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Halloween, the classic children's holiday. Candy, costumes, decorations. All of that.
I personally never liked Halloween, for no particular reason, just the idea of dressing up as Frankenstein's monster, or Clint Eastwood. Going house to house, asking random-ass people I've never met for candy from a huge bowl. I never liked much of it, but I did enjoy the sugar rush after eating my weight in candy within 45 minutes of coming back home from asking strangers for candy.
When I turned 18 in April, I decided for good that I would no longer ask people for candy. No more! Done.
The End of my story!
No, but really, I abhor Halloween.
I just moved in to my apartment a couple months ago. I was promoted at work, and after crunching some numbers, I realized I would finally be able to move out of my parents house. I eventually found a place, a quiet one. My neighbors are quiet, but unfortunately, of course, they go all out with Halloween. I've seen some decorations at some home renovation stores, and I got to say, they charge those decorations up about three times. On a fixed income, living paycheck to paycheck, you can bet I won't be spending my hard earned dollars on some spider webs and an inflatable.
The neighbor to the right of my apartment room, however, has a fake little spider thumb-tacked to her door. I've been meaning to talk to her, because from what little I've seen of her face, she's a specimen.
———
I walk out my front door at about 9:30, to go for a jog to help keep in shape. As soon as I shut my door, I hear the door of the girl I've been meaning to talk to. She steps out, and shuts the door, then looks at me with a small hint of surprise. She smiles.
"Hi!" She says in a friendly tone. She is pretty, just as I thought. A pretty face, slightly wavy dishwater colored brunette hair, that goes down to mid back. Her green eyes look happy and wide. I look down her white shirt, then at her legs, which are open for display thanks to her short pink jogging shorts. Her shoes, a pure white pair of jogging shoes. I look quickly back up to her face.
"Hello, good morning." I say with a grin, and we shake hands.
"I'm Caitlyn." She says with a cute tone.
"Beautiful name. I'm Rant." I say complimenting her. She blushes lightly, and grins again.
"Rant? I haven't heard that name before." She says.
"It doesn't mean anything, it's just something my parents though was cool when they were in their thirties, a hundred years ago." I say looking up to the sky. I look down to see her giggle, and try to hide it with a small fist. Her giggle, I love it.
"I love your giggle." I say with confidence. I skim over her toned body, and beautiful legs.
"Thanks." She blushes.
"I'm sorry, but may I ask how old you are?" I don't usually ask girls that question, but better safe than sorry.
"I'm eighteen, my birthday was in May." She says looking down at her shoes.
We sit in silence for a couple seconds, until she speaks.
"Listen, I was just going for a Saturday jog, the mornings nice, would you like to come with me, Rant?" She asks. I look at her face.
"Sounds good." I say to her. We walk down the stairs to the pavement, and we start our jog down the sidewalk. I'm not a gym person, but I've kept in good shape with push ups, sit ups and occasionally my dads bench press. I've kept my stomach looking good, and my chest good. My arms are always proud. Like I said, my muscles aren't the biggest, but I've gotten myself toned over a couple of years. My black flat bill hat is turned backwards, because I didn't want to do my hair this morning. Already planning a jog this morning, I already have my jogging stuff on. Her ponytail sways left and right across her back while she jogs just a few feet ahead of me. I momentarily pick up my speed to get to her side.
"Do you play any sports?" I ask her, my voice moving up and down with my steps. She looks at me.
"I did in high school, but I just graduated and moved into that apartment. I played softball."
She says holding up her hand like she was holding a ball.
"And you?" She asks.
"I was a safety all four years." I say, noticing she is now getting a little tired.
"What's that?" She asks panting. I look at her.
"It's defense. I, along with another, were combined to be the last line of defense, the fastest guys on the team. Me and him." I say, slowing my jog to match her tiring strides.
"Fastest huh?" She asks with a grin. "To the white line." She yells.
Before I can respond, she takes off in a full blown sprint. The white line she chases, is a mere eighty yards away. I grin.
