1 First Meetings

I sighed deeply.

I know. I know. That really isn't the best way to start a story. It should start with a suspiciously vague statement or a really over-the-top play-by-play of a one second occurrence. Good stories don't start with a sigh, it starts with a scream, or a gasp or something that took my breath away. But how was I supposed to know that a story will begin at this very moment? For all I know, this isn't a beginning of anything, it's just an afternoon like any other of some uneventful day, a continuation of a relatively depressing year and a fairly shitty life.

However, if I knew that this moment would be a beginning of a story that I would retell for countless of times, I definitely would have done things differently. I would have paid attention to everything. The weather, the shape of the clouds, the humidity, the warmth of sunlight penetrating the glass window, the unnatural tingle it gives combined with the breeze of mall air-conditioning.

Because that is how stories like this starts, right? Followed by an insanely specific description of what I look like, what I am wearing, and an odd emphasis to my hair and eye color.

Unfortunately, that is not how this story starts. You see, if you still haven't figured it out, I didn't pay attention to anything. I never knew what I look like, since the last time I glanced at a mirror was about 6 hours ago. I already forgot what goes with my Harry Potter T-shirt I was wearing. I did not care about my hair, but if I would guess, it would be all over the place with my fast-paced walking. I never noticed that there was a guy I was about to run into until my paper bag full of books were sprawled across the mall's tiled floor. Yes, I first met him at a mall, so romantic.

Now at this moment, you would have guessed there would be something. A spark as our eyes meet, a flash of recognition from our past lives in which we always fail to end up being with each other, an internal voice saying, "See that boy? I'm gonna marry him someday."

But nothing, the guy just looked at me apologetically and said "I am so sorry," then glanced at the direction he was initially running towards. He looked back at me as I started picking up my books, and just stands there as if second guessing what he should do. Before I could reply to his apology, he is already gone, sprinting away.

That was it. That is the 'beginning'. No prolonged stares. No moment spared for a killer smile, a handshake, not one single thing. He was just gone before I even determine the color of his eyes. What the heck? What is it with stories and eye color? I digress.

Like an independent woman without any need for a hint of romance nor any validation from a member of the opposite sex, I picked myself up along with my paperbag of books and trudged away.

It took me five seconds for my thoughts about the man's need for speed, his manners, sexuality (what kind of straight male squanders the chance to help a girl pick up her 'things'?), what awaits him in the other direction, and other curiosities to settle and move on. Afterall, it probably would take forever to see him again.

Okay, that was an exaggeration. It took me approximately 8 minutes to divert my attention to Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Cards but by then, I swear to God, I already forgot it ever happened. The presence of too many anime merchandises and too small of a budget to buy any has already forced my mind to succumb into a state of trance.

Oh right. Why was I at the mall alone in the first place? For this story to make sense, you must understand that my sister is a bitch when pregnant. And while her boyfriend who knocked her up is still in college, thus can't cater to her every need, I was the one thrown into the battlefield like a freaking Pokémon. Don't get me wrong, I love my sister and would have loved to spend so much time with her if she weren't a colossal pain in the ass. While I understand that his precious boyfriend can't take care of her because he is "focused" on studying, its like they forgot that I am ALSO in college and trying to "focus" on studying. At least trying to, when I'm not too freaking lazy to ditch it.

Anyways, so there was I, just got out of class when my sister called me to join her at a mall to eat some McFries. No, I can't just bring it to her, she wants to eat INSIDE the McDonalds. No, she doesn't want to eat in any other McDonalds it has to be this one (which is a freaking 2 ½ hour commute from my university). No, her boyfriend is busy. No, she won't share. Yes, I can just meet her there. And so, I waited for forever trying to distract myself by bumping into strangers and being hypnotized by anime merchandise when she finally replied to my texts (which I sent in 10-minute intervals) with an astonishing, "Sorry can't come. Max already brought me some."

Like I said, a colossal pain in the ass.

