All I Want is You
01

He hit me with his car.

Okay, to be fair, I wasn’t really paying attention to my surroundings. I stepped on the road to cross - stupidly assuming there were no cars - and lo and behold! I was on my rear-end faster than I could say my full name (and my name wasn’t even long).

The shock of the impact didn’t quite register as I gazed at my fallen items forlornly. I felt no pain and saw no blood so I knew that I wouldn’t be suffering anything as serious as cardiac arrest anytime soon (even though I was expecting it since the whole shock factor would be registering… disregard the fact that I had no open wounds).

Even so, I automatically began to check myself. My breathing was returning to normal; there was no pain anywhere in my chest cavity, abdominal cavity… arms, legs, back. I was fine. I couldn’t say the same for my donut, though. Darn.

Honestly, I was prepared to handle my unfortunate situation with an air of maturity (or something close to that). I was all set to flash a smile and excuse his mistake - and mine, I admit… mostly mine - with an air of grace. I was willing to ignore my sleep deprivation, because we all know that I’m beyond irritated and irrational when I am sleep deprived. I was willing, damn it.

Of course, that was all before he stepped out of his sleek convertible, waving his cell phone at me - wasn’t talking and driving on your cell phone illegal? - and yelling like it was entirely my fault.

Before I knew it my hands closed around the donut next to me and the cup in my hand half empty (its contents were happily spreading on my jacket)… and threw it in his direction. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d make the aim because my hand-eye coordination was nonexistent.

Imagine my shocked horror when the cup emptied itself on his expensive looking white shirt.

My jaw dropped before I clasped my hands over my mouth and abruptly shot to my feet. I slowly dragged my eyes upwards and spotted his tightened jaw. I swallowed inaudibly before meeting his furious gaze. Oh, crap.

Was that chocolate cream on his cheek? No, never mind, I shouldn’t be thinking of that right now.

I spotted the interesting shade of red creeping up his neck toward his ears and the tick of his eyebrow. Despite this horrific situation, his expression was kind of… funny.

“And what are you smiling about? Is this amusing to you?” he snapped and, disgusted, roughly wiped his cheek.

My amusement vanished and I felt a swirl of embarrassment, shame, and anger. Well, sorry.

I ignored the snowflakes falling and momentarily blocking my vision when it landed on my eyelashes. I crossed my arms in front of me and assessed him through narrowed eyes. I absolutely abhorred it when people spoke to me as if I was below them.

“I was going to apologize,” I said, “but then you had to open your mouth and be a jerk.”

“Oh, and I suppose I should be hugging you for nearly causing an accident?”

“Who’s the one talking on the cell phone?” I nearly snapped.

“And who’s the one too preoccupied with their precious donut and hot chocolate?” His dark, irritated looked probably matched mine. Do not mess with me when I’m running on four hours of sleep in the last 48 hours.

“We wouldn’t be arguing if you just admit that it was your fault as it was mine,” I raised my voice. “And maybe step down from your holier-than-thou throne and see that not everything runs according to what you believe, got it?”

His expression went from anger, to complete surprise, and back to fury. I guess no one‘s really spoken to him like that. He seemed like the type that always got what he wanted through intimidating glares.

“I wouldn't even be here if a moron hadn’t stepped onto the road,” he said, his voice nearly a shout. “And even if that moron had, I would have been long gone if she hadn’t thrown her stupid hot chocolate and donut at me. Seriously, who does that?”

Okay, it was on reflex; and how dare he even use that when he stalked out of his la-dee-da beautiful car screaming profanities like I stabbed him from behind.

“I do,” I practically yelled. “And I am not a moron.”

“Your actions are pretty moronic.” He leveled me with a you’re-beneath-me stare that caused my jaw to drop in disbelief. I have not met anyone as unbelievable as him.

“At least I didn’t hit someone with a car. I could sue you.”

Right, an empty threat. Firstly, I don’t have the money to waste on cows like him. Secondly, said cow wasn’t worth my time; and thirdly, he isn’t important enough to go through the effort of that procedure.

