Prove Me Wrong

Chapter 2

Eleanor Jones

It's been a day after that absurd incident. Just thinking about makes my face blush as my heart falls.

Ugh, I made a fool out of myself in front of someone cute. 

If only I trusted someone enough to discuss this. I need to get this out off my system to feel less guilty maybe? I guess.

 I walk down the small flight of stairs from my room and reach the kitchen. 

"Mum?" I yell, later hearing only the distant echo of my voice. 

I hear no response and proceed to the kitchen, slightly frightened. Right then a bulb goes on in my head. 

Mum and dad told me earlier today they were going for dinner.

I let out a sigh in relief.

I see a sticky note stuck on the fridge. I snatch it and read,

Ellie if you forgot, your mum and I went outside for dinner. There is leftover lasagna left in the fridge. Don't forget to heat it before you eat it. We will come a bit late as we have to drop by my office too. Love you.

                    - Dad

Relief engulfed me as I read the similar cursive, yet slovenly handwriting. But right now my stomach wasn't hungry for lasagna. I came to the kitchen to eat cereal. 

I open the fridge to check if there is milk before I take out the cereal. 

Don't worry. I am not one of those who put the milk first and then the cereal. 

But alas, I find no trace of milk. I shrug as I reach towards the pantry to grab the cereal. 

Just cereal would do.

But there was a note on the cereal box saying Buy milk. 

Right, so, my mum does this thing where she puts sticky notes on objects as reminders. And most of them are groceries. She is most of the time busy with book clubs, volunteering, whatnot, she is usually stuffed with work and asks either my dad or me to take a short visit to the local grocery store. 

But every time she asks us, my dad groans and complains about work and I make an excuse for homework. So the rule was, whoever saw those sticky notes first have to take it with them and run to the store to grab the supplies.

There are pros and cons regarding this. The local grocery shop isn't too crowded that I couldn't handle it. The con being, I was too lazy to change into something decent. Maybe wearing some jeans and hoodie was too much work for me.

I groan openly like a seagull and sloppily walk upstairs, after pouring a couple of cheerios in my bowl and carrying it with me. 

¶

After switching off the lights in my house, and locking it, I walk to the grocery store located only a few blocks away. I grab the first trolley from the line of trolleys standing beside the entrance of the store. But upon seeing a ratty, wet magazine on it, I grimaced and went for the baskets.

I went directly to the frozen section and grabbed the milk before checking it's expiry dates. I hauled the huge milk and placed it on my basket. 

There was always something in this store that I loved; 

The candy section of course!

I speed walked to the candy section, unable to hide my grin.

Because my number one priority was to buy the candy that was dropped straight out of heaven. Skittles.

Oh, my gahd. 

The thought of it makes my mouth water. I've been on a candy time out for a week because I broke a vase. Accidentally. Out of a sugar rush.

But in my defence, my dad gave it to me because I got very very good marks in an assignment he thought was hard. And we made a bet. 

I may or may not have been out of control.

But anyway, I got timed out for sugar but dad didn't take the blame.

So of course, like the adult he was, he bribed me with vegetables for forgiveness.

I'm surprised I'm not diagnosed with diabetes yet tho.

But now? It's freedom. I can have sugar rush without anyone questioning. 

I'll face the consequence later.

Upon reaching the candy aisle I laser scanned every shelf to find skittles. I was in complete ZEN mode. And nothing, by nothing, I mean nothing can divert my attention away from skitt-

"I'm so sorry!" A trolly roughly bumped into my hip as I was in my world of trying to find a part of heaven. I bite my tongue to hide a wince and freeze upon hearing the familiar deep voice. 

Upon a few seconds of silence, I understood that the stranger also recognised me. And that perception became verified when he exclaimed, "Hey, hoodie girl! What's up?" He cries almost joyously. 

My cheeks blazed red upon remembering that incident. I freeze as the brunette waves hands as if trying to bring me back to life.

DO NOT TELL A FACT. DO NOT TALK ABOUT ZEBRAS. DO NOT EMBARRASS YOURSELF.

My judgment pleaded my mouth to shut up as my body tried to find a way out of this situation.

After a few seconds, I realise that I basically turned the atmosphere awkward by staying silent and finally responded, "H-hi. Um. " I force myself to look at anywhere but his eyes, because the eyes are what pierces through my soul. 

So the only instinct that kicked inside of my gut was to blurt out a 'bye' and walk far far far away from the aisle of heavens. 

And maybe shift to Antarctica. Grow a moustache. Change Identity.

I support my back to a gumball machine and heave a breath moreover letting it out. I turn around and force in a coin to grab a gumball so I could chew something. 

A pathetic way, to be distracted from the embarrassment, I had caused for the second time.

I forget all about the skittles and only carried the milk to the counter. The shop was almost void of people but hey! It was a plus point for me. 

I could go home quickly and bury my face in a pillow. Maybe even scream into the pillow.

