DreamOutLoud13
Blue Crack Addict
Couldn't sleep (but when can I?) so I got up to write this short little fic that had been bouncing around in my head:
Teenage Rebellion
It was full-on Autumn. Summer's heat was gone, and now there was nothing left but cool air and fallen leaves. Those leaves smelled the same every year, and they always brought to mind childhood memories. Running down the sidewalk in the late afternoon, your feet crunching through a carpet of yet-to-be-raked leaves, and always the thought that you had to be home by dark.
It was dark now, and cold. Lindsay felt like an idiot. She'd quarrelled with her parents and then run out of the house without thinking to grab a jacket. It was stupid, but she'd been angry at the time, and logic rarely thrived in a place where anger dwelled.
Now, sitting on a park bench and shivering, the anger had turned in on itself. It was no longer just her parents that Lindsay was angry with, now she was angry with herself as well. If she'd just thought to grab her jacket on the way out, she wouldn't be sitting here feeling so miserable. But she couldn't go back, not now, not yet. The thing about teenage rebellion is that it's stubborn. Going back now would be admitting defeat. She needed to show them that she wasn't a baby anymore, that she could handle herself and didn't need them controlling her life. Going back now, cold and defeated would only show them that she was still a child who couldn't even remember to grab her godamn jacket before rushing out into the cold.
Lindsay lowered her head and sighed. She couldn't seem to do anything right. Her throat was beginning to get that all too familiar lump in it. The tears were coming, she could feel them building up behind her eyes. Until now she'd had her arms wrapped around herself, in some effort to stay warm, but now she brought them up and covered her face with shame. She was too old to be sitting here crying over something so stupid.
She was so wrapped up in herself, that she didn't hear the footsteps approaching, didn't hear them stopping, didn't know that she was no longer alone until she heard a gentleman address her in a posh accent.
"Are you alright?"
Startled, she raised her head, not even bothering to try and hide her wet cheeks. An older man was standing on the path in front of her. He had a kind face and a head of short, silver hair. A slew of emotions coursed through Lindsay's mind. First shame at having been caught crying, then anger at the man for disturbing her, when clearly, she wasn't feeling sociable, and last jealousy for the very warm-looking brown leather jacket the man was wearing.
Lindsay shook her head and wiped her cheeks with the heel of her hand. "Obviously not."
"You must be freezing half to death. Here." He said, and began unzipping his own jacket.
"No." She said, in spite of herself. She'd love to have that jacket right now, but her emotions were too twisted up at the moment to make much sense.
"Nonsense." He said and draped it around her shoulders.
The man's body heat still dwelled in the soft lining of the jacket, and the warmth seemed to soak right through her chilled skin immediately. Still, for a split second she defiantly thought of shrugging right out from under the jacket. But she came to her senses and slipped her arms into the warm sleeves.
"Thanks." She said, snuggling herself into the oversized jacket. "I'm Lindsay."
"Adam." He said, sitting down beside her on the bench. "What's really wrong?"
Now that she was warming back up, Lindsay's anger with herself seemed to have melted away. Now only the anger at her parents remained. "Oh nothing really." She said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "I got into a fight with my parents, and I ran out. As soon as I feel I've been gone long enough for them to realize that I'm not a baby anymore, I'll go back." She paused. "I only wish I'd brought a jacket."
"Ah, teenage rebellion." He said, and she shot him a glare, but he was smiling. When he saw the look she gave him, he nodded his head knowingly. "I was young once too, you know."
"And how did you rebel against your parents?"
"I grew my hair into a fro, dressed as wildly as I could manage, and joined a rock band."
Lindsay couldn't suppress a grin. She found it very hard to imagine this proper looking gentleman as a wild teenager in a rock band. Those days must be long behind him now. They had to be, high school bands never survived very far into adulthood. "How long did that last?"
"Which part?"
"The band."
"Believe it or not, we're still going."
Lindsay raised her eyebrows and looked over at him again, just to make sure he was as old as she'd thought. He looked at least in his forties. "You guys must be seriously dedicated."
He laughed. "I guess we are."
Lindsay was racking her brains to think of any local bands she knew that had been around longer than she'd been alive. She couldn't think of any. "What are you called? I wonder if I've heard about you."
"Have you heard of U2?" He said, amusement creeping into his face.
Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Oh whatever, you're not U2. U2 are huge. And Irish too. You don't sound Irish. What are you really called?"
He shrugged sheepishly. "We're called The Larry Mullen Band."
She hadn't heard of them after all. But with a name like that, it was no wonder. "No offense, but that's a boring name. Who the heck is Larry Mullen?"
Luckily he didn't look offended in the least. He looked even more amused now. "Our drummer. He started the band."
"Well no wonder he got his name into it. Is he nice?"
He gave a slight chuckle. "I suppose so."
"Well," She said, getting up. "I think you're nice. You let me wear your jacket and you don't even know me."
"You were sitting alone in the dark, crying and shivering. It was the least I could do."
"Thanks again. I think my parents have suffered enough though. I'm going to go home with a smile on my face, and show them that I can handle myself." She took the jacket off and held it out to him.
He stood and took the jacket, but didn't put it back on right away. "Do you have far to go? I could get you a taxi."
"No, it's just a few blocks, I'll make it. I have to walk farther to get to school every day."
He nodded. "Okay, if you're sure." He pulled his jacket back on. "I'll see you around."
"Bye." She said, waving as she turned away to walk back home, smiling.
