Introduction
Stevie's pov
It was the first day of summer. I was on a park bench singing and playing on my guitar. A lone boy was walking around. He looked about eighteen. I'm fifteen. He was wearing a flannel shirt with some black skinny jeans. We both had on aviators and combat boots. I had on one of my many tank tops with some dark wash skinny jeans. As he walked by me, he stopped. He then turned and looked at me.
"You have a beautiful voice. Your also not bad on guitar,"
"Thanks," He then sat next to me. I just shrugged. I don't really care. Today was my first day of freedom. My school sucks. I hate the people there. They look at me like I'm crazy just because I don't like all of the same things as them. I don't like the same clothing, I don't like the same music, and I sure as heck don't like this new boy band everyone talks about, The Variables. The only reason why I know their name is because I hear about them constantly. I don't have any friends because of my tastes. Like I said, don't care.
I'm just still sitting here playing and singing. I was working on some songs, so I wanted to try them out.
"Are those songs your playing originals?" he asks. I just nod my head.
"Well, Miss. I-don't-ever-speak, I love them," I lift my head.
"Really?" He's the only one who likes my music. Even the guys at my school are in love with The Variables. Of course I've never actually played my music for people, but no one likes the music that I listen to. They shun me for it. I feel that music is a way to express yourself. All those guys sing about is "love". They probably don't even write their own songs. I guess I shouldn't really criticize them because they make millions of dollars every day.
"I know this sounds really weird, but what's your name?" he asks.
"It's Stevie,"
"Zander," he replies. We shake hands. He motions for the guitar. I give it to him. He starts strumming I song that I adore. It's You and I by Ingrid Michaelson. We both started singing to it. It was amazing. He has a wonderful voice. After we finish the song, we're looking at each other. We were about to lean in, but I turned away.
There's this huge awkward silence.
"That was good,"
"Yeah," I agree. I look at my phone. It's 2:30. I don't have to be home 'till 5:00. What am I going to do? I decided to go to Starbucks. I love that place. It's nice and quiet. I know one where it's amazing, but not a lot of people know where it is. I know, a Starbucks that doesn't have some sort of sign? Well this one doesn't have one. It's really hard to spot because it's in the back parking lot of a grocery store.
As I was walking away from Zander with my guitar in its case, he runs up behind me. He falls into step with me.
"You want to go to Starbucks?"
"That's where I'm heading to right now," I say still walking.
"Cool, I could give you a ride," he suggests. I don't have a car. I mean, I do but just not here. I walked here because I wanted some fresh air. My house is only a mile from here. Starbucks is about the same distance.
"I'm fine with walking,"
"Alright, then maybe I can walk with you," I didn't see why not. I just can't help but feel that there's a connection between us.
We talk and laugh and have fun. By the time we get back to park, I didn't want to go home. Zander is really nice and cool. We got into his car so he could drive me home.
The ride was about five minutes long. I wish it wish it was longer. When we pulled up to my house, my parents still weren't home. They were at a friend's house. They said they'd be back before me. It was 5:30.
Zander and I looked at each other. We both lean in, and this time I don't turn away. We kiss, and there's a huge spark between us. It was amazing. It was slow and passionate. I pull away before he does because of the lack of air.
"I hope we can meat again," he says. I nod.
"Here's my number," I say as I'm writing down my number on his arm with a sharpie.
"Looks like I'm never washing this arm," he jokes. We both laugh. That's how it happened. We spent the whole summer together.
I knew he was famous from the start. He looked extremely familiar because of his face being plastered on every inch of the internet. He also told me to confirm my suspicions. We kept it our little secret. It was going wonderful until the end of summer came.
We were hanging out on our bench at the park. That's when he breaks the news.
"I'm moving permanently," he said. I look at him shocked. He recently turned eighteen. That meant that he could get his own place.
"Why?"
"The label wants us to move to London, England,"
"Why!?"
"Because that's where all of the big names in the music business live. They want us to go bigger,"
"But you guys are already international pop stars!" I say failing at holding back tears. We went back to his place for a while. We talked. I soon realized that this was going to be the last time I see him ever. This whole summer was a fairytale. I should have known that something was going to ruin it. We held each other until I had to go. The vary next day, he left. He also took something. He took my heart.
