Juncture, Straight On

(Ok, so its been 6 months since I started this. It's much shorter than it was supposed to be. The point was that you'd get a choice of posts to read. But I never wrote more than one, so it didn't work so well. Here's post no. 2!

NB: her convenient "friends house" only occurs in this post because of her choice of "straight on." It doesn't exist in the "right" or "left" universes.)

Juncture: Straight on

Checking one last time for any traffic, she crosses straight across the cross-roads and up the slight incline. The hedged verges drop away here to reveal stunning views of the open countryside; a majestic mountain curving up to her right, sliding down into a valley carpeted in woodland. Every now and then a flurry of birds erupt from the surrounding scene, with a burst of their trilling songs.

She is lost in her idling reflections when she hears one of the most welcome sounds she’s ever heard. From behind there is a car approaching and she quickly turns and holds out her arm, thumb aloft, hoping against hope that she doesn’t look like too much of a weirdo today.

She soon surmises that she mustn’t look too bad because the car indicates and pulls over. She doesn’t know much about cars, but she knew enough to feel the vibes of expense radiating from it. If she was ever going to tell anyone about this experience in the future, she’d call it the “pretty bluey-silver sportsy-type car,” to the despair of all metal-head’s in the area.

The driver’s door swooshed open and a Gorgeous Man stepped out. She blinked.

“Hi there,” he said, unoriginally.

“Urgh,” she replied, realising as she said it that that wasn’t a word. “Umineem,” she continued quickly, feeling more and more like a weirdo. Damn.

“Umm…” the Gorgeous Man said, looking a bit non-plussed. This was an accustomed expression for him.

“My car’s stopped,” she managed to blurt out suddenly, probably looking even more demented. “I don’t have a phone and errr… I kind of don’t really know what to do.” She stopped, determined not to add further embarrassment to that pitiful effort.

“Hey, no problem!” the Gorgeous Man said in that laid back, supposedly, charming way of all men who fancy themselves as Gorgeous. “Do you have the number of your insurance breakdown people?”

Shit. Crap. Bastards.

“Umm… no well, yes, but well, I keep it on my phone and I forgot my phone.”

Pathetic.

“Oh. Well can I give you a lift somewhere? I didn’t really have a destination in mind. I was just taking the car out, you know, cruising.”

She wonders briefly whether he is some kind of creepy murderer-rapist, or else just someone who lacks environmentalist principles. She decides the latter are more common.

“Ah- yes please!” she replies, trying to sound grateful, but not like some kind of freaky keeno. “I was on my way to a friend’s house- she lives about ten minutes drive from here. Would that be at all possible?” She allows herself to sound just a little bit desperate. She even toys with the idea of puppy-dog eyes.

“Sure!” he replies with an expansive arm gesture. “Climb on in.”

She steps into the car, sinking deeply into the squishy leather seating. She smiled at the decadence of her transportation as she snaps the seat belt into place. The Gorgeous Man slides into the driver’s seat and flicked on his indicator light, making a soft little puck-puck noise, almost like an embarrassed cough.

“You know, it’s the strangest thing, and I know this is going to sound like a line, but I can’t help but feel I know you from somewhere.” The Gorgeous Man glanced across at her, a slightly puzzled expression on his face.

She takes a closer look at him and with a sinking feeling, realises that yes, they have met before. He used to be in the same school, although two years older, and she had been part of a (now hideously embarrassing) fan club, devoted to his supreme gorgeousness and popularity. It was a supposedly a secret fan club. But this was a school after all.

To pretend you don’t know him: Stop! And continue reading the post entitled Juncture: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

To acknowledge the acquaintance, despite the embarrassment; continue reading below.

“Yes, actually, I don’t suppose you went to Hartfield School?” she asked, as nonchalantly as possible. She looked out the window as she said it, admiring the now very interesting scenery. In fact, she could just make out what seemed to be a castle, nestled in the bottom of the valley.

“Yes! I did!” the Man replied, slight excitement entering his tone. “Did you go there too?”

“Yes,” she replied neutrally, “I don’t think we were in the same year though.”

“School days were good fun, weren’t they? Do you remember Mr Pughes?”

“Yes! And how he always said everything as if it was from 1950. ‘Turn down the sound on your jukeboxes, children!’ He was a right laugh,” she replied, with a laugh.

“Yes! And do you remember that special assembly he lead?”

“Who doesn’t! I don’t think I’ve ever cringed so much.”

“Less said about that, the better,” he replied solemnly.

“At the next cross roads, it’s straight on,” she interrupted, pointing at the junction coming up in front of them.

“Ok,” he replied, still smiling. Looking both ways, he carefully crossed over the road.

“My friend’s house is coming up on the left soon,” she said, leaning forward and squinting at the hedge line.

“Is that it?” he asked, tilting his head at a house sitting set into the hillside.

“Yes!” she replied happily. “Thank you so much for driving me! I was really stuck back there.”

“It was my pleasure. Look, I don’t want to sound corny, but could I have you’re number?” He said the last part slightly rushed.

She smiled back at him. “Sure. But, as we know, my ability to keep my phone on me is not the best.”

He laughed in reply. “I suppose I’ll just have to be patient then!”

He handed her his phone and she keyed her number in.

“See you around then,” she said, stepping out of his car. “And thanks again for the lift.”

“No problem! Hopefully see you soon!”

With that he drove off into the sunset. Once he was out of sight, she jumped up and down on the spot laughing.

“No one from school will believe this!” she thought to herself, before running up to her friends door and ringing the bell.

“You alright?” her friend asked, opening the door.

“Fine!” she exclaimed, jubilantly, “but you are not going to believe what just happened!”

THE END