Even so, he seemed undeterred. In fact, he just rolled his eyes at me. “You go and do that.”

The rigidity of my neck was beginning to cause a strain. Fortunately, my neighbours haven’t come out of their houses waving broom sticks and telling us to shut up. The impulse to kick the snow in annoyance was great, but I kept it at bay. He was staring (make that glaring) at me in such intensity that it was starting to get to me.

“Yes?” I said in my controlled-irritation tone.

“You owe me a new shirt,” he commented detachedly.

I—what?

“Excuse me?” I asked in total disbelief. “What makes you think that I owe you a shirt?” I stared pointedly at the white shirt under his blazer and noted how the exposed parts were covered with a brown stain.

Oh. “It’s called the laundry.”

“It’s called a stain,” he copied my tone.

Okay, that was it. I cared not for my demeanor as I waved a fist in his direction. He was just another stranger in the world I’d have the pleasure never to meet again. We’d go on in life remembering this incident as The Unfortunate and tell this silly little occurrence as the product of a small nudge from a car. (Note my light terms used concerning The Unfortunate.)

I whirled around and began to walk away from him. There was an ugly feeling in my gut. Why did he have to have the last words? Why did he get the glory, causing his opponent to walk away, while he stood there probably smirking smugly? Oh, pride. What you do to me.

After a few steps, I whirled back around. My face was flushed as I opened my mouth to shame him with my witty retort.

“You can take your stained shirt and shove it up yourass, you jerk.”

Anyway. Yeah. I’m calm now. That was a week ago and it’s old news. Not that I’ve forgiven him because . . . Well, that’s just a funny thought. Not funny as in, ha-ha-I-died-of-laughter-that-day. It’s the funny as in, ha-ha-like-hell-that’s-ever-going-to-happen. Because it’s never going to happen, so ha.

Even though I do admit that was rather . . . childish of me.

Oh, who am I kidding. My actions were shameful considering my age. What would my classmates think? What would my parents think? That they raised some sort of lunatic who can't act her own age? However, due to my slight insomia, I have convinced myself (during odd hours in the morning) that my loose temper lashed out on The Stranger was the result from three essays due the next day. He caught me in the wrong mood. He caught me on three hours of sleep, for crap's sake.

But what's done is done. It's all in the past, baby.

Lively colours that consisted with either green or red filled my vision suddenly when I felt something being shoved into my arms. I stumbled backwards and towards a wall in surprise. “Meg.” I twitched, steadying myself and tried looking at her with all the presents in my arms. “Warn me when you’re going to do that.”

My younger sister smiled. She was six years old and already I could tell that she was going to be a heartbreaker. She took most of my mom’s looks, as did I. But I hardly think that I’m as pretty as my mom. It’s true that I look like my mom, but people also say that I look like my dad.

“Mommy said to bring them to the neighbors,” Meg said cheerily, tugging on my elbow towards the front door. “Can I come? Please? Please?” She clasped her hands together and did a perfect imitation of me when I was younger when I wanted something from my parents. It worked on them, so obviously it was going to work on me.

“Get your coat on,” I instructed in a sigh. I placed the stack of presents on the ground for a while whilst I put my boots on. I grabbed my jacket and shrugged it on just as Meg bounced down the steps with her gloves and jacket. I gave her the smaller presents and we walked across our yard towards our neighbors.

My parents were good friends with our neighbors. Their kid was about Meg’s age and they played together a lot. Meg was first to make it to their porch and rang the door bell. I noticed the extra bounce in her step and smiled to myself. I loved my younger sister.

I was in the middle of counting how much light bulbs they had on their Christmas lights when Mrs. Cowen opened the door. “Hello Desiree,” she greeted enthusiastically with a warm smile. “Hi Meg. How are you both?” she exclaimed before pulling us both in before we could answer. “Merry Christmas!” she chimed.

“I’m fine,” I said in a laughing tone, stomping the snow off my shoes outside before fully stepping inside. Meg did the same. I gestured to the presents. “These are for you.”

