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When I was a little girl, I used to talk a lot.

I mean, sure, I loved being the centre of attention but that wasn't always why I talked. It was like there were so many things I wanted to know and so many things I wanted to say that when I started I just couldn't stop. It seemed completely out of my control. And it never mattered who I was speaking with. Or if they were conversational or reticent.

In fact, I absolutely adored people who were quiet because one on one conversations were so much easier with them. It was one thing I never minded, filling in the gaps with over sharing. But the curiosity about the other person was always something I couldn't control. I needed to know something.

And even now, years later, I found myself doing the same thing, "So, why don't you tell me how you ended up here?"

The blonde boy, well not exactly blonde but kinda blonde, brownish blonde? Sandy blonde? Whatever, he hadn't said anything since my snarky comment about his mood. He'd finished his hot chocolate and was now just flipping through a book he'd picked from the stand and nibbling slowly on his croissant.

"Uh, oh right," he said, getting a little startled that I'd said something, "I came here for....um.... soul searching."

I grinned at his unconvinced tone, "Yeah, you seem like you really found yourself."

He slammed the book shut and banged his head on it, letting out a whine, "I wanna go home."

"Where is home?" I asked, plopping myself on the slab behind the counter.

He looked up, chin resting on the book, "Sweden."

I raised my eyebrows, "Never been."

"Hmm," he hummed, propping himself up on his elbows, "And you?"

"What about me?"

"Your accent doesn't seem like it's from here," he explained, "Where are you from?"

"San Diego. United States."

"Yeah, I figured," he said nonchalantly, nodding his head. He did that a lot. I'd been studying him for a while now, not because I was creepy or interested or anything like that, but only because I didn't have anything better to do. From what I'd gathered, he couldn't sit still and kept on changing his position, he used a lot of his body gestures to communicate and he rapidly pushed his hair back every 10 seconds as they kept on falling in front of his face.

"So, your flight got cancelled?" I asked.

"Yup."

"And you had a bad trip?"

He shrugged.

"I once had a bad trip," I said because he didn't seem like he wanted to talk or leave but he looked bored, "Once, back in high school, my friend Jax and I decided to go to Phoenix because a band was playing there. I didn't even like that band but I didn't have anything better to do so I was like 'why not', y'know?"

I looked at him as he nodded solemnly and said, "Honestly, 'why not' is half the reason why everything bad happens."

I widened my eyes and slapped my hand on the slab in agreement, "Right?!"

He smiled, "What happened then?"

I starting fiddling with my rings, "Oh yeah, so, the name of the band was Cluttered Buckets," the boy snorted, "and they mostly play like variations of hard metal and rap. Not my cup of tea."

"I like rap, hard metal isn't my scene either," he said, "Although I do like AC/DC."

I smiled slighted, "I'd say I like them because I have a fucking AC/DC hoodie but I've literally never heard any of their songs but highway to hell."

"It's okay," he grinned, a toothy grin, "It's my favourite song of theirs anyway."

"I mean, okay," I started, making explanatory gestures with my hands, "It's not that I don't like hard metal or rap, it just depends song to song. I can't say I don't like a particular genre because my music taste is literally all over the place."

He chuckled and nodded, "Exactly, it literally goes from artists like Harry styles and Billie Eilish to Travis Scott and Post Malone to god, Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald."

"You like Harry Styles?"

He got a little defensive, "Is that an issue?"

"God no! It's just, that's so great! Sometimes boys act like they're too manly and cool for his music when literally I know for a fact they listen to one direction songs to cheer themselves up from their pathetic little lives."

He laughed, "Doesn't everyone?"

I smiled with a shrug.

"Anyway, the Cluttered Buckets....?" he asked, grinning and leaning forward.

Suddenly realising how off topic we'd gone, I shook my head, "Right. So we decided to go on a little road trip. It was like a 6 hour trip and 3 hours in, I asked Jax to stop at a cafe. It was huge and crowded and had the worst coffee ever, so anyway, Jax left to go to the bathroom and then, he just never came out."

The blonde gasped, "What do you mean 'never came out'?"

"I don't fucking know," I said, scowling at the memory, "All I know is, 30 minutes later he texts me that he's found the love of his life. She apparently asked him to leave with her and that the car keys are in the jacket he left on the table with me and that he'd meet me in Phoenix."

The boy scowled, "Shitty!"

I scrunched my nose in a displeased manner, "Yeah, exactly. And when I called Jax to shout at him, he just said that this girl was his destiny and that she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen and he just had to know her. You know, all the sentimental crap?" Blondie nodded enthusiastically, "Anyway, some hippie guy name Franco Franko, that's Franco with a 'c' and Franko with a 'k', overheard my conversation with Jax and asked me if he could get a ride and he seemed like, completely harmless, so I said yes. The car ride with that dude was probably the best part of the whole thing. Franco Franko told me that eating sushi cures lung cancer and because he liked my name, he gave me a pebble called the 'pebble of luck'. Apparently he picked it out from the fountain of Medusa. Then he told me he does art therapy and gave me his number for further inquiries. He also stole 40 dollars from my pocket."

