From: Coop the poop
You still sleepin over tonite???

I yawn, scratching the top of my tangled hair as I sit myself up in my bed, typing back.

To: Coop the poop
Good morning to you too.

I grab the scrunchy that's resting on the red nightstand next to me and I place my phone down on my lap, brushing out my hair with my fingernails and putting it up into a high ponytail.

From: Coop the poop
I'm serious. I have a date at eight and I already got a hotel room. Izzy is already excited so you better come. I don't want her to be alone.

I roll my eyes a little, chuckling slightly before disgusting myself with my own morning breath.
God, I need to brush my teeth. Geez.

To: Coop the poop
Of course I'm going. Calm your balls. And make sure you bring the lube. Don't want you to be cranky the rest of the week like last time.

I get out from my bed, immediately putting on my despicable me slippers and walking to my poster of my King.

'Mornin.' I mouth, receiving no response from Elvis.
He's so conceited.

I stroll over to my closet and I pull off my Captain America hoodie from one of the hangers, the suede brown hanger immediately falling to the floor.
I stare at it for a few seconds before shrugging.
I'll get it later.

I walk back to my bed and I grab my phone, reading Coop's sassy messages.
It's almost seven in the morning; it must be bad for a person to be this stressed this early in the day.

I blame Oxford.

From: Coop the poop
OMG WHY DID I EVEN TELL YOU ABOUT THAT.

From: Coop the poop
I thought we agreed we would never speak of that again.

From: Coop the poop
Whatever. I have it already in my car any way.

From: Coop the poop
So you're coming? Okay. Good. You had no choice anyway. But you know.

I raise an eyebrow and before I can even reply, my phone buzzes.

From: Coop the poop
Oh and Izzy says that since you're going by downtown today, to go up to a homeless person and give him an umbrella.

I type back a 'got it' and press send.

Izzy and I have this thing where she sometimes will tell me to do something specifically. She says that I introvert myself from the real world and that by doing all of these things, I take risks and learn more about people and surroundings and such.

Which for one is major bullshit since I don't think dressing up as Thor and running through an elderly home in the middle of the day helps me learn about people.

Well actually I did learn one thing from that.

Old people don't like girls that run around as a fictional comic book superhero that nudges them in the shoulder with a fake hammer made of styrofoam.
I still do anything she says anyway, but that's besides the point.

From: Coop the poop
You're not walking there right? Sylvia is going to drive you? And she's going to take you to the ward today too?

When it rains, I take my camera along with my longboard to random populated places and usually end up going by myself to the 'ward' or therapy.
Same thing.

But yeah, I always tell Coop that Sylvia takes me since if he found out I go by myself, he would probably never let me leave his sight. He always lectures me on how many women now a days are getting kidnapped and blah blah blah. Yeah, kidnapping is not a laughing matter, but I doubt anyone will take me in such a crowded place. It would be completely obvious.

And besides, if anyone tried touching me, my foot would meet with their family jewels.

To: Coop the poop
No I'm not. She is. And yes mum.

I place my phone in the huge pocket of my hood and I begin strolling myself out to the bathroom, cleaning my face and brushing my teeth before finally walking to the kitchen.

"No, but don't you see how the whole world will lose all of its sources of pure clean oxygen if we don't do simple things like preserving water."

So it looks like my dad's awake already.

I finally saunter into the room, meeting the presence of my dad (I was right. Ha.), my mum, Sylvia, and my oh so delightful sister.

My dad's leaning against the countertop beside my mother who is trying to wash her coffee mug in peace, Gene gaping at them from the table with her phone in her hand and Sylvia rolling her eyes as she reads the newspaper beside my sister, most likely thinking how crazy my parents are.

I go to the fridge and my hand reaches for the box of popsicles, taking out a fruit punch flavored one.

Oh dear god yes for fruit punch flavored ice.

I tear off the white wrapper thing around it before closing the freezer door and placing it in my mouth, my eyes closing in delight.

The room goes silent for a little as I take another lick.

"You do know it's like seven in the morning right?"

I glance over at my mum who is now drying her wet hands with one of those quilted paper towels.

I nod, taking another lick.

My dad just laughs and Sylvia smiles slightly before rolling her eyes again.

"God, no wonder you're so fucking fat."

I shrug at Gene's comment before sitting myself down in one of the chairs.
I'm not the kind of girl that really cares about how fit they are. I'm a medium (sometimes a large) in tops and a size nine in bottoms but I don't really see what the big deal is. I'm considered healthy and sure I have a little bit of a tummy, but what human being doesn't?
"Gene!" My father scolds her, Gene looking slightly taken back, but quickly recovering with a shrug, her attention now going to her phone.

