Meeting Places by Drake Spire (ebook reader for laptop .txt) 📕

The Beginning of an Old Story.

Krystal gently pushed on the brakes of her car. The end of the long car ride. She slowly pushed air into her lungs. She wasn't tired. Her heart pace grew faster and faster. She couldn't help but think of a million different things that could go wrong. She finished with her long breath. Finally, her hand popped open the door beside her. Her left foot felt the solid ground first. Suddenly, her face lit up at the thought of something. She looked at her mirror to see her hair fall short a few inches from her shoulders, with a tie to pull some of the hair back. Her big glasses made her look as if she spent too much time in front of a computer, for the most part, she has. Krystal sighed. "Five years" she thought. Finally, all the waiting has come to an end.

She first sighted the sign "Celebration" with its neon lights coming from the ways off. Then, her eyes met a lake, that wasn't so far away. Her feet met the ground again and again as she grew nearer to the lake. Here, she would wait. There was a small amount of people that scattered the sides of the lake. She bent her legs so that her bottom would feel the edge of the concrete, next to a man that was spending his time with his fishing rod and pieces of bait.

"Good day, isn't ma'am?" Were the first words of the conversation.

She nodded. 

"What's a pretty girl like you staying out on a night like this?" He asked.

"Nothing, really, just waiting."

"Waiting?"

"Yeah, for a boy, to sweep me off my feet like he did before."

The man chuckled, "well, I reckon it wouldn't be so much to ask how he did it before."

"No, not at all... It all started when my mother died. My father and I moved place to place to find a home that felt like actual home. This was the place that we went to stay a summer to see how it went..."

It all started here...

I unpacked my bags in the hotel room. Another move, we've been at this for two years... we haven't been able to get a house. I guess it doesn't help that my father gains a ton of money from his job, which allows us to move a ton. I looked up from my bags to see my father standing in the doorway. His head was held about a foot below from the ceiling. He had a rugged beard from not shaving for so long.

"I'm serious Krystal, I think this is it." My dad smiled at me.

"You've said that in like the other twenty places we've stayed at." I replied.

"You never know."

My father was right, I don't think I did. Perhaps, in the one in a million chance that this will be the place that we could finally settle in.

"Why don't you go walk around, to see the terrain of this area." My father suggested.

Perhaps I did need some air. It was really expensive to pay for a hotel for 3 months. Luckily my dad's business pays for it. I got out of my room and walked to the elevator. I firmly pushed the button to go down. I expected this place to be like all the others that we've been through, but somehow something feels different. The elevator opened it's doors for me to enter, and so I did. I pushed the ground floor button. The elevator moved downward. We use to live in New York, till my mother died. The elevator abrubtly stopped. The doors opened. I started outside of the hotel. I saw a lake that was a few meters away. I think I should stay there for a little bit. All this travel makes me sick. At first, I didn't mind it, but after meeting people, then just moving out. I never seemed to get used to it.

I sat down near the edge of the lake, and started to admire the breeze. I closed my eyes. I could smell the fresh air, how it coolly passed my nose, forcing me to smell it's tastyness. I could feel the air, it was a hot day, but somehow the air felt crispy. I opened my eyes slowly. I looked to the left of the lake. There was a boy my age, he was sitting down on a folding chair. He was working on something, it was placed on an easel. Curiousity took the better of me. He wasn't painting on it yet, I could see his supplies layed out on a table. The materials he had were clearly used often. 

"Are you stalking me?" The boy asked.

"Ack!" I started, "No, no... I was just... curious."

"Yeah, that's what they all say."

"Whatever, what are you drawing?"

"I'm drawing the outlines of the lake, so that I can paint it."

 I admit, the boy was cute. He had blue eyes and dark brown hair. He sat upright in his chair, listening to music to his left ear. I didn't know too much about painting. But enough to make a conversation.

"What medium are you using?"

"Acrylic, I'm painting on stretched canvas."

"Oh... ok... Umm."

"... Damn"

"What?"

"Nothing," The boy said, "Do you wanna join me with a drink at the coffee shop close by?"

"First, tell me your name."

"Westley, Your turn."

"My name is Krystal."

"That's a beautiful name if I don't say so myself."

I stood there astounded. He's trying too hard. He's not subtle at all. But for some reason I enjoyed the comment. My face felt warm.

"Oh, blushies. So, yes or no on the drink?"

"uh- yeah."

He packed his painting and his chair that folded nicely into his backpack.

"Please, take my hand."

Westley gently placed his hand in front of me.

"We just met." I replied.

"Oh, but I'm no stranger."

There was something about him, he made me so good inside. It's hard to explain. Or rather... Inexplicable. I took his offer and put my hand on top of his. He firmly took it and led pulled me in closer to him. He grinned. He held my hand as if we were a couple. I can't believe how fast he could move to me. He had this vibe to him. Already, I liked him. He led me to a coffee shop. Well, it's actually pretty popular. 'Starbucks' is what the letters formed at the top of the building. He led me inside of the building. There was no line inside the building.

"Cafe Latte please," Westley ordered, "make it a tall."

"Ok, how about you." The cashier asked me.

"Umm..." I looked at the menu in the back, "...Iced Vanilla Latte, also make that a tall. Please." I replied.

The cashier put punched numbers into the cash register. "Do you wanna make that 2 different orders, or just one."

"Just one, I've got it." Westley said.

"No, you don't ha-"

Westley smiled and looked at me, and said firmly, "I'm serious, I've got it."

"That'll be $6.09." The cashier said.

Westley already knew the damage. He payed exact change. 

"I feel like I should pay you back." I said.

"You will, but in words."

We found a table inside. It was near the entrance of Starbucks. 

Side note

"So let me get this straight.," The man with the fishing pole said, "There was a boy you just met, and you're already on a date with him?"

Krystal nodded, "well, I don't know if you could call it a date, but yeah it was something like that. He was really good at getting me to speak."

"So what did he make you talk about?" The man asked.

"Just let me finish the story."

"Wait a second. Is it okay if we actually move to Starbucks. There's no fish biting."

The tide became low, and the fish went closer to the forest that was across the lake. Krystal didn't care. For all she knew, she had to be at Celebration, that's where they would meet. They had no specific meeting place.

"Yeah, sure."

Moments later, they found themselves in the Starbucks coffee shop. The man's supplies were to the side of him.

"So, please, if you would continue."

Krystal nodded...

Background Stories

"A CAFFEE LATTEE AND AN ICED VANILLA LATTE!" One of the workers shouted.

Westley got up to get the drinks, and he brought them back to the table. He passed my drink to me. I could feel the ice cold plastic.

"So tell me about your family, and why you're moving all the time." Westley said.

I took a long sip of my drink. Where should I start? I thought to myself.

"I used to live in New York," I started, "My mother died two years ago. She died of cancer. You should know, we loved our mother very much. We couldn't stand the idea of not being with our mother. So, my father took a traveling offer. He travels all across America to work on... I'm not really sure, but really, his primary objective is to find a place to stay at. I dunno what he does, but it does pay him handsomely. So we stay at different places and different hotels every summer. So that's most of my story. Your turn."

He smiled. He looked at me and said, "I'm sure there is more to you, but I'll find that out later. I used to live in Louisiana. With my dad and my mom. My dad used to draw a lot. I have some of his paintings and sketches. He was amazing. However, he was quite the patriot as well. He joined the military. He died when I was three or four. I heard he died because he selflessly saved his comrades, by covering a grenade before it exploded... a rather tragic cliche. But anyway, we