It was spring time but quite hot, especially for London. I'd only recently returned from my travels and everything still seemed slightly surreal. My mum had already been on the phone, "Lola, when are you coming home?" she'd asked. I know; my parents had been cruel when naming me. Still, it was a talking point, especially when travelling. I was glad for this as I've never been the most confident of people and don't think I stand out. I mean, people may comment on my long jet black hair but otherwise no-one seems to pay any attention to me. Not that I was ignored when travelling, particularly during one stay in...but I'll come back to that.
My mum would have to wait. I'd flown in from New York this morning but decided a few weeks ago that I couldn't just go straight back home and that it would be cool to hang out in London for a couple of nights and catch up with some old friends. I'd checked into cheap but cheerful hostel just near Camden and was sitting on the bus enjoying the afternoon sunshine. The journey was made more enjoyable by a passenger who got two stops previously. I was watching the world go by when we pulled up near the bridge. Sitting down, with his back against the wall was this pretty but serious looking guy in his early 20's. His dark hair was short, messy and sort of spiked up. His slender but well toned arms were pale considering the sun but then he was sitting in the shade. He had sharpish cheekbones and a real pout and he casually stood and ambled onto the bus. He only glanced briefly at me before sitting down 3 chairs in front of me.
I watched him as he lifted his arm and brushed his fingers through his hair and imagined running my hand down his chest and kissing the top of his arm, up to his shoulder, letting my hand go under his tight black t-shirt. I wasn't sure if it was the sun through the window or my thoughts but I was certainly feeling a little hotter.
I hoped the guy would get out at my stop. I had time to kill before meeting Ruth so maybe I could just get out when he did? Or should I talk to him now? When traveling I'd gotten used to chatting to strangers and making friends so why was this different? I don't know. That's a lie. I did know, it just sounds odd, especially now knowing what I do, having done what I've done. So what was it? A feeling? A sense? His aura? I don't know what you'd call it but I'd picked up on something from this guy that made me tingle. It was excitement, fear and apprehension rolled together. I found myself just staring at the back of his head, mesmerized by his every movement. Then...
Then he turned round very quickly. He kept his shades on so I could only imagine his eyes. His lips started to turn up and a faint, suggestive smile took me in and sent another jolt of excitement right through my body. Very slowly, and very deliberately he lifted up his shades and fixed me with an intense stare from the palest blue grey eyes I'd ever seen. He stood up, backed away and then turned, pressing the bell and floating down the stairs in one easy, graceful movement. I waited a heartbeat before following.
Off the bus I nearly lost him but decided to follow at a distance. He never once looked back. Through the crowded streets I just kept his unruly dark hair in view and tracked him as if in a trance, managing to just keep up by jostling through the crowds. It was strange, it was like everything was choreographed for him as it was effortless for him to keep moving at the same steady pace with no-one getting in his way.
He turned down off the main Camden high street and waltzed down the canal pathway. I suddenly wondered what he was up to as I knew from past trips that this is where you went if you needed to score. Whether it be a little bit of dope or a few pills. He went past the more obvious stoners and I had to follow at a more discreet distance. He paused near a barge and two girls approached him, they had a brief conversation and they laughed and he just smiled. They then followed him to a nearby park that was small and deserted. I crept in and went to the other side. Near a bench they stopped and from where I was I couldn't see what was exchanged between them. I thought they would then go their separate ways. I looked at my watch, I had 30 minutes before I had to meet Ruth, maybe I should go introduce myself? When I looked back up I nearly missed them moving behind the bench, behind some trees and shrubs. My pulse quickened. I thought I should leave. But I wanted to see what was happening. I couldn't just stay here. Before I knew what I was doing I'd moved quickly across the park and behind a tree near the bench I could just see the three of them. Up close the girls looked younger. One looked just a few years younger than me, about 18, with bleached hair. Well, it was cut into a severe bob and it had been streaked – kinda punky looking. She had a ring through her nose as well, but it didn't stop me noticing how pretty her face was. She'd taken off her brown, tattered jacket and was now just in a tight white vest which showed off quite small breasts. The girl was quite tall, just a few inches shorter than the guy but looked taller due to high heeled, knee length boots and shapely legs going up to a short, denim skirt.
