PART 1 - aT the Lane In Alice Springs

Surname: Clarke
Name: Niall
Date of Birth: 02/08/1983
Star Sign: Lion
Distinguishing mark: Red-hair (or orange fluo, like really the redest hairs that you've ever seen), a funny farmer walk and the most beautiful green eyes ever see all around the world.

I was in Alice Springs. I remember the first day I saw him, it was on my first time in this town. My Trip Team just left me to others ways all around Australia and I've decided to drink something even alone at the only pub open in this place : The Bo'Jungles. To be honest, I remember 2 guys. One with a really good looking, a model face, dark hair, deep eyes, tall and very attractive, but he didn't even look at me once so I was bored. The other one was actually a head with funny hair, orange like the acid fruit, drinking between all these strangers men. I tried to attract him's attention but he was far away from the desk and, I guessed, completly stone. There you are, I introduce you Niall Clarke.

I used to work in differents places in Alice Springs but at this time I was especially waitress in the Déli Food at the Lane on Todd Mall. I've just started when I payed attention again to this strange man with red-hair. Around 4pm, he used to come over and order a long black with milk on the side, sitting at the table 8 on the left from the desk. One time, he tried to speak with me but I was really bad in English, I couldn't understand very well and my trainer, Gary, was an asshole who spent his time to speak about me in a bad way to the customers thinking I couldn't understand nothing so I had a bunker mentality everyday, and the cook of the restaurant, Tony (a lovely guy finally) who shooted on me all the time made me nervous. I guess now, Niall asked me something like "how is it going?" and I replied without even listen to him "Yes" conviced that I won't understand anyway. No sense. He was probably surprised but he maybe realised I was French.

I have to confess before the rest of the story something important. I was flirting everytime. I was alone in the middle of the desert far away from my family and my country because I wanted to take a big break in my life, forget many things, do whatever I wanted, and try to find myself. I didn't care about nothing to be sincere. At the moment Niall could be someone else and it'll be the same. I can't deny Niall was attractive but I was not really "serious", I was just a girl alone flirting, dancing, drinking, working and sleeping in the middle of nowhere without know anyone..with a bike and a lot of crazy dresses.

BUT, day after day, I started to have a look at the time every 10min to check if it was 4pm. I asked to Gary who seemed to know Niall, if he was a good friend of him. "Why? Are you interested?" I turned red for the first time for a long time. I realised, replying "Of course not" that I completly was. In the same way, Niall told me after that he also did it, asking to Gary if I was single. But this fuckin' asshole let us without do nothing about that. He replied to Niall that I was stupid, and he told me the same about Niall. We lost one week maybe more.

Until this day: Niall was sitting with some friends, still at the table 8. He ordered 2 longs black with milk on the side running. I was barista now and alone in the Déli this day (excepted Tony in the kitchen who always kept an eye on me)... I found every 2min an excuse to clean the tables outside to have a quick look and I finally cut the light in his beautiful eyes out...I don't know why, I wrote, without even realise what I was doing, my number phone on a piece of these yellow papers that we used to use to take the orders. Well, his friends had disappeared, he was suddenly alone on his table. I put down the paper close to his second cup and I walked away completly embarrassed.

The fact is, when I had a quick look again, maybe two minuts after, he had disappeared as well.

And the worst is, it was on Sunday, I didn't hear from him on the evening, not on Monday too, on Tuesday either. I spent these days to brood over my revanche, telling to everyone he was an asshole and I'll spit on his fucking long black with milk on the side, dressing with great care, hoping to cross his road. I wanted to be beautiful to show him I was a kind of gorgeous girl, he had my number but he missed me.. or something like that.. But he didn't come at the Lane, these three next days. Maybe something was wrong, maybe I wrote a wrong number, maybe he lost the paper, maybe something happened to him...People are usely enough honest to say or text straigh away "thanks for you phone but I won't really use it, I'm engaged"? Maybe he completly didn't care. But I remember his look when I was cleaning a table and I couldn't believe that.

Comments

[K]

"I don't why"
il doit manquer un mot.
Je suis content j'ai tout compris.
C'est marrant ton histoire, ca m'arrive tout le temps.
Peut être qu'on se fait des films et que ces regards intéressé ne sont finalement que de la curiosité. T'as une tête bizarre toi aussi ?