After paying for the milk, I step out and walk for a few meters before tiny droplets of water soon turned into a sting of rain. I grunt slightly and dash towards the nearest bus stand, only to see the brunette.

It's almost like the universe finds joy in embarrassing me.

My cheeks flame red every time I see him, or hell, even think about him. 

Maybe because he was the only person this year with whom I held a conversation that was more than two seconds.

He didn't seem to notice me as he was busy craning his neck to the other direction, facing towards an empty road. I shifted slightly. Upon the shuffle of my movement, he turns. It takes a minute for him to process I was standing there. 

Again.

A grin slowly grows on his sculpted face. "Hey," He grins at me, amusingly. I blush slightly. 

Sometimes I wish I would have control over my blushes.

"Hi," I whisper as my voice slightly croaks. I clear my throat and steal a glance at him. He seemed to be caught in a daze while staring at my eyes. Noticing that, my panic kicked in and I looked everywhere but him.

 Even if I did look at his eyes, he could probably hear my heartbeat so loud it would almost be embarrassing.

Now, when someone stares right into my eyes, my heart would give me three options.

a) End everything and give you a heart attack.

b) Run.

And then there is the emergency option.

c) Talk. Have a conversation. 

But for some reason, my heart pounds just began to intensify.

I was ready for the heart attack, but it never came.

And for the second option I couldn't run, because well, worst case scenario; I would slip in the mud and fall, leading to everyone in the public laughing at me. But, on the non-worst case scenario, I would slide on the wet road making the cute guy laugh at me or take pictures.

I couldn't trust him enough yet.

Again, when did I ever?

I see no best-case scenario.

I don't think I ever do.

Some depressing anedotes:

It almost feels like I'm closed in a small box and feeling claustrophobic. I try so many times to scream and shout for help, but the voice of shame defeats all purposes of getting help.

Cause I am broken. And the world doesn't need broken people. I accepted that truth way long back that it is now a fact.

"At least this time you won't run away." He says, with his slightly deep voice. But it wasn't too deep. And for a minute I felt a tinge of guilt pinch my heart but all that faded away when I saw him smile.

I nodded and tried to smile, "Sorry. I just-" I halt as I couldn't form sentences with sensible words. I blush profusely as every inch of my body critiques me for being such an embarrassment.

That covers up to half the emotions I go through daily. Embarrassment.

I take a shaky deep breath and look at him only to see worried eyes, "Are you alright?" He asks with worry evident in his voice.

I nodded, "I just, needed to get home. Sorry. I-" 

I sigh and continue, "Conversing isn't my best point." I manage to form a sentence that I've never been prouder. But the fact that I'm proud to form a sentence plunges me into a wave of disappointment. 

I push down the urge to make a funny face at my thoughts.

"Yeah. I noticed." He gives me a lazy smirk. Usually, smirks look weird on people, but on this guy-

Wait, what.

My cheeks flame again at the thought.

"You blush easily. Like, a lot.." He sends me a small smile my way. I simply shrug.

Shrug? was that the smartest move now Eleanor?

I stare ahead, not sure what to do, but I tried not to squirm under the gaze of his grey eyes. After a minute of silence, with only the thunderous sound of rain pouring down, he speaks up again.

"What's your name?" He asks gently as if I might run away again. But what tugged my heart was the strange curiosity in his eyes.

I hesitate before speaking, "Eleanor." I reply.

He mirrors my name on his lips and nods as if in approval. But hearing him mutter my name brought funny tingles inside of me. Like, a rush of an emotion I never experienced before. It was a funny feeling. But I wanted more of it.

"What's yours?" I ask him, hesitantly.

"Max." He smiles at me. I return the gesture. A few lines formed around his mouth as he smiled. As if an assurance that everything is fine. But I know it's an illusion because nothing is ever fine when it's with me.

A few minutes later, the heavy rain soon turns into soft drizzles which makes it safe for me to reach home.

I turn towards Max and smile at him gesturing my leave and grateful for his company.

But for all I know, he must have just seen a small smile and not the words. 

His eyes widen for a second before taking his phone out, "Hey, I know this is weird. We just met but, can I get your number?" He asks politely while twiddling the phone in his hands.

My heart drops. What does Max even see in me?

He slowly puts his phone back in the pocket while his face slightly hardens upon my lack of response.

But I impulsively reached my hand for his phone for which he hesitantly gave it to me. I typed in my number.

I think there was supposed to be a double 9 in the end. God, I pray so.

I slightly blushed under his boyish grin.

"I'll see you soon, Eleanor" He smiles softly at me but I couldn't return the gesture because I already started walking, with a subliminal smile on my face, the moment dawned upon me.

There might be a tiny problem here:

 I don't know how to talk in a conversation.

I go home and face plant myself on the bed, ignoring the soft ticks of the clock that was the only source of sound in the house. But the loudest of all was the reckless thoughts revolving in my head.