The Poor Girl And The Rich Boy

Figure Of You

After sitting in traffic for about an hour the bus, once again, jolts to a stop and I get off. I carry the toaster that's to big for my hands down the road and to my flat door.

I see a figure wearing a black, long coat near the door. Usually this is bad news so I'd try to wait him out but I've had a crappy day so it's time to suck up some courage. I walk to my door with nothing stopping me, well maybe my shoelace, as I trip over it. Well done. I go flying, dropping the toaster too. My hands drop into a huge puddle that splashes back into my face.

The figure walks over and I hear him pick up the box. "Listen street tough, that's mine-" I begin before looking up. The street light shines on his face. It's Trevor. "Trevor? What are you doing here?" I ask, standing up and taking the box back "I was picking you up for our date," Trevor replies "I told you, this would never work and tonight is a perfect example why. I'm over an hour late because I was working, my work has to come first," I explain to him
"I knew you'd be working, that's why I waited," he says softly. I see a bouquet of roses in his hand, my eyes jot down at them but then I bring them up to his face, where our eyes meet and we both stand silently.

"I got you these," he finally says and puts them on top of the box and walks past me. Great. Now I feel bad. "Trevor wait!" I blurt out, I think he turns to me but I can barely see past the box and flowers "There's a lot of traffic tonight because of the rain. You'd be queuing for hours, you should come inside for a bit and dry of first," I suggest
"Don't worry about it, I've got patience, I'm good at waiting," he says, clearly talking about us again "Just come inside. You can stay the night," I sigh, he looks at me with hopeful eyes thinking this means we have a chance "On the couch," I add. Trevor walks over to me and takes the box out my hand and passes me the flowers.

I open the door but before he can come in I step in his way. "We are just friends though. Nothing more," I state and let him in. We march up the many sets of stairs until we reach my floor. I open the door again and hold it for him as he carries the box inside.

"Where do you want this?" He asks
"Next to the sink, on the counter!" I answer from the hall. I shut the door and join him in the kitchen.

I see the toaster box in the sink. "Why is my toaster in the sink?" I ask
"You said in the sink," he answers
"No I said next to the sink. Why would I want my toaster in the sink?" I correct "To wash it or something,"
"You don't wash a toaster in a sink! You've never cleaned anything have you?" I question
"Yes." Trevor lies
"What?"
"When I was six I dropped my toy dinosaur in some mud and I didn't want my mum to know so I washed it in the sink," he answers
"Just you?" I ask
"Maybe one of the maids took over but I would of done it without her,"
"Yeah right! I bet you begged her to help. 'I can't clean please help me Mary the maid'" I mock
"Hey! How'd you know her name was Mary?" Trevor jokes.

I unpack the toaster from its box, luckily no damage done by the rain or fall. I plug it in with the switch off and it's like there was never a toaster missing.