My plan for revenge is simple. Go to the aforementioned McDonalds. Grab some dinner. Take home five large fries. Eat it in front of my evil sister while she cannot do anything but stare at me, presumably salivating.

And so, I did, but found myself with a tray full of fries and a McSaver Meal but no table to eat on. My day is starting to shift from the "usual bad" into "dreadfully shitty" until I glanced at the farthest table and saw him. He's here. The guy I bumped into. I unconsciously smirked as I made my way into his table. Seems like I can fulfill another revenge.

As I walk closer to him, I begin to make out his appearance. He seems to be tall and lanky, at least from what I can figure out with him sitting. Broad shouldered but still thin, thick eyebrows, and chiseled cheekbones with the glare of the lights on his glasses almost hiding the hint of brown in his otherwise soft black eyes. His hair that seems to be cut just days ago emphasizes the man's attractiveness. I continue to walk.

"Excuse me, are you with someone? Can I sit with you?" I asked.

He stared for a couple of seconds, not knowing what to do before saying, "Uh, no. It's okay. You can join me."

I smiled at him and slid my tray onto the table settling my purse and paperbags at my side. He continues to stare for a while until he puts his head down and starts to fiddle with his spaghetti.

"I'm sorry for earlier by the way," he said without looking up.

"Sorry for what?" I answered, trying to act like I don't recognize him.

"For bumping into you earlier. I know I shoul- "

"You were that guy?" I cut him off acting as if I didn't know.

He paused for a little bit then continued, "Yes, I was 'that guy'. I was chasing someone and I didn't see you. I-uh, I'm sorry I didn't help you. I was in sort of a pinch," he explained.

I stared back at him before nodding slowly, "It's okay."

It so definitely was not okay. When will this guy drink what's in his cup? I thought to myself as I continued to eat. There were a few minutes of silence as we both alternate from minding what's on our plates and staring out the window before I had my chance to strike. He lifts his glass filled with soda and drinks.

"So, are you gay or something?" I blatantly asked. He choked mid-gulp and sets down the glass, trying hardly not to spit what's in his mouth. I barely contained myself from laughing as he catches his breath after forcing to gulp down whatever's left in his mouth.

"What?" he asks.

"I was just wondering why would a straight guy waste away his chance to bump into a girl then help her pick her stuff up. It's a universally accepted way to meet someone, even I wouldn't have squandered that. And trust me, I have squandered a lot of things," I reasoned out.

"My phone was stolen! I was chasing the miscreant," he answered.

"Oh," I guess that makes more sense. "Did you catch him?"

"No, I lost him when I bumped into someone," he grunts frustratingly.

"So you're cheering yourself up with a Happy Meal?"

"Yes, I was thinking this Beast Boy Disc Launcher could function as a rebound to my broken heart," I laughed at that. Seeing that he has an adequate sense of humor and just used the word 'miscreant', I guess he isn't too bad afterall. I was thinking of maybe sharing him one of my large fries as I drink out of my glass.

"So are you gay or something?" It was my time to choke. It took some time to recover but it took more patience to not tear his head off as I look up and saw him not even trying to hide his laughter.

"What? You said you wouldn't squander the chance to bump into a girl," I just glared at him while he just smiled, "So you're just a Gryffindor then with all your chivalry?" he said, noticing my Harry Potter t-shirt.

"No, in fact I am a Slytherin," I proudly confess.

"I don't believe it. We Slytherins do not reveal what house we're in until we know for sure that the other person is also a Slytherin."

"You do know that saying that sentence contradicts everything, right?"

"Am I a Slytherin, though?" he is grinning now.

I stared at him for a second then looked away. Silence filled our table as we continue eating. I pulled out one of my large fries and placed it in the middle of our table when I noticed he is about to be finished with his Happy Meal.

"Can I ask what your name is?" I was surprised by this. It seemed like we were close enough to tease each other without knowing both our names.

"You just did."

"No, I asked if I can ask your name."

I sighed impatiently. "Yes, you can."

