6Author's note: Well, hello there! Welcome to a new romance story! Are you ready for this ride filled with awkward, cheesy, and sweet moments? Because, I totally am!
On a more serious note, it's been a while since I last posted anything. I've been working on this story for over a year and I'm almost done writing it. I got this idea in the beginning of 2016 and I started to write it out almost immediately, but then I was busy with school, I was busy not having inspiration and bla bla bla. Now, that it's summer vacations, I want to finish this story and I want to encourage myself to finish it by posting a chapter every week. I already have about 18 chapters written down and I have the ending planned out, so basically I just have to build a bridge between those.
I am very excited about posting this story, because I 've had so much fun writing it. I really hope you guys can like it or even love it just as much as I do. I have to remark that this story is quite different from the one I posted in the past, The Melody of a Hydrangea, not only because of the setting, but also the mood of the story is more light-hearted. If you've read my other story, you'll be able to tell the difference.
Enough of my rambling, go ahead and enjoy this first (rather short) chapter of this lovely story. BTW, thanks for reading!
Chapter 1: Crash
I cranked up the volume of my iPod as "Tattoo" started playing. Hunter Hayes is a sweetheart. I mouthed the lyrics to the music as I turned around the curve that should have led me to my cousin's house.
"Darn it. Not again!" I said halting in front of a stranger's lawn.
I looked around. I was sure this was the right way. That street looked unmistakably familiar, but then I realized that I'd forgotten to count the number of streets as I rode by. Two floor houses all the same colors, —cream, gray, or brick— large front yard with nicely trimmed trees; it's a lovely neighborhood really, but why the heck couldn't the urban planner add some landmarks to make each street visibly different. It was way too easy to get lost there!
By the time I rode around the block and glided toward another curve, I was fuming at myself for this blunder. It wasn't only the planner's fault, really. Right there as I drifted around the corner of a house's wall, I crashed onto another bike, or rather, someone crashed into me. The impact pushed me out of the bike and sent it skidding across the pavement. The rough ground chaffed my arms as I landed on my back. My aunt was going to have a fit when she saw me.
Whoever crashed onto me had fallen from his or her bike too; however, it took him or her less time to recover from the shock.
"Oh my goodness!" I heard a male voice say from across where I was laying. He scrambled off the ground and darted to my side and hunkered beside me.
"I am so sorry," said the guy as he gently placed a hand on my back to help me sit.
"I am such an idiot. I wasn't paying attention—are you okay?" He abruptly halted his apology as I groaned. My back was sore, too.
I could not fathom how I'd managed to fly all the way from the sidewalk to the middle of the street like a projectile. Well, at least I had not cracked my head or anything. That would surely have given my aunt an apoplexy.
I suddenly became aware of warmth burning against my back. A hand. A boy's hand on my back. My cheeks flushed at the realization and then I looked up.
Bad idea. A really bad idea. Cute boy. Awkward system launching in three…two…one.
"Are you okay?" the cute boy asked. Genuine concern dripped from his words.
I tried to get back up, but groaned at the effort. The boy made a motion for me to stay put and then he carefully wrapped his arm around my waist. He slowly pulled me to my feet.
"I am truly sorry," he repeated guiltily as he led me to the safety of the sidewalk.
In a half-dazed state I replied, "I am fine really. It's just a couple of scratches." My voice sounded hoarse. I was still flushed by his proximity. He helped me sit down on the grass and then, went back to pickup my bike.
Only then was I able to take a good look at the stranger. Never, in the five years that my cousin had lived in this neighborhood, had I seen this boy. And, I knew almost every face in this neighborhood because my aunt was acquainted with everyone and she invited people over to her house for afternoon coffee every week. Perhaps, this guy was only visiting a friend of his.
As he fetched my bike, I pretended to be busy dusting off my pants. A shadow swept over me as he pulled my bike nearby.
"I am truly sorry for this," he repeated once more.
His light brown eyes focused on my countenance as he silently communicated an apology. I noticed his hair was slightly combed to the side, yet, somehow casually tousled. I blushed after a few seconds of him staring at me. I ducked my head right away.
"Don't worry. It was an accident," I said as nonchalantly as possible. The stinging in my arms suddenly flared.
"Oh my god!" he exclaimed suddenly. "My sister! I am already half an hour late—I've got to go!" The cute chestnut-haired guy scurried off to pick up his bike and bag. Just as he mounted the bike he remembered. He turned to look at me with large eyes.
"I am such a jerk. Please, forgive me. Can I…is there anything I can do for you?" he stammered.
It was obvious he needed to leave right away; yet, his manners forbid him from being inattentive.
"Oh, no. No," I repeated calmly.
He interrupted me at the same time. "My house is not far away. I can take you there to clean up your wounds."
"Please, don't worry," I reassured him. "My cousin's house is but a block or two away. I'll clean up over there."
The boy eyed me with worry.
"Where are my manners?" he mumbled mostly to himself and shook his head.
He dropped his bike and walked to my side. He extended a hand to me and helped me rise from the ground slowly. Then, he held my bike in place as I climbed onto it.
"I'm truly sorry for all of this," he said once more. He was standing in front of me holding onto the handlebars.
"No harm done…uh not literally though."
His lips twitched at my comment. We held each other's gaze briefly and then he pulled away. We didn't say goodbye. He left promptly after watching me pedal a few feet and when I turned around to steal a glance, he was pedaling at lightning speed down the street. It then hit me: I hadn't even thanked him for being kind and had not even asked his name.
A few pain-filled minutes of riding my bike afterwards, my cousin opened the door for me even before I rang the bell. Her mouth dropped to an "O" as she spotted my scraped arms.
"Is that Kate?" asked an all too familiar voice who was probably in the kitchen wearing an apron and baking carrot cake for tomorrow's afternoon coffee.
"My mother is going to have a fit," she said shaking her head.
"Shhhh!" I said clamping her mouth with my hand.