Fearless

September 7th, 2012

The air was cold, colliding with Rosie's hot breath with every intake of oxygen. She glanced at the sun as it was falling asleep, leaving a murky sky in its place. Autumn was coming quickly in her small town, freezing dirt and frosting the yellowing grass. She missed the summer breezes but marvelled in the colours of fall. It seemed to be the only thing in her life that she expected to change.

She trudged up the dirt road next to a slowing ravine, following the path she made nearly ten minutes prior. The only difference was that she was now with her mildly high childhood friend, staring at her bare red legs and mud ridden shoes.

He walked next to her in silence after she explained her day and her conversation with his boss so effortlessly. She casually brought up her trip to the city, neglecting details. He offered to carry her bag, out of guilt for her venture to find him, but he was met with a glare and a huff of dissatisfaction as she held her bag closer to her body.

She was disappointed, knowing that she went through all that work to start out fresh with him for her to catch a small joint between his fingers and smoke escaping his lips near their childhood spot overlooking the city. Rosie was told by his mother that Louis had been improving, cutting down on drinking all together. She should've known that it was replaced by something else.

She couldn't look at him, staring at the frozen ground in disgruntled annoyance. She could tell that he was ashamed, having not known the lengths she went for him and their friendship beforehand. However, with every footstep, she found herself more annoyed at the fact that she thought everything was going well - the sheer ignorance that he was working on himself and that this was going to be easy.

"I'm sorry," Louis muttered as they reached the fence to the town, "I just didn't think you would go to Simon of all people."

"I sure as fuck wasn't going to go to Lisa," Rosie responded dryly, recalling his warning about her.

Louis shuffled his shoulders uncomfortably, trying to find an honest reply. "I didn't think it would be this fast," Louis defended, "I didn't have time- I didn't think you would-"

"Yeah, well," Rosie interrupted, "you didn't think at all, did you?"

"I just-" Louis attempted to start again, "I'm just speechless that's all."

She didn't respond, further digging her hands into the pockets of her jacket. She was apprehensive about her plans for the night, not knowing how to cope with herself let alone a man with no change of attitude. He paused for a moment, not understanding how she could've possibly persuaded someone like Simon.

"I just can't believe that you-"

"It's a bit redundant," Rosie stopped him in his tracks. She halted at the edge of town, the border only divided by a small, short fence. Hopping over it gracefully, despite her black mini dress, the short girl observed him, attempting to hide her scowl.

"What is?" Louis furrowed his eyebrows, placing his hands on the fence.

"Saying you were speechless," she inspecting him as he hopped over, "but here you are, still fucking speaking."

Louis paused and closed his mouth, exhaling loudly through his nose. She could tell that he didn't really know what to do with himself after she shut him up. He didn't look at her as he walked forward, not waiting for her to follow. The tall boy shook his head softly, muttering things to himself as she let him walk in front of her, not competing with his long strides.

He ignored her as paraded through the street, ignoring glances and murmurs from people nearby. Rosie allowed him to be upset at her actions, not caring about how harsh she was or explaining her anger.

Rosie wanted to show him that his actions has consequences. She wasn't going to be easy on him and coerce him into wanting to get better. She wanted him to do it for himself, not for her. Everything he had said previously wrapped around her, using her as an excuse to develop better habits making her feel obligated to help him.

The pair walked into town, strangely crowded for the time of day. She sighed, silently giving him a ultimatum as she tried to keep up with him through the people. She told herself that if he turns left, she would go through with her list that she fought so hard for and if he turns right, Rosie would stop trying despite her meeting with a major music mogul and a promise to her own mother. She told him what direction to go in when she found him, she just didn't know if he was going to take this event too seriously.

They came to a fork in the road forcing Rosie to stop two feet behind the boy. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder, his face neutral. They locked eyes, tearing at each other's unyielding stances with their own hubris. Rosie raised her eyebrow, challenging his decision. Louis rolled his eyes and looked forward. He shook his head and turned left.

A smile crept on Rosie's plumped lips as she caught up to him, walking next to him. When he glanced down at her, she changed her demeanour, placing an agitated facade on to show that at she was still annoyed and disappointed in what he did.

They walked in silence for a few blocks before Louis sighed, asking her what she was going to make him do.

"We're starting the list."

"I know that," Louis grunted, clearly annoyed at the lack of description "which task?"

She ignored his question, finding solace in the power she held in his ignorance. She changed the topic, deciding to explain, in detail, her travels to Simon's office, rather listening to her own voice until they reaching destination.

"What are we doing here?" Louis leered at the sign above him.

Rosie locked eyes with the feeble boy with a devilish smirk, "We're beginning task one."

oOo

Glass shattered. Again.

"I swear to God, Louis," Rosie seethed, "drop one more fucking glass."

She watched him snicker at her comment, not making eye contact with him. He'd been doing it for an hour, forcibly defying her in order to get her attention. He talked back to the staff members, nearly tripped one and distracted the customers outside by aimlessly wandering in between tables. She stuck him with the most basic job: dishes.

"Sorry," Louis shrugged, "it's a hard job."

Rosie stared at him, attempting to keep her composure. She was sure that he was capable of kitchen duty as his task, but he was proving her otherwise. It was her busiest day, Friday, she didn't have time for his idiocy.

"Maybe," he started with a mischievous smile, placing a plate from the pile into the sink, "if you let me out in there, I can do better."

Rosie rolled her eyes, "I think the fuck not." She turned to her coworker and apologized, telling him that Louis would be out of his hair as soon as the rush was over.

Louis wiped his soapy hands on his apron. "I was under the impression that I was going to be working with you."

He watched her walk passed him with her chin in the air, smiling at the chef and cooking staff. She took her tables' orders and hung them up on the narrow cork board that lined the rim of the window. A staff member called out a number and smiled at her, telling her it was done.

"You thought wrong." Rosie picked up her table's plates in both hands.

"I can help you with that," Louis called, attempting to take the carefully balanced plates from her.

She skillfully dodged his wet hands. "Louis, I swear to God." Rosie stared at him until he dropped his hands with a sigh.

He watched as she walked through the double doors out of the kitchen, "You gotta stop cursing at God!" Louis yelled at her, noticing that she completely ignored him. "He'll get, um," he finished quietly, "mad."

Louis sighed, looking at the mountain of dishes he had to do. He felt like a child again; being told to do chores he didn't want to do for no real reward in the end.

When Rosie threw a black uniform at him when they arrived at the diner, he thought it was going to be easy. Talking to people had always been progressively rewarding for him, serving couldn't have been any harder. She, however, had never given him a chance to do what she did: be a waiter. Rosie had guided him straight to the kitchen to clean everything. He was annoyed. He wanted acknowledgement for his attempts to change. He was trying. He wasn't used to not getting exactly what he wanted when he wanted it.

"Get back to work!" The staff member watching him shouted, startling him.

He glowered over in his direction, "Shut up," Louis hissed, before turning back to the sink.
He titled his head and picked up a plate, dropping it purposefully in the sink just to watch the shards of the ceramic fly in different directions. It was fascinating to him, seeing something built to be so strong break so easily. It broke unevenly and painfully, in big pieces and in flakes. It was made to be sustainable, but with a bit of pressure, it cracked and then it broke.

He picked up another, looking past the excess food and grime. It was spotless behind the dirt; not a single scratch or chip in its entirety. He wondered how many times it's been used; covered in different types of meals and liquids. It looked so strong, so stable in hindsight. So he dropped it.

"Louis," Rosie whispered, staring at him. He hadn't noticed her walk in. He looked over his shoulder, eyeing her. "Please just -- just go home."

"Okay."

Notes