𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 [a rini au]

TWENTY-FIVE

The two teenagers stared at one another, both unsure of what the next move would be. Ricky, who would've never expected to run into a crying Nini during his escape from socialization, didn't know if he should give the girl some space or retreat. Nini, who would've never expected this previously random boy to catch her off guard twice in three weeks, didn't know if she should scurry to sanctuary or invite Ricky to stay. Luckily, Nini was more impulsive than Ricky could ever be.

          The cowering cheerleader grabbed her zip up from her side, draping it around her back and hugging it close to her body. She turned her head again–Ricky still timorous in his tracks–to give him a little wave. "Don't be shy," Nini tried to choke out a laugh, certain that it came out as more of a concerning cough than a cheerful chuckle.

         The Ricky from the first night he met Nini would've morphed into a mannequin, face draining of color and gears halting in his brain. But, as he stood before the crying girl that was urging him to not be a stranger, Ricky took an unprecedented leap of faith and carefully approached her. "Are–are you alright?" he foolishly asked as he stood before her, hovering high above the girl in an unexpected power shift from a few weeks ago.

          Nini tightened her grip around her body, beginning to shiver slightly from the oncoming cold
of the autumn night. Her lips tried to twitch into a small smile, but the girl knew she wasn't fooling anyone. She immediately let her face fall and head hang. "It's, uh," Nini was at a loss for words. She shook her head bashfully. "Nothing. I'm okay."

          "Are you sure?" Ricky probed, first squatting and then sitting on the old roof next to her. His eyes darted between her solemn face and the ground. "I heard you crying, Nini."

          That comment made Nini release a true, powerless laugh. "Yeah, no shit." She glanced over to Ricky, the boy's legs crossed and his thumbs twiddling like there was no tomorrow. She looked from his nervous hands to his red cheeks that screamed embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she apologized, Ricky's eyes shyly meeting hers. "I didn't mean to snap."

          Ricky shrugged, tugging his knees to his chest to match the girl. "I know we don't really know each other," he began, eyes wielded shut like he was about to spill his guts to her, "but I find it to be comforting when I release my bottled up worries, whether it's in writing, art, music. The most relieving, though, is conversation." Ricky found his words amusing, considering he was the king of not conversing his feelings. His dysfunctional family life never allowed him that conversational outlet, which is why he primarily stuck to journaling and songwriting. But, he wanted Nini to have the best advice even he could give, even if he couldn't quite follow it himself.

          "You don't wanna hear about my problems," Nini sighed. "It'll only ruin what you think of me."

          Ricky was puzzled by her statement, and he often was confused with the vagueness of many of their interactions. "What do I think of you?"

          Nini let out a shaky huff, breath almost as unsteady as her mind. "I guess I don't really know," she admitted. "There's just this image of me that outsiders see, and then there's the real me that certain people see. I can only assume you've been a victim of the former."

          "I think that happens to all of us," Ricky resonated, Nini eyeing him intently. "You know, the two sides to ourselves. The cover, and then the pages."

          "Yeah, well I can guarantee you don't want to read my pages," Nini elaborated on the boy's metaphor. "This all just added to the train wreck that they already are."

          Ricky sympathetically gazed into her chocolate eyes. He didn't like how the whites of them were stained scarlet, saturated and swirly veins sucking the beauty from her irises. He wanted her eyes to return back to how they were when they first mesmerized him in AP Literature. That meant things were normal, and that Nini was no longer crestfallen. "Well," Ricky trailed, "lucky for you, I can read and interpret anything."