Leroy's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Leroy wanted one thing: to talk to a stranger long enough to be liked. But his stoic face read as a threat. In the diner, the woman beside him grabbed her coffee and slid three stools down. He hadn't even spoken. He just wanted someone to stay. His older brother Elias watched from across the counter and laughed. Elias charmed people without trying. He winked at the waitress, and she refilled his cup for free. Leroy scowled at his own untouched plate, which only made a man near the door hurry out. "You're doing the murder face again," Elias said. He leaned close. "Nobody sees the guy who cried at a dog movie. They see this." He pointed at Leroy's flat mouth and dark eyes. "I can't change my face," Leroy said. "You don't have to. You have to give them a reason to stay." Elias spun off his stool. "Wait here. Do not glare at anyone." Leroy sat stiff while his brother crossed the diner. In the corner booth, a short woman with red curly hair bent over a sketchbook. She wore a dark cardigan and heavy boots. Silver eyes, tired and sharp. She didn