She looked surprised. Like, genuinely, as if she never knew she was going to receive any. A bright smile tugged her lips quickly though. Mrs. Cowen had always been nice to us, ever since they’ve moved in a few years ago. She’d always invite me for cookies or cake, or any sweets, basically . . .

“Aw, that’s so sweet of your family.” She hugged us both quickly before motioning for us to follow her. I noticed then that there were people in her house.

“Christmas party?” I asked.

“My sisters and their families are over,” she commented. “Actually, my younger sister came to visit their son who works near here and I invited them over.”

“Oooh.” I nodded in understanding.

“How about you find Ashley?” Mrs. Cowen smiled at Meg who brightened. “I’m sure she’d love to see you.” Meg nodded enthusiastically and dashed off somewhere. Smiling, I watched her run before turning back to Mrs. Cowen after I placed the presents underneath the overflowing Christmas tree. “I have your presents upstairs,” she told me.

I was surprised for a brief moment before smiling and nodding when she told me to make myself feel at home and grab some food in the kitchen. I stood there for a while before moving.

Well. This was awkward.

Shrugging to myself, I decided to make the most of it. Hey, I got free food, so why not? And it wasn’t like it was totally awkward where I felt out of place. I could dig this. I weaved around little children who were laughing and tripping over themselves. I took my time to admire them and inwardly squeal on how adorable they looked. Especially this one boy who had the most amazing blue eyes I’ve ever seen and a mop of brown hair. Aw . . .

Before I began to feel like a stalker, I tore my eyes away from him and made my way to the spacious kitchen. I knew for a fact that they renovated this room because damn, it was way bigger than mine at home. Adults mingled here and there, along with a few preteens who were giggling with boys in the corner. A thoughtful smile came to my face. I remember when I was young . . . Now I felt old. Jeez.

Catching sight of the table swarming with food, I casually walked over and grabbed a paper plate. I took a slice of cake and made myself comfortable leaning against a wall. I was on my last bite when Mrs. Cowen came up to me.

“The bag near the front door has your presents in it,” she told me. “Oh, you don’t have to leave!” she said. “I called your parents and invited them over. They’ll be here in a few minutes. Eat as much as you want!” She grinned brightly.

I returned her smile warmly. “Thank you, Mrs. Cowen.”

She chortled. “Dear, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Louisa? I feel old when you call me that.”

I laughed lightly. “Louisa it is then.”

“That’s better.” She patted my arm warmly before excusing herself when one of her nephews began tugging her away for something. I decided to stuff my face with food, like she implied for me to.

I am not a pig, I swear.

I was in mid-chew with one of my pizza when a teenage boy approached me. He was tall but it seemed as if he was unused to his sudden height with the way he walked. His baby face made me smile at him, though. He’s pretty cute. In a baby way, of course. I’m not a pedophile.

“Hey,” he said easily in a charming voice. This should be interesting. “I’m Liam. Who are you?”

I blinked. Pretty forward, aren’t we? A wry smile tugged my lips. “Desiree.” I began chewing on my crust thoughtfully, noting how he averted his eyes all over my face. I gave him a strange look. “Um, I’m not your cousin if you’re wondering . . .” I said awkwardly.

A chuckle escaped him. “I know. You’re much hotter. And I don’t check my cousins out,” he assured me.

My eyes widened before I began to laugh insanely. Confusion etched on his face and I quickly stopped my laughter. “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I didn’t mean to laugh. You’re just very forward, did you know that?”

He nodded solemnly. “It’s a problem,” he agreed. “So, how about a date?” he prompted.

He was quick. I couldn’t help but smile. “I’m sorry, Liam. I’m much too older for you to date.”

He frowned. “How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“No way!”

I nodded, amused. “Way.”

He kissed his teeth. “Well, damn.” He sighed. “I’m fifteen,” he said glumly. “Are you sure you’re not willing to try?”

