilbert, who had said that he and two of his friends were going to show up to make her feel better about her recent break up with Ivan. It hadn't lasted very long, but over the few years that Emily had started dating, she realized that her fatal flaw was that she fell for people too hard, too fast, and too easily.
Just as she came over this sudden realization, a white pick up truck pulled up and parked in front of her home. Three men came out. The driver door brought out Alfred Jones: Blond, and wearing his bomber jacket, as always, paired with nicely fitting jeans, and his trusty pair of Chuck Taylors that he'd owned since high school. The passenger door brought out both Gilbert Beildschmitt and Mathias Kohler: Gilbert had silvery blond hair, and piercing violet red eyes; he's albino, and it didn't occur to Emily that that was his case until she had started dating Ivan. He was decked in his usual black t-shirt and jeans. He didn't bother with his appearance when it came to seeing Emily. Mathias, however, drew her attention. He was Danish, she knew, and lived with four other men most of the time. But he took care of himself, even if that was his living situation. His hair was styled, and his white button up dress shirt was unbuttoned at the top a little bit to tease women with exposed skin. The sleeves were rolled up, and his jeans looked brand new. He also wore sunglasses, but as the three of them walked up to Emily's spot on the porch, he took them off slowly, and looked at Emily as if she was his soul mate and he had been searching the planet for her.
But Antonio had also looked at her that way, and even after two years after their break up, she still longed for him. Men who looked at women that way were undoubtedly nothing but trouble.
"You look like shit," Gilbert said, laughing, "Like you haven't slept in a while. And when's the last time you showered? Gott, I'm kinda afraid to see what your house looks like if this is how you're treating yourself."
She smiled up at him, and stood. "Thanks, Gil. You sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself. Why don't you just leave now? The six hour wait was nothing."
Alfred leaned in close to Gilbert, whispering loud enough for them all to hear, "I think she's being sarcastic, but I can't really tell."
"Oh, Al, you're the best. I love you. No, really, I do." Emily leaned forward to hug him, but he took a large step backwards.
"You're not allowed to touch me until you bathe. It's gross, dudette."
"You also smell like you've been drinking."
"And smoking."
Gilbert looked at her. "This was really hard for you, huh? Let's go inside and get you clean, and fed, and then-"
Mathias had interrupted his sentence with laughter. "Sorry man, but you sound like you just found a stray dog."
Alfred laughed too. "She looks more like a kicked puppy."
Emily's eyes filled with tears. She only wanted Gilbert to come over, he was her best and only friend of the moment. She opened the door and waited for said man to come in, then slammed the door in the other two's faces. Then she began to sob, the past two weeks finally catching up with her.