"What's your name?"

"Jesse"

"Like Team Rocket Jessie?"

"Like Breaking Bad Jesse. Full House Jesse. Yu-Gi-Oh! GX Crystal Beast user Jesse," I grinned at him. There's nothing like throwing out a shitload of random references.

"I have no idea where the first two came from, but I'm pretty sure the last one's a Johan," I was surprised he knew the Yu-GI-Oh! reference which is the most obscure of the three. Okay, maybe I was more surprised that he doesn't know Breaking Bad but don't get me started on that.

"It was Johan only in Japan, everywhere else, it's Jesse," he just nods. It's my turn to ask. "What's your name?"

"Ash"

"Like Pokémon trainer Ash?" I scoffed at the thought.

"Do I strike you more as a Brock?"

" No, I just never pictured what an Ash looks like. At first, I thought you're a Jasper or a Carl, a Parker may be a stretch."

"What's with all the name stereotyping?" he asked, leaning closer as if the conversation just got interesting.

"Come on, don't tell me you haven't noticed that people are what their names are. Abigails are crazy, Candices have annoying voices and Pauls have this inflated ego, it's one of the many mysterious laws of the universe," I said with too much enthusiasm. He seems to not mind though, and looks like he's entertained by my blabbering.

"Wait, so you're saying that I am an exception of that law because I don't look like I want to be the very best that no one ever was?"

"No because Ash never was the very best, the loser never even won a Pokémon league after 19 freaking seasons, but if it makes you feel better you make a heck of a Satoshi," this made him laugh, rebutting his Johan-Jesse remark earlier with Ash Ketchum's Japanese name.

"Just say I have a terrible name," he grunts. This made me smile a little.

"Hey, I never said that. I said Ash Ketchum's a dumb pedophile. Though your name doesn't fit you perfectly, I like it. It reminds me of a poem I read once."

He stops mid-devouring a handful of fries and became too curious all of a sudden. "What poem?" he asks.

"Just something I read in a romance novel," I said trying my best to get out of reciting a poem to a stranger. He arcs his eyebrow and continues to stare.

"Jesse, what poem?"

I sighed deeply. Not knowing the irony that this story began with a sigh just like this. Knowing that there is no way out of this, I replied,

"Fire burns blue and hot

Its fair light blind me not

Smell of smoke is satisfying, tastes nourishes my tongue

I think fire ageless, never old, and yet no longer young

Morning coals are cool; daylight leaves me blind

I love the fire most because of what it leaves behind"

He just looked at me quizzically for what one would call an insanely long period of time in which I am left with nothing to do but finish my meal and look out the darkening sky across the window before the ringing of my phone interrupted whatever it is that is happening between us. I looked at the caller ID as it flashes out the "Mom", then answered the call.

"Jesse, where are you?" my mother asked with a hint of panic in his voice.

"I was out buying fries for the big baby, Mom. Why? Is something wrong?" I start to worry.

"Just go back home right now, we need you here. Your sister's in the E. R."

"Wh-Why? What happened?" my mom blurts out unrecognizable words so I just cut her off, "It's okay Mom. I'll be right there."

I hang up the phone and saw Ash's worried look, "Is everything okay?" he asks.

"I don't know what happened but my sister's in the E. R. I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly," I said as I start picking up my stuff.

"Don't sweat it. Do you need any help? Are you okay going alone?" he asks with genuine concern.

"I'll be fine. Thank you for keeping me company Ash, and for the table. It was nice meeting you," I said with a smile as I stood up and motioned to leave.

"Wait," he said, I turned and look back at him still seating at the table but with his foot outside the table as if he's also about to stand up, "The poem. Why does it remind you of me?"

I smiled and cleared my throat, knowing that I will also be saying the same lines as the one in the romance novel it came from, "It's ash. What the fire leaves behind. It's Ash."

He smiled, content with my answer. "Goodbye Jesse," he said.

"Goodbye," I said. Then turned around and walked away.