The boy laughed loudly, "For real?"

I smiled sadly, "For real."

"That does sound like a bad trip."

"Oh, it's not over," I tutted, "Apparently the love of Jax's life tied him up, stole his wallet and phone and left him stranded 2 hours away from Phoenix. So, when Jax finally got there he was crying because he got played and we couldn't even attend the Cluttered buckets concert because he wasn't feeling good and I spent the whole 3 day trip listening to Celine Dion songs and consoling Jax."

He furrowed his eyebrows, his mouth agape, a tint of amusement in his voice, "Yeah, that definitely sounds worse than the last few days."

I gave him a tight lipped smile, "Misery loves company. Come on, dump your sorrows."

He pushed his hair back and sighed, "Just had a stressful year. Wanted a getaway and the getaway turned out worse than the year. I mean, don't you ever just feel terribly disconnected and alone?"

I got down from the slab and came towards the counter, "All the time. Sometimes even when I'm sitting in a room full of my closest friends, a random wave of loneliness just hits me."

"I think we all feel like that," he supplied.

"Yeah."

I walked towards the computer placed on the counter and changed the song. Bazzi wasn't really supplying well to the mood. I looked towards the boy and asked, "Do you want to hear something in particular?"

He shrugged, "Just play something with a slow pace."

I bit my lip in scrutiny as I clicked through my playlist. The lumineers, it is.

I turned back towards him and asked, "So, how long are you here for now?"

He scrunched his nose, "The next flight that leaves is on Christmas. I don't feel like travelling on Christmas. I also don't want to be alone on Christmas and if I decide to stay here on 25th, I'll have to wait for the next flight which is 3rd."

"So you're fucked basically," I concluded.

"Tactful," he grumbled as I laughed, "Hey, I'm not giving you any sympathy. I'm alone for Christmas too."

He looked at me, "How com—? Oh! International student. Right."

I nodded.

"You must have friends around though."

"Yeah, I do," I said, retying my bun because it got loose, "But I don't want to intrude on their holidays, you know?"

"Yeah. I get it."

There was a beat of silence and I picked up the empty plate on which the croissant was kept and put it in the dishwasher and stretched my arms. When I turned back towards him, he was widely grinning.

I raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"You're alone, then?"

I scrunched my nose, "Sort of."

"This is perfect!" he exclaimed gleefully.

"Huh?"

He clapped his hands, once, in a pleased manner, "Don't you get it? You're going to be alone. And I'm going to be alone. We can be alone together!"

"Define 'alone together'," I demanded, folding my arms around my chest.

"I don't know. Just hang out. Do weird Christmas stuff," he shrugged, "I'm stuck and you're the only person I've spoken to in this country. So, I think you're obligated. Besides, I don't think you have anything better to do."

I gasped, "I might have better things to do! You don't know me."

He grinned.

I rolled my eyes, "Where are you even staying?"

He scratched the back of his head, "Oh. Um, Castleroy Park Hotel?"

"That's a little far to come from everyday."

He nodded, "I agree."

I hummed.

"Okay, I'll stay with you!" he concluded.

"What?!" I squeaked, "Absolutely not. You could be a serial killer. I could be a serial killer. We don't even know each other!"

"I'm choosing to take the chances. Beats being alone on Christmas," he said, smiling broadly. His teeth were crooked but in a cute way. Suited him.

"I live in a dorm!"

"Do you have rules against inviting people to live in the dorm?"

"No," I admitted, in an unconvinced manner.

"Do you have a roommate?"

"Yes."

"Is she away for the holidays?"

I grunted, "This is a bad idea."

He gave me puppy dog look, "I'm not a serial killer, I swear. And you sort of need me just as much as I need you."

"I don't need you and I don't really celebrate Christmas."

"Oh but it's such a happy time and you're just as alone as I am."

There was a pause.

I let out an amused breath and smiled at him, "Okay fine, but only because it's Christmas."

"Wait, really?"

I shrugged, "If you try anything funny I can shout for the guard. It's a university dorm. There's still security."

"So I can move in for a few days?"

"Sure."

He grinned offering his hand for me to shake, "I'm Edvin, by the way."

I let out a laugh.

We hadn't even bothered to ask each other's names.

I took his hand, "Jamie."

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Hey guys! I see a lot of you adding this book to your reading lists. So, if you're reading and you're genuinely enjoying it, please drop a vote. Thank you :))

All the love,

M.