---------
Yes, I like writing these short 'close encounters of the U2 kind' stories, though this one went a little different, with the band member not being recognized, for a change. I almost wrote it so that she did recognize him, but this seemed a little sweeter. Who knows, maybe she'll go home and google 'The Larry Mullen Band' and figure it out
Teenage Rebellion
It was full-on Autumn. Summer's heat was gone, and now there was nothing left but cool air and fallen leaves. Those leaves smelled the same every year, and they always brought to mind childhood memories. Running down the sidewalk in the late afternoon, your feet crunching through a carpet of yet-to-be-raked leaves, and always the thought that you had to be home by dark.
It was dark now, and cold. Lindsay felt like an idiot. She'd quarrelled with her parents and then run out of the house without thinking to grab a jacket. It was stupid, but she'd been angry at the time, and logic rarely thrived in a place where anger dwelled.
Now, sitting on a park bench and shivering, the anger had turned in on itself. It was no longer just her parents that Lindsay was angry with, now she was angry with herself as well. If she'd just thought to grab her jacket on the way out, she wouldn't be sitting here feeling so miserable. But she couldn't go back, not now, not yet. The thing about teenage rebellion is that it's stubborn. Going back now would be admitting defeat. She needed to show them that she wasn't a baby anymore, that she could handle herself and didn't need them controlling her life. Going back now, cold and defeated would only show them that she was still a child who couldn't even remember to grab her godamn jacket before rushing out into the cold.
Lindsay lowered her head and sighed. She couldn't seem to do anything right. Her throat was beginning to get that all too familiar lump in it. The tears were coming, she could feel them building up behind her eyes. Until now she'd had her arms wrapped around herself, in some effort to stay warm, but now she brought them up and covered her face with shame. She was too old to be sitting here crying over something so stupid.
She was so wrapped up in herself, that she didn't hear the footsteps approaching, didn't hear them stopping, didn't know that she was no longer alone until she heard a gentleman address her in a posh accent.
"Are you alright?"
Startled, she raised her head, not even bothering to try and hide her wet cheeks. An older man was standing on the path in front of her. He had a kind face and a head of short, silver hair. A slew of emotions coursed through Lindsay's mind. First shame at having been caught crying, then anger at the man for disturbing her, when clearly, she wasn't feeling sociable, and last jealousy for the very warm-looking brown leather jacket the man was wearing.
Lindsay shook her head and wiped her cheeks with the heel of her hand. "Obviously not."
"You must be freezing half to death. Here." He said, and began unzipping his own jacket.
"No." She said, in spite of herself. She'd love to have that jacket right now, but her emotions were too twisted up at the moment to make much sense.
"Nonsense." He said and draped it around her shoulders.
The man's body heat still dwelled in the soft lining of the jacket, and the warmth seemed to soak right through her chilled skin immediately. Still, for a split second she defiantly thought of shrugging right out from under the jacket. But she came to her senses and slipped her arms into the warm sleeves.
"Thanks." She said, snuggling herself into the oversized jacket. "I'm Lindsay."
"Adam." He said, sitting down beside her on the bench. "What's really wrong?"
Now that she was warming back up, Lindsay's anger with herself seemed to have melted away. Now only the anger at her parents remained. "Oh nothing really." She said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "I got into a fight with my parents, and I ran out. As soon as I feel I've been gone long enough for them to realize that I'm not a baby anymore, I'll go back." She paused. "I only wish I'd brought a jacket."
"Ah, teenage rebellion." He said, and she shot him a glare, but he was smiling. When he saw the look she gave him, he nodded his head knowingly. "I was young once too, you know."
"And how did you rebel against your parents?"
"I grew my hair into a fro, dressed as wildly as I could manage, and joined a rock band."
Lindsay couldn't suppress a grin. She found it very hard to imagine this proper looking gentleman as a wild teenager in a rock band. Those days must be long behind him now. They had to be, high school bands never survived very far into adulthood. "How long did that last?"
"Which part?"
"The band."
"Believe it or not, we're still going."
Lindsay raised her eyebrows and looked over at him again, just to make sure he was as old as she'd thought. He looked at least in his forties. "You guys must be seriously dedicated."
He laughed. "I guess we are."
Lindsay was racking her brains to think of any local bands she knew that had been around longer than she'd been alive. She couldn't think of any. "What are you called? I wonder if I've heard about you."
"Have you heard of U2?" He said, amusement creeping into his face.
Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Oh whatever, you're not U2. U2 are huge. And Irish too. You don't sound Irish. What are you really called?"
He shrugged sheepishly. "We're called The Larry Mullen Band."
She hadn't heard of them after all. But with a name like that, it was no wonder. "No offense, but that's a boring name. Who the heck is Larry Mullen?"
Luckily he didn't look offended in the least. He looked even more amused now. "Our drummer. He started the band."
"Well no wonder he got his name into it. Is he nice?"
He gave a slight chuckle. "I suppose so."
"Well," She said, getting up. "I think you're nice. You let me wear your jacket and you don't even know me."
"You were sitting alone in the dark, crying and shivering. It was the least I could do."
"Thanks again. I think my parents have suffered enough though. I'm going to go home with a smile on my face, and show them that I can handle myself." She took the jacket off and held it out to him.
He stood and took the jacket, but didn't put it back on right away. "Do you have far to go? I could get you a taxi."
"No, it's just a few blocks, I'll make it. I have to walk farther to get to school every day."
He nodded. "Okay, if you're sure." He pulled his jacket back on. "I'll see you around."
"Bye." She said, waving as she turned away to walk back home, smiling.
---------
Yes, I like writing these short 'close encounters of the U2 kind' stories, though this one went a little different, with the band member not being recognized, for a change. I almost wrote it so that she did recognize him, but this seemed a little sweeter. Who knows, maybe she'll go home and google 'The Larry Mullen Band' and figure it out
Adam to the rescue
Adam is so sweet 