“Sorry.” I patted his arm reassuringly. “But I’m sure there’s someone out there who’s willing to got out with you.”

“You make it sound like I have trouble picking girls up.” He narrowed his eyes at me.

“I don’t think girls appreciate it when you say it like that.”

He muttered something under his breath before stalking off somewhere. A smile still lingered on my face as I watched him do so. He’ll grow into his looks and he’ll have girls left, right, and center. I only hope that he's learn how to treat them with respect.

I chewed the rest of my crust thoughtfully as I heard my parents at the front door greeting the Cowen pair.

“Nicely handled,” a voice was heard to my right. “If I were you I would’ve just punched him to go away.”

A polite smile came on my face as I turned to the source of sound to acknowledge his words. I began swallowing my crust to talk before I caught sight of his face. My eyes landed on him before I began choking. I sputtered and coughed and gagged. I even stumbled backwards. My eyes began watering as my hand clutched my throat protectively. I saw him hold out his cup of water and I took it greedily, not caring at the moment. Once the food was down my esophagus safely, I turned to him, more wary than furious.

“First you hit me with your car, and now you’re trying to choke me to death?” I said wryly with no conviction my words should have held. Well. How would I greet the person that practically ran me over? With a bright smile on my face? Now there's a positive thought.

He gave me a look, regarding me with disinterest. I take it he took note of my tone. Hell, he probably didn't forget about our last encounter. “I just saved your life. Is that the way you treat your hero?”

I stopped myself from clucking my tongue. “You caused it.”

“Actually . . .”

Okay, apparently he's holding a grudge. That's okay, since I'm most possibly doing that as well. I held up a hand. “No. I don’t want to hear it.” I could be blunt when the time called for it. “What are you doing here?”

A frown quirked his eyebrows, probably matching my own expression. “And how it that any of your business?”

I twitched before I could stop myself, unsure of how to answer. It isn’t my business, that I knew. But I also didn’t want him to have the last word. Ah, pride. What you do to me.

“I thought so,” he said. He pointedly turned back to his food, obviously ignoring me.

Rage settled itself in my stomach once again without warning. God, his arrogance!

I placed more food on my tray before I began to stalk out of there. I bumped into my parents and the Cowen pair at the entrance to the kitchen. I also felt hot daggers at the back of my head and I knew he was staring at me. Awkwardly, I stepped away.

“Ah, there you are!” Louisa said, rushing towards something a few feet away from us. Reluctantly, I turned when curiosity began eating me away. And I saw him being tugged forward by Louisa. He was about pretty tall, now that I wasn't glaring between his eyes.

“Junior, Dakota,” Louisa said, addressing my father and mother. “This is the genius I’ve been telling you about.”

Genius?

“Oh we’ve heard a lot about you from your aunt,” Mom said enthusiastically. “You’re only twenty-five and you’re already one of the top lawyers at your firm?” You could tell she was impressed by the sound of her voice.

Of course. Since he’s a—wait, what?

I sputtered inwardly at the news. What the hell? He was a lawyer? Since when—okay, obviously, I wouldn’t know since when since I only met him a week ago. And that wasn’t even official, but what the hell? How could he be—

This was—

He—

No wonder he wasn’t worried when I said I would sue him! I stared him down hard when he was talking to my mom with a charming smile on his perfect face (even I can't lie for long—and God, I'm jealous of those cheekbones). How dare he underestimate me? Just because he’s twenty-five with an excellent career and a high paying job does not mean that he has the right to treat me like—like—like I’m a kid.

I know for a fact that he only considers me as a child with the way he's sticking his nose up in the air like that.

“—and this is Desiree,” Mrs. Cowen finished with a bright smile. His eyes were on me and I found myself staring into a pair of cobalt blue eyes.

I jerked back and forced a smile on my face. Mr. Charmer didn't bother gracing a smile for me. Not that I'll stay up at night wondering whether I'm good enough for him or not, because honey, please.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said in my most charming voice. I did a pretty good job, if I do say so myself. I didn’t sound constipated as I strained those words out of my throat. It actually came out quite easily.

