this actually started out as one direction fanfiction. then i paused for a second and rethought my life.
SOMETHING THAT I WROTE THAT I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO WITH ANYMORE, BY RENEE P.
She came back outside, scrunched against the drizzle, a brand new jumper cable wrapped underneath her coat. Suddenly, the sky cracked, and the clouds were illuminated for a furious second, sending her scampering through the puddles and into my car.

“That was fast,” I said as she fought to get her breath back.

“Yeah, well, this place is creepy,” she said with a shudder, sending droplets into various directions. “In and out. Here.”

She handed me the cable, and after taking a deep breath, I braced myself for the thunderstorm and stepped outside. While we had managed to steer the contraption under an awning, the frayed fabric above us was riddled with holes that dripped rainwater. I had only jumped a car twice before, but never during a thunderstorm. I was either going to pull out of here with a triumphant grin or be electrocuted to death.

She leaned out of the passenger window, frowning. “Well, ya gonna do it or not?”

“Yeah, give me a second!” After lifting up the hood, I attached one end to the beat up VW Rabbit and the other to the awaiting Camry stationed behind us. The owner of the auto parts shop had shouted down his son working in the attic to graciously assist us, but by now, he was snoring loudly in the driver’s seat, the remnants of his chain smoking wafting out of the open window. I gave her the thumbs up, and the engine roared beautifully to life with a turn of the key, jolting the sleeping man awake.

“Oh thank God,” I breathed, slamming the hood down after pulling the cables off.

“You guys good?” He looked crabby, but I gave an affirmative nod of the head, said thank you, and jumped into the car before speeding out of the parking lot and down the road.

“Phew,” she almost shouted when we began driving smoothly, then rolled down the window, stuck her head outside, and yelled a, “WHOOOO!” at the top of her lungs. She was hysterical now, the rain pelting her face, her eyes crushed together and her mouth open. We were laughing together, both open windows letting in the rainwater and allowing the coolness of the London September exhilarate us.

 “Ya wanna get food? Like greasy hamburgers?” she breathed when she pulled her head back in. “They’ll never know we fixed the car so fast.”

“Yeah, definitely. I want McDonald’s so badly is physically hurts me,” I said, groaning as I pulled up behind a queue of stubborn traffic. She punched the button for the radio and twisted the nob until the bass notes pounded painfully against my eardrums. I knew we were being the annoying American tourists, but I couldn’t help but start dancing when I noticed a mousy, white-haired couple in their car look sideways at us with sour expressions.

After ten minutes, the cell phone in my pocket buzzed to life, and I scrambled to answer it, tossing it sideways after fishing out of my pants and lowering the radio’s volume. “Answer it.”

“Who is it?”

“Rusty.”

“Crap! No, you answer it!”

“I’m driving!”

“Hell, we’re in bumper cars!”

“Do it!”

“Hello? Oh, hi Rusty. Yes. Yeah, well, we’ve been at the auto parts shop for a while now. Huh? Oh, well, actually, it’s more than that, they said there’s something wrong with the…transmission. Yeah, sorry. Okay, I will. What time will you guys be back at the villa? Oh, okay then. See ya.”

She pressed the red button with a small chuckle. “They ain’t going back till seven at night. Girl, we gonna pretend all day we were at the auto place.”

“Wait, what?”

“We gonna go round town, girl!” She started dancing to the radio edit of “Call Me Maybe,” which was only the first song in our karaoke session down the east side of London, the first half a mix of American and British pop that we ad-libbed half of, and the other half a drawn out serenade to the Avett Brothers with some pseudo-Greek chanting mixed in.

By the time we had circled the same neighborhood three times looking for a burger joint, we realized we had passed a rather discreet McDonald’s tucked in at the end of a quiet block. We parked outside and filed in, wharfing down some ice creams and French fries before going out to dance in the remains of the thunderstorm.

“It’s not rainin’ too—“

“Wait, do you hear that?”

She furrowed her brow, concentrating, then her eyebrows shot up when she heard the same faint mewing of someone crying.

“Poor guy,” she said quietly while turning the edges of her lips slightly down, then began to turn back to the car when I whispered a, “Wait,” and tiptoed into the alley.

 I heard a, “God, not again!” behind me, but I ignored it as I peered around a green, overflowing Dumpster. I saw the subtle shadows of a figure shaking slightly with sobs, and I felt a tug from a deep within my chest.

“Are you okay?” I asked quietly into the air, and immediately the sounds stopped. I held my breath. Pursing my lips, I inched closer, finally catching a glimpse of his face in the weak daylight.

His light brown hair was tousled and pointing in several directions, while his face was streaky and red. When he caught my eye, he swallowed and stared at me, drilling me through the face with frighteningly pure blue eyes. I couldn’t will myself to exhale, caught in a staring match with someone who clearly would do anything to make me disappear.

“Um,” I breathed, pausing. “Um, I-I’m really-I’ll go—“

“Wait.”

My heart stopped.