"Winn, I think you maybe eat too many sweets. Too much sugar can lead to depression believe it or not an-" My mum begins, me now trying to shut her and her psychologist talk out.

I'm not depressed.

"So you know it's going to rain all week." My father interrupts.

I thank him mentally, taking another lick of the delicious diabetes on a stick before smiling and nodding.

He smiles back and my mum walks to the bin to throw away the now damp
napkin.

"So you going to go with Coop?" He asks and I shake my head.

He nods.

"You going to hang out with him or Izzy today?"

I nod and I place my popsicle in my mouth before putting my hands together, placing them on on the side of my face and closing my eyes in a sleepy way.
It's not sign language, but that's the only way my family understands me really.
He nods again.

"Sleeping over huh? Okay well just message me when you get there. And be careful alright?"
I nod again before finishing my popsicle.

...

I'm wearing my long sleeve gray cotton shirt, my black ripped skinny jeans, my black beanie, my maroon colored doc marten boots, and my dark blue and
black plaid shirt tied around my waist loosely. My hair is down, slightly tangled but still in loose curls, a coca cola lanyard that's holding my new polaroid camera around my neck and a simple small black umbrella in my hand.

It's pouring right now and I'm standing under a tree next to a faded brown bench that's beginning to seem darker due to the water touching it.

Everyone is beginning to run through the streets, some with their bags over their heads, some with umbrellas, and some actually walking with nothing, not really caring.
I smirk, knowing that this is the perfect time to test this baby out.

But before I can even begin, I have to find a homeless person.

I begin twirling around like a fool as I narrow my eyes in concentration, trying to find anyone that meets the description.

My eyes widen when I spot a frail looking woman sitting on the grass a few feet away from me wearing many layers of clothing along with a cardboard sign that's being held over her head and a lit up cigarette between her teeth, the cardboard shielding it from the rain.
That lady is the definition of a bad ass.

I quickly run to her, opening up the umbrella as I do so.

She immediately catches my gaze, looking me up and down before taking off one of her hands to pull the cigarette out of her mouth, a wisp of smoke merging with the rain drops.

"Got some change on ya?" She questions, her voice raspy and as rugged as her appearance.

I shake my head before putting out my hand that's holding the umbrella to her face.

She leans back a little in surprise and just nods before throwing her cigarette to the right, it instantly going out as it reveals itself to the wet atmosphere.

Her shaky wrinkly hand grabs the umbrella and she drops the cardboard sign on her lap in relief before using the umbrella to protect her from the weather, nodding again.

"Thanks."

I nod too.

As I'm about to walk away, I hear her call my attention again.

"Hey girl!"

I turn around and walk back to her, raising an eyebrow.
With her free hand, she rummages through the pocket of her baggy pants, taking out a white box.

"Want a cig?" She asks, and before I can even question why a homeless woman has a box of cigarettes, I just shrug and nod, taking one of the white tobacco sticks and stuffing it in my pocket.

I'm not much of a smoker, but maybe I can use this for something today.

You never know.

I nod in thanks before giving her a small grin, her reflecting my actions and walking off.
That wasn't so bad I guess.

Okay, well now it's time for what I came here for.

I stop on the sidewalk right in front of the street and I tilt my head up, looking at the sky. My eyes closed as I feel the soothing impact of the falling droplets on my face.

I feel myself laugh before putting my head back down, taking out my phone from my pockets as well as my headphones, putting on my playlist I made, wiping the water off from the screen and putting the volume on max before sliding my device back in its place.

Let's do this.

As Gin Wigmore begins singing in my ears, my smile widens and I hold my camera in my hand.

Here it goes.

I nod to myself before finally running down the concrete walk, taking shot
after shot, grabbing picture after picture and stuffing it into my shirt, placing each one under my bra strap so they don't go anywhere.

Yeah, I'm classy like that.

People always ask why I do this. Why I just take random and even blurry pictures of anything and absolutely anything.

Well, like how Augustus Waters has his own metaphor with the cigarette thing, this is like my own metaphor I guess.

No one just knows about it.

Well except Izzy.

But again, I do anything she says.

So that's the end of that.

People little by little are turning their attention towards me. Even some drivers and passengers are looking at me through their windshields, staring at me as if I'm some fucking alien or some shit, but I don't stop.

My clothes are drenched, my soaked hair sticking to the flesh of my face and I'm loving every bit of it.

Adrenaline is pumping through my everything.
My blood.
My bones.
My soul.

Everything and it feels fucking great.

...

