His Reckless Heart

Chapter 2

Rebecca's POV

It's been three months since I first met Jake on that cold, freezing night, and we have become very good friends.

He is staying with a few of his friends and works at a nearby factory. His job is not a regular one and his income is very meager, but at least he manages to get by with it.

We see each other every other night, and I must admit that seeing him makes my day almost complete; he is nice and friendly, and he always encourages me.

He doesn't know who his real parents are, as he was dropped off at an orphanage at a very young age. He too got tired of being thrown around homes and decided to start living on the street, but a few of his friends from the orphanage offered him a place to live with them.

He pays a portion of the rent and assists with housework to supplement the other portion of his income that he cannot afford.

He loves drawing and painting, and he believes that one day he will become a great artist, and I don't have any reason to doubt this, because he is very talented.

"How old are you?" I asked Jake, who seemed taken aback by my question.

We were seated on a public chair close to my spot, eating biscuits and talking on a very cold evening. It was getting late and we had been sitting out here for so long.

That is how we mostly spend our evenings, talking and sharing each other's daily experiences and finding comfort in them.

“I'm nineteen,” he said with a smile. He has the most beautiful smile I have ever seen.

"Oh, you are three years older than me," I said with sudden realization.

“Technically, two years, since you will be seventeen in a few days," he said.

"Yeah," I said sadly.

Unable to shake off the fact that I am seventeen and homeless; most girls my age will be celebrating their sweet sixteenth birthdays, attending proms, or going to college, but here I was begging for food to survive each passing pass.

Life can be so unfair and tough that one has to question the very reason for the existence of one's life. Like, why was I born if God knew my mother was going to die, leaving me with no one to love or care for me?

My father, who is supposed to love and protect me, does not want anything to do with me.

I see him sometimes walking with my siblings or my stepmother. I most often hide from being called out or being embarrassed by him.

“Are you alright?” Jake asked after noticing my sudden mood change. His facial expression shows that he is concerned about me.

I didn't want to end this day recounting stories of how messed up my life was.

Not that he would mind; he would gladly and patiently listen to all I have to say. He is never in a rush, and that is why I have come to be so fond of him. He listens when I talk and provides comfort when I am down.

But tonight, I just felt talking about my sorrows would further make me sad and that my sadness might rub off on him too.

“I'm fine,” I said with a sigh.

“Liar," he said, whispering the words in a teasing manner close to my ears. The heat from his breath sent electrifying waves to my entire body.

I looked at him, not knowing if to deny his allegations or just accept them. I smiled shyly while taking my face away from him to hide the heat that rushed to my cheeks.

He too sensed my countenance and tried to avoid dwelling on the topic.

“What's this?" he asked curiously, as I saw him staring at a part of my body.

I turned to look at what he was asking of me, only to follow his gaze to the birthmark on my shoulder.

I instinctively quickly covered my shoulder with my jacket, suddenly feeling very embarrassed.

shit! he has seen my birthmark.

My birthmark is like nothing I have ever seen. It's so black and ugly that children used to make fun of me back then at the orphanage.

My dad would hit me and throw profanities at me whenever he saw it. I also noticed my other two older siblings didn't have the birthmark and they were his favorites.

I feel the mark is a sign of bad luck, which makes me cover it all the time.

“It's my birthmark,” I said slowly, hoping for my love's sake that he wouldn't reject me too because of it. Everyone who has seen me with it has rejected me.

“It's beautiful,” he said, which made me look up to see if he meant it or was just saying it out of pity. But as soon as our eyes met, they held on to each other.

It suddenly felt as if there was no air between us, or maybe it was just because I had unconsciously been holding my breath the entire time as I found myself lost in his beautiful eyes.

He too couldn't take his eyes off me, and as if on cue, we both looked away awkwardly while trying to replace lost oxygen.

"I...hmm... I should be...hmm... going home now, and I'll see you tomorrow," he stammered as he stood up while running his fingers through his messy hair.

“Ok, good night Jake,” I said quietly, while, in the deepest of my heart, I was screaming.

Please, don't go.

But it is what it is. He is so much fun to be with, and time passes so easily when he is around. I most times forget who I am when I am with him.