“Desiree’s on her way to become a med student,” Mrs. Cowen told him. I didn’t even know his name. “She’s planning to be a doctor, isn’t that right?” She smiled at me then. I always chatted with Mrs. Cowen every now and then, telling her about my school and talking about the future. She was almost like a mom. I could go to her with my problems and I wouldn’t feel awkward about it, as I would with my mother (ie. boy trouble).

My smile came easier. “Yes, it is.” I was about to automatically ask him what he was majoring in when I realized he already had a job. A wry look came to my face. He just quirked an eyebrow in my direction.

They talked amongst themselves whilst I stood there, tuning them out. Gradually, I inched away before I was out of the kitchen and away from his presence. I ambled to the living room, to the basement, and I found myself heading upstairs. My food was long gone and now I just wanted to find Meg, or something.

I was up the staircase and I felt like wheezing. How many stairs did they have? I glared down at the staircase before walking towards Ashley’s room, where I knew Meg would be. However, before I did that, a door to my left abruptly opened and kids that couldn’t be more than six swarmed out. They seemed to be arguing.

“No, you’re just a baby,” the tallest one sneered. I blinked. He was talking to the youngest looking one. Realization dawned on my face. He was the one I saw downstairs with the blue eyes and brown hair. Instead of a smile on his face, he had his big blue eyes brimming with unshed tears and his lips clamped down to keep from crying. I felt my heart clenched.

“Yeah,” the two other boys behind the taller one echoed.

“Buh . . . I know how to play . . . Me and my daddy aways play,” he whispered.

“No!” And he was pushed backwards.

I gasped and instantly stride over to where they were standing. I brushed past the taller boy and glared at him. “What’s wrong with you?” I practically fumed. I don’t care if he was just a six year old. This kid had attitude problems. “Why won’t you let him play?”

“Because he’s a baby!” He stuck his tongue out before they all left, laughing to themselves insanely as they ran away.

I narrowed my eyes even more. Evil cretins. My hands were still balled into fists when I turned back to the little boy. I had to stop myself from squeezing him into a tight hug. He was staring down at the floor with a broken look on his face. He still looked cute, but it was the heart wrenching cute, you know?

I reached out tentatively. “Hey there, don’t be sad,” I said softly, brushing his chin so I could look into his eyes. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he bit on his bottom lip hard. My face scrunched up and I wiped his cheeks.

“I jus wanna play,” he said, his voice sad. He sniffled and that seemed to set him off because he started crying, sobs and everything. Before I could even reach out, he launched his tiny body towards me and balled his hands into a fist on my shirt. My arms wrapped around him and I began rubbing his back soothingly as I did with Meg whenever she was upset.

“C’mon now, don’t cry. Hey, how about I play with you?” I brightened at the idea and he seemed to like it as well because he stopped sobbing and looked up at me with innocent blue eyes. I think I melted right there.

“Really?” he said in awe.

“Yes,” I grinned and stood up. I set him on the ground gently and he suddenly took my hand as we began to walk.

“Can daddy play, too?” he asked in his baby voice, grinning up at me as he tightened his grip a little.

“Whatever you want, little man,” I said and he giggled, clasping his free hand over his mouth. I smiled automatically, warmly, and we set off to a journey to find his father.

We past by Ashley’s room and we stopped walking. I saw Meg and other children sitting on the ground, talking excitedly to someone. I heard a distinct male voice and I made a strange face. I felt oddly warm inside. Now that was cute.

I cautiously stepped inside and Meg saw me first. “Hi, Des!” She smiled brightly. I smiled back and I felt the little boy’s hands leave my grasp. Before I could even think, he launched himself into the room and towards a certain person.

It was as if time had slowed down. My eyes followed his movements confusedly before it turned into undeniable surprise when a set of strong arm opened and caught the smaller body.

“Daddy!”

That was when my eyes met cobalt blue.

Author’s note:

Tim Hortons is not owned by me.
edited: dec 29, 2007