"Oh it's on!" I yell, and my safety instincts kick into overdrive, and I bolt at record speed to catch in her no time, and to tease her, I match her stride for stride, and she smiles. Then when the line is about twenty yards away, I sprint full speed, whizzing past her, my legs almost turning into wheels. I stir up leaves in the path, and I concentrate on the yellow, red and orange memorabilia of fall. I shut my eyes. The air cool and calming in my lungs. Just as I feel as though I'm ready to stop sprinting, I hear a sound behind me, and I open my eyes and turn, and I stop on a dime. I see Caitlyn laying face down on the concrete, leaves falling around her. I yank my body in her direction, and I sprint to her. I stop just to her right side.
"Shit are you okay?" I ask. She opens her eyes to look at me, and through her eyes, I immediately recognize pain. She reaches down and points at her ankle. My heart skips as I think she broke her ankle, and guilt rushes over me. I bend down by her right ankle, and I look at her.
"Is it broke?" I ask.
"I don't think so, my foot landed in a hole and I twisted it, but it really hurts." She says in a long grunt. I gently pick up her ankle with my right hand. "Can I take the shoe off?" I ask.
"Please." She says. I untie the pink and white shoe, and I pull it off her heel. I set the shoe down, and I hold her ankle between my hands.
"It's not broke, but it is already swollen." I say. I look at her, still holding her ankle. "Let's get you back to my place, I've got Gatorade, and more importantly, ice packs." I say.
She chuckles quietly. "How am I gonna walk there?" She asks. I think for a moment. I reach my hand out to help her up, and she accepts, grabbing my right hand with her left. I pull her up, and she stands on the left foot, but keeps the right up. I grab the shoe and hand it to her. I reach under her, and I pick her up. I sweep her into my arms like a man does to his newly wedded wife. She settles in my arms, thankfully she's not heavy. She wraps her arms around the back of my neck, and she looks up at me. I start jogging back to my apartment.
————-
I gently set the ice pack down on her ankle. She leans back on my couch with relief. She keeps her bare foot up on the coffee table. I stand up.
"Gatorade?" I ask. She opens her eyes to look at me.
"Yes please." She says, sticking her tongue out a little, as if she was parched.
I turn around and walk into the kitchen, and I open the fridge to grab the Gatorades. I turn around and set them on the counter. I peer through the opening built into the wall that separates the kitchen from the living room. Straight ahead, sits Caitlyn. Her eyes closed. I stare at her pale sole, scrunched slightly from her heel resting in the coffee table. I don't notice her eyes open until its too late. I catch her eyes, and she catches mine.
I turn back to the counter to act like I'm doing something. My heart skips when she speaks.
"What were you looking at?" She asks. I look up, and I notice she's grinning.
"The coffee table. I thought it had scratch marks." I come up with.
"I don't know." She says. "It kinda looked like-..."
"It doesn't matter what it looked like." I say, cutting her off. She grins again, and cocks her head. I walk into the living room, and I sit down beside her. She turns her head to look at me. She speaks.
"So uh, whats wrong with the coffee table?" She asks, wiggling her painted toes. Their painted in celebration of Halloween. Her big toe is painted orange, then her second toe painted black, and it continues that pattern.
"Um, I thought I saw a scratch." I say. She smiles.
"You were looking at my foot." She says with a grin.
I jump to my defense.
"No, I wasn't." I say, shaking my head.
"Yes, you were." She says with another grin.
She shifts her body to face mine.
"Do you have a foot fetish?" She asks, and she makes my heart skip.
I move my body uncomfortably. I glance at her, then I awkwardly look around the room. I almost want to fake a heart attack to get out of this situation. I take a drink of my Gatorade.
"Listen, it's okay. I've got a foot fetish too." She says, resting her hand on my shoulder.
I cough violently. Her saying that made me choke.
Now I really do think I'm gonna have a heart attack.
"What...?" I say in between coughs.
She waits until I've coughed my lungs up before she speaks.
"Yeah. I think feet are sexy. But, only girls feet, ya know?"