"Good night, Rebecca," he said, and before I could register what happened next, he placed a soft kiss on my cheeks as quickly as a speed boat, and before I could react, he hurried away.

A joyful bell rang loudly in my head as a beautiful smile made its way to my face.

I just received my first kiss, and even though it was short and unexpected, it was heartfelt. I smiled as I watched him fade into the night, and somehow I felt different, a good different.

****

Rebecca's POV

I woke up early, as usual, the next morning so I could make it to the public restroom in time. Luckily, I was the first person there, so I quickly went in to have myself cleaned up, and when I was done with my business, I came out looking refreshed and boosted with a lot of inner happiness.

it's my seventeen years birthday and I have carefully picked out a dress for the day, it is an old chiffon dress that I have always had with me for years.

even though the material has become very weak, I like how it looks on me whenever I put it on.

Today is going to be a great day, I said to myself as I made my way down to my stand.

I couldn't get rid of the silly grin that had been plastered across my face since last night, and just thinking about the kiss made me blush all over again.

Just then, a beautiful red car was parked right in front of me. I saw that the car was brand new, and I had a surge of hope that the person might be generous enough to give me something.

I moved closer with a smile on my face and waved my hands at the car owner, who happened to be a middle-aged woman while putting up my placard, which says.

Please help me. I'm hungry and homeless.

I didn't know know what happened or how my foot slipped, but the next thing I knew I almost fell down but quickly supported myself with the car.

The next thing I knew was that this lady came down and gave me a dirty slap across my face.

“How dare you touch my car? Do you know how much it is worth? I am going to ensure you rot in prison for harassing me.” She kept ranting, throwing all sorts of profanities at me.

I pleaded as I tried to pick up my placard which had fallen from my hand, but she kicked me hard in my stomach, which made me fall to the ground.

“I'm so sorry,” I kept saying, just so she could go away as I couldn't afford to be found out by the police.

I stood up and was about to walk away when she pulled me by my dress and the already weak chiffon top came apart. There were so many onlookers, but none made an effort to interfere, as they were busy snapping pictures of what was going on with their phones while laughing and giggling among themselves.

I tried to cover my exposed body, but the material had been badly ruined. She looked at me and saw that she could not do worse than she already had, so she walked back to her car and zoomed off.

I tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to come out of my watering eyes.

There were so many camera flashes on my face and body while I tried to get away to look for someplace safe to change my shirt.

I finally spotted a waste bin tank and hid behind it, and quickly changed my clothes. I came out of the place I was squatting to see an elderly man staring at me.

“Is that a tattoo?” He asked, pointing his finger to my shoulder.

I immediately knew what he was talking about, my birthmark. Now everyone knows that I have an ugly scar and it should be all over social media before the day runs out.

How messed up can my pathetic life get?

Thank goodness I don't have a phone.

I was about to walk away from the old man when he stopped me.

“I ask you, young lady, where did you get that mark?”

“It's a birthmark. Are you happy now? Please just let me be.” I said, sobbing, not able to contain my emotions anymore.

“Are you sure?” He asked while wearing a surprised look.

I looked at the old man and wondered if he was mentally stable.

The truth is, I was not finding any of his questions funny as I felt miserable and pained from all the embarrassment I had earlier encountered.

I pulled down my shirt for him to see out of annoyance.

"Here it is, sir. It's a f*****g birthmark and I despise it; I'll gladly give it to you if you want it," I grumbled.

“I'm so sorry to bother my lady, but I happen to come from London, and this mark of yours is a mark that is mostly associated with the royal family. I think if that mark is real, that you may be a princess,” he said, looking surprised at his own words.

Subconsciously, I began to laugh, because it's funny how you can feel like you're the most unfortunate person on the planet, only to meet someone you're better than, and clearly, this old man here is mentally unstable.

“So you think that by having this ugly mark, I might be a princess, right?” I asked amid heavy laughter.

“Yes, anything is possible,” the man said, all serious.

"I'm so sorry sir, but it seems you have watched too many Cinderella films and now you see everything as a fairytale. So sorry to disappoint you, but I am the furthest thing away from being a princess, "I said, laughing my ass off as I walked away to look for a new spot that would be my new home.