It is now three in the afternoon and after about forty five minutes of taking pictures and two filled bra straps later, I decided to do the responsible thing and go to the ward.

Besides, on rainy days they make coffee.

Fuck yes.

After signing myself in and grabbing my free small coffee, I begin walking to the black hole of a hall.

As I walk, small puddles are forming with each step due to the dripping water from the tips of my hair and clothing.

Therapists and patients gape at me with questioning looks, not having the balls to speak their judgemental thoughts to my face and I just continue walking with no emotion.

Once I get to my spot, I sit myself down on the bench and I look down at my chest, grabbing the many pictures and observing my work.

God, I suck at taking pictures, but I continue smiling anyway.

"You looked like you just swam in a fucking pool."

Oh Lord.

He's here today again.

I slowly glance up, my smile vanished, meeting his sea blue eyes.
His arms are crossed over his chest and he's sitting with his body and head leaned against the wall wearing a black Killers t-shirt, dark blue skinnies, black vans and his longish lengthed hair swept over his eyes slightly in the corner in a messy way.
Awesome shirt, but too bad the owner is the complete opposite.
I raise an eyebrow.

'Maybe I did.' I mouth.

He raises his own eyebrow, sitting himself slightly straighter.

"You're fucking hilarious."

A sarcastic smile spreads on my lips and he rolls his eyes a little.

"What's up with the camera?" He questions, trying to continue this annoying conversation.

I should've known he was here.

I mean a shit load of people were outside again, but I didn't really think much of it.
This is a world renown place, so students sometimes visit with their schools.
But I mean, I doubt they would stay outside in the rain...
So I don't know why I even-

"Fine. Don't answer."

I shake my thoughts and I roll my eyes immediately.

I look down at the pictures in my hand and I just put them up in the air, clearing my throat so
he can look back at me.
He raises an eyebrow again.

"You took those in the rain?"

I nod.

He looks over to his left at the door of his therapist's office before blinking a few times and getting off the bench.

No.

What is he doing.

He walks across the hall to me, and sits himself on my bench.

Next to me.

Why.

His eyes dart to mine, his face still blank.
I can tell he's only interacting with me because he's bored. There's no sign of his cellular device anywhere so he probably left it.
Yay for me.

"Can I see em?"

Take chances Winn.

Izzy's words echoes through my mind and I mentally flip her off.

I hesitantly pass him the stack of photos in my hand and he takes them without even a question.

His thumbs trace over each one, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he observes each one carefully.

"These really suck."

I hear myself snort and I just shrug.

He shakes his head a little before finally handing them back to me, disapproval in his eyes.

"And here I thought you were this passionate and talented photographer or some other shit." He speaks and I shrug again.

'I'm the other shit.' I mouth and he chuckles.

He shakes his head again.

"Nah. You're just shit in general. These really suck." He repeats his words and I shrug again.

"God, I know you can't talk but can you do something other than shrug."

I shrug again and he sighs, holding back a smile.

"Fuck I really need a smoke." He announces before his hand goes in his pocket, pulling out that sick lighter.

Smoking is not even allowed here but I feel that he wouldn't give a damn either way.
He curses yet again under his breath.

He obviously forgot his pack of cigarettes.
Idiot.

He groans before leaning the back of his head against the wall behind us, his thumb rubbing over the plastic of the lighter.

I leave my photographs on my lap before pulling out the cigarette the homeless lady gave me earlier.

I nudge his shoulder and offer it to him.

The paper around the tobacco is kinda wet and soggy due to the event earlier, but he takes it nonetheless.

"Thanks."

I nod and lean my own head against the wall, just staring straight at the wall in front of me in silence as I hear his finger run over the top of the lighter, fire igniting.

The smell as well as the smoke itself invades practically the whole little area around us and I just close my eyes, wanting to deal with this therapist shit already so I can chill with Izzy.

"Want some?"

I open my eyes slightly and turn my head moderately to the left, some hair falling over my eyes in the process.

His hand is grasping the cigarette and is held up as an offering.

I nod a little.

Why not.

He nods back before placing it between my lips and releasing his hold.

I close my eyes again briefly as I feel the smoke releasing from my mouth, handing it back to him.

And that's really what we do for a few minutes before he finally gets called in.

"Tomlinson."

Our eyes both go to the fat brunette man in a suit that's standing across the hall.
Louis sighs.

"If you don't mind, I think I'm gonna need the rest of this." He comments, talking about the cigarette.

I shrug and he chuckles a little, taking another blow.

"Right." He adds before getting up and walking off, the lighter remaining now next to me.

But this time I don't give it back.

Notes