Chapter two

He is overwhelmingly handsome for someone in the school; most the guys are either very, very muscular, have acne scars, are obese, or just plain repulsive.There is something about him, that makes me smile back; not a fake smile like I used in math, but a real one, that only one that Vincent can pull from me.

He puts out a hand to help me up and I hesitate at first, but then take it, still looking up at him while I get up.
“Thanks,” I say.
“No problem,” he says with a smile, “Here is your bag” and he hands it to me.
I take it gently. I don’t know what to say to him, but I can’t leave. I feel like my feet are nailed into the floor.
“Well, I better get going,” he pauses, “but for me to do that, do you mind giving me back my hand?” he says with a smile, showing his snow white teeth.
I can feel my cheeks redden, ”Oh, I’m sorry.” and release my grip, but he still holds on, and I become perplexed. I am still looking up at him, since he is relatively taller than me.
He chuckles and looks into my auburn eyes with his grey ones, “Its alright”, and as he still holds onto my hand, he goes the opposite direction I was heading, spinning me around and then letting go of my hand, the way they do in the movies when two lovers don’t want to part.
I look at his back while he walks away, stunned to what just happened. Guys usually don't talk to me, because I look like I am always in a rush or deep in thought. I squeeze my hand that he was holding and feel something, something that wasn’t there before. I open it and see a piece of paper. I feel the corners of my lips curve up as I open it. It reads a phone number, which I assume is his, and see that his name is scribbled underneath the number. Gabe. The name bounces around in my mind and I can’t wait to get home to tell Vince about the encounter I had with Gabe.
I diligently leave the school as if nothing had happened, but the note still rests in my palm. I open the doors of school and the cool air of February brushes against my face. I take a deep breath in and smirk. I had always loved the smell of Winter and snow; it beat the smell of rotting foliage of Fall which seemed to linger into early Spring.
I begin my long walk home which usually takes twenty-five minutes, on a good day. I don't own a car even though I am sixteen. I can't afford one and if I ever need a ride to school because of a storm or blizzard, I can always depend on Vincent to drive me. When Vincent was my age, he dropped out of high school to take care of me when our parents died in the car crash. He doesn’t want me drop out like he did because he says I need an education to get a good job. If it wasn’t for my twenty-two year old brother, I probably wouldn’t be learning about algebra that seems to be following me throughout my school years, which is still useless information to me.
Four blocks away from the school and I begin to debate whether or not to listen to my iPod. I absolutely adore music, but the sounds of the outdoors has always intrigued me. I am forced to listen to the sounds of Polson, Montana because when I do pull my iPod out,  its completely dead. I sigh and continue walking, faster then I was before.
Not much later, I reach my house. An average sized, two story duplex, with a huge willow tree in the back. A willow tree that occupied most of my back yard. A willow tree that has been there since I was little and my Dad used to push me on the now broken and tattered tire swing. A willow tree that I would climb briskly whenever I was upset or needed some time alone, and I still do that today.

I climb the steps to my front door and unlock it. I enter my house and slip off my converse. Vincent doesn’t know I have entered our house, because I can hear him whistling a made-up tune. I silently take my bag off and walk to the kitchen, where he stands by the counter, chopping a carrot. I walk to kitchen island and lean against it and begin watching Vincent’s ever move as he dances around the room. I know that Vince is in the cooking zone, and that it will take him at least a minute to notice my presence.

“Where you planning on saying hello?”Vince asks, spinning around, holding a spoon I have overestimated his focus today.

“I was, but I was going to see how long I could stare at you while you cooked.” I say putting on a teasing smile.

He laughs. “I’m only cooking this early because I needed to get a head start on lasagna for it to be ready for supper. And I didn’t get a good night sleep last night, which is why I am so unfocused today.” he pauses, “Doesn’t this spoon look like a tree?” he asks me, proving his point.

I laugh and walk over to him. “Yes it does.” I say, taking the spoon and placing it on the counter. “You better snap into it, or supper won’t be ready till nightfall.”

He looks at my sceptically, “Now do you really think I would let that happen?” he asks.

“No,”I say honestly, “I think I am going to walk to Pablo’s for a shake. Do you want anything?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll have whatever you’re going to get.” he responds.
We say our good-byes, and I slip out the door to head to Pablo’s. Pablo’s is a small Mexican joint about two blocks away from our house, famous for its chimichangas and shakes.
Before I know it, I arrive at the dive. I take a seat in a booth and look at the shake list on the menu that a waitress handed to me. I decide to order a Melon Massacre and wait to be ordered. In the mean time, I look out the window and the new snow gently fall.
“Well hello.” says a familiar voice, “Haven’t fallen again, have you?”