Josh was someone I had known for a while, but not known. Like, the guy that you see in your lessons and occasionally talked too? Well, I jammed with him quite a bit too. He had messy blonde hair, the typical bed-head look with shimmering spring green eyes. I mean, his eyes aren’t that great... Pfft whatever.
He smiled, “heya!” He chirped and I blushed slightly.
“How long have you been standing there?” I muttered. Josh was one of the few that would dare disturb me when I was playing. The room was mine; the rumours went that I always carry a knife on me and boy would I use it. It was ridiculous though, I would never carry a weapon with me...
"A few minutes," he replied, that smile still there, he was a happy person. Constantly. Everyone liked him, everyone knew him. In fact, I didn’t even realise why he was here.
"Oh good," I smiled back, glad he hadn’t seen me when my guitar had began to glow, "what you doing up here, don't you have a class?" He was a social parasite; he appears in class and talks to populars, while hanging with the Goths, the Emos and the Geeks. I was a single rebel, no one cared and I was happy that way.
He shrugged and I took Muse from my shoulder and unplugged her from the amp, "probably. What about you?" Wow, a genuine conversation. I’m impressed.
"Of course, I never go. Pfft, this school's stupid," I rolled my eyes; I didn’t actually think I would have to explain that to him. He knew better than anyone the stereotypes and the rumours. I slipped Muse into her case and zipped her up before shouldering her again, "Dunno why I stay."
He laughed, "Then why don't we go grab a coffee?" I couldn’t help but wonder... “What does he want?” Coffee, with me, the school psycho? Was he trying to destroy his reputation? Although, the part of me that made me curious accepted.
I raised a brow, "you asking me out?" It was a long shot, but why else would he invite me to coffee?
"It's not a date," he chuckled, "people can go for coffee as friends, y'know." Yeah, but we’re not exactly friends. But, I guess... this means we actually are?
"Fine," I smiled, "but you're buying,” he nodded. I do earn my own keep, but free coffee’s always good. I didn’t plan on coming back, nor did I trust anyone in this school with Muse, so she always came with me.
Josh held open the door for me as we descended the stairs and we headed for the coffee shop just down the way. It was a family owned business that was quite popular with the school at dinner time. But now, when the students were all busy being zombies in their classrooms it was practically empty, besides the odd worker here and there.
As I pushed open the door the strong smell of grease and coffee stung my nose. The plastic tables were stained with things I hoped were tea. The floors were clean but streaked with water marks. The walls were covered with pictures of anything and everything that could be collected over the years but it had a general homely feel.
But despite its shabby appearance it was clearly loved, as everything was as clean as it could be and the waitress wore a smile that stretched from ear to ear. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, though a few strands fell free. Her top was clean and crisp white and a blue apron separated the white from the coal black of her trousers.
As soon as she saw us in the doorway she motioned us in with an even wider smile. We took a seat away from the workers, a seat so I could gaze out of the giant window. As soon as we sat down the woman came bounding over, almost as chirpy as Josh; almost.
When she came back with our coffees, I finally decided to break the silence. When I’m on my own, I’m fine. When I’m with someone else, the silence becomes less golden and more awkward. "So, anything you wanna talk about?" I asked, my finger lightly tracing round the edge of my coffee cup.
"I'm open to suggestions,” great, one of the chattiest people in school and we have nothing to talk about. But, something in me sparked again and soon I just felt myself talking, I knew he like music and this friendship thing shouldn’t be too hard?
"You invited me to coffee," I laughed slightly at the irony of him inviting me out just to sit in silence. I doubt he was admiring my looks, I hope not. "Although... have you heard about the show they're holding down at Shots?"
Shots was a club downtown, it had a small stage that was open to all sorts of acts from bands to comics. It was a cosy place that sold only basic alcohol, seeing as it was more about the acts. But I had performed there for a while and the staff sort of knew me, though we did not talk and I didn’t have a ‘usual,’ though I normally only drank one thing.
A spark of interest lit his eyes and I smiled, "I was kept in the dark about this one." It didn’t surprise me, despite the fact that he knew everyone in school. Only a few went to Shots and even then, they didn’t talk about it.
"Well, I'll be playing there and I just wondered if maybe you'd like to..." I paused, I hated this crap. I had never invited anyone, anywhere; nothing that didn’t have a sexual connotation anyway. I looked at him and sighed, there was no point in offering, he’d probably say no anyway. So instead I flicked my wrist dismissively and took a deep drink of the aromatic black liquid.
He waited for a moment, as if he expected me to finish before nodding, "Sounds awesome, yeah."
I wasn’t expecting that.
"Cool," I muttered with a slight smile, trying not to give away that I was actually happy, I’m not meant to do happy. "Thanks for the coffee," I mumbled again through another sip, nor was I meant to do manners.
"No problem. Remind me, who's in your band?" Band... I have no friends, let alone enough social connections to create a band. So I shrug, trying not to give him a ‘God, are you that stupid?’ Look.
"Right now, it's just a dream. It's just me," wait, why was I telling him my dreams and being kind? Oh well... I sort of liked it. Not having to hide and all that, he didn’t seem to shun me away either.
"Oh sure, well I can hook you up with a couple of mates if you're looking for a band?" Wait, was he now being kind to me? Not only was the fact of people working with me is absolutely ludicrous, but social whore is being nice... well, if I was to be nice, I should stop calling him ‘social whore.’
I laughed to myself, "Josh, who would want to work with me? I'm the rebel outcast of our school,” I hate pointing out the obvious and I’m sure he wasn’t that dumb.
He grinned, "Never noticed that everyone loves that you're a rebel?” No, if you haven’t realised, I don’t hang around people long enough to find out, “They're just too scared to show it.” Of course, anyone loves me, I kill them. I’m meant to be a black widow... whatever. “Well, I'm not, I think it's great,” I needed no more information to find out what a weird child he was.
"Obviously not," I took the final sip of my coffee and managed a small smile back, "I know I've known you for quite a bit. You wouldn't have hung around if you didn't think I... it is great." I faced it; he didn’t love me, he loved what I was. Who doesn’t love a cold-hearted rebel?
"What can I say? I'm just not rebel enough to go out and say it," he laughed, but I found nothing funny about it, in fact I had the urge to turn round and slap him for that... see if he would still be smiling.
"Well thanks, I guess," I muttered, still trying to be nice. "If you can find some people that would want to start a band with me then I'd... appreciate the help," I coughed out, reputation to uphold and all that. "Say would you like to... walk me home?" Don’t misunderstand; I just wanted to talk to him about the band... I think.
He pretended to consider it for a moment before smiling, "yeah, sure."