Page 12
Story: Meet Me on Love Street
I chuckle, drying my hands with a kitchen towel.
I hand him a clean one from the drawer near the sink.
“Seriously. Especially spring rain. It smells so mysterious and makes everything look so shiny, but also spooky. It’s like…
everything is the same all the time, but then suddenly water falls from the sky, and it makes you see everything in a new way.
It feels… romantic. I don’t love what rain does to my hair, though.
” I laugh as I pull my hair back using the hair tie on my wrist. “Welcome to my apartment. Do you want something to drink? A bigger towel?”
He’s taken off his wet hoodie. The blue T-shirt under it is mostly dry.
“I’m fine.” He looks in front of him into my living room, and I can’t help wondering what he’s thinking.
This little place is about the furthest thing possible from a King City mansion.
His house is probably a lot like Dad and Noureen’s.
I love our place. It’s just small. And cluttered because there isn’t a lot of space since there are plants on every surface.
It feels like there are more plants up here than downstairs in the flower shop.
The kitchen, where we’re standing, is narrow and long.
Cabinets line one wall, and open shelves line the other for pantry stuff like spices and countless cans of chickpeas.
The bathroom is next to the kitchen, and thankfully it’s pretty big.
Right after the kitchen is our tiny dining room with a table covered with a busy floral tablecloth pressed up against the wall.
Then our small living room. It has a big window, and the walls are a raspberry-pink color right now.
Mom’s and my bedrooms are off the living room.
Mine is a bit bigger than Mom’s—she gave me the bigger one so it would fit a desk for my schoolwork—and it has a bay window overlooking Love Street.
Miles has slicked his wet hair behind his ears, and somehow the rain has made his lashes even curlier. “I think the rain has already slowed down,” he says.
I tear my gaze away from him. “I’ll get the bike pump.” I open the last kitchen cabinet, the one Mom and I call the garage because it’s where we keep all the things we’d keep in a garage if we had one. After finding the bike pump, I hand it to him.
“Thanks,” he says, taking it. “I appreciate it.”
“No worries. I couldn’t leave you stranded, could I?”
“Yeah, w-well…,” he stammers. He runs his free hand through his hair, which makes it messy again. He can’t seem to keep his hands out of his hair. “I’ll go pump up my tire.”
I open the door and move aside so he can head out. “Do you need help?” I ask as he steps onto the balcony.
“No. I think I can figure it out.”
“Okay. I’m going inside,” I say, then close the door.
I sit at the dining table and start unlacing my Converse high-tops.
I’m pretty soaked, so once my shoes are off, I go to my room and quickly change into a pair of purple leggings and a cropped black sweatshirt.
I peel off my wet socks and throw them in the laundry hamper.
When I come back out into the living room, Miles Desai is standing alone in my kitchen, looking a little lost and a lot adorable. Damn that Cara for putting the idea in my head that he’s my type. It’s true—I do have a thing for nerdy Brown boys.
“I think your cat hissed at me,” he says. My cat, Zuri, is at his feet, glaring suspiciously at Miles.
I laugh as I scoop Zuri into my arms. She immediately climbs onto my shoulder and wraps herself around the back of my neck, purring. “Storms make her nervous.”
“It stopped raining,” he says.
“How’s the bike?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I think it might have a leak. I tried to put air in, but it doesn’t seem to be filling. Do you know a bike shop that can repair a tire around here—and cheap?”
Miles is clearly having money problems… just like the rest of the street.
I wonder why his wealthy King City family isn’t helping him.
“It’s probably a hole in your inner tube,” I say.
“I heard bike thieves are puncturing tires so people will leave their bikes in the park, and then they steal them in the middle of the night when no one’s around.
If you’re short on cash, why don’t you fix the tire yourself? ”
He looks at me like I just suggested he perform open-heart surgery on himself.
I laugh. “You don’t know how to fix an inner tube? I have a patch kit you can use.” I kneel to open the garage cupboard, and Zuri jumps off my shoulder.
Miles is still looking blankly at me, then runs his hands through his hair again. “I’ve never done it before.”
I shrug. “No biggie. I can show you.” I take the patch kit—a small plastic box—and the toolbox out of the cupboard and slip my bare feet into some slides.
He shakes his head. “No, it’s not necessary. I—”
I turn to him and put one hand on my hip. “C’mon, Miles. I know you think I’m vapid and superficial, but trust me. I can fix an inner tube. I’ve been doing my own bike maintenance since I was eight.”
His brows knit together. Miles Desai also has nice eyebrows. Too bad they’re always furrowing. “I never said you were vapid and superficial.”
“You thought it,” I say lightly. I smile at him, hoping to make him trust me. “Seriously, you don’t have to like me to let me help you.”
He gives me one of his blank stares, and there’s the Miles I know. That lost wet-puppy look was confusing me… making me think he’s more attractive than he is. I’m on familiar ground with his sour mood. “What makes you think I don’t like you?” he asks.
“Um, just about everything you’ve said to me, plus all your body language since we met? You called my ideas trite and saccharine, and you implied the only thing I cared about was the way a thing looks . You think I only want to rebrand the street for the vibes .”
His eyebrows furrow. “Well, you called me judgmental and too stuck-up to understand you or this community!”
I exhale. I don’t think anyone has been able to push my irritate buttons more than this guy.
“That’s because you act like you know what’s best for Love Street better than the people who have been here forever.
You pick apart every idea any of us has before we can even find out if they are feasible!
We’re being optimistic and hopeful, and you’re only shooting us down! ”
He shakes his head. “There’s optimism, and then there’s delusional thinking. What’s the point of working so hard on something that won’t make a difference!”
I shake my head. I should tell Zuri to hiss at him some more.
This is exactly what my mother said about the BOA—that there was no point working with them since they had no control to fix anything.
I have no idea how people can be so pessimistic.
“C’mon, Mr. Glass Half Empty. Let’s fix your stupid bike before the sun goes down. ”
He recoils. “You still want to help me with my bike?”
“Of course I’m still going to help you. You work here on Love Street, which means whether I like it or not, you’re a member of my community. I’m not going to let a member of my community get ripped off by the bougie bike shop on Queen East.”
He stares at me for a while. Why is this guy always staring at me instead of speaking? Finally, he sighs. “All right, fine. Show me how to fix it.”
I toss him an oversize sweatshirt that was hanging on a kitchen chair as I walk past him to open the back door again. “Here, put this on. It’s getting cold out.”
If we’re going to be doing this, then I need him to cover up a bit.
With his hair drying into thick waves and his strong forearms on display, there’s a distinct hazard that I’m only going to grow even more attracted to Miles Desai while helping him with his bike…
which would really suck considering how much I dislike the guy.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12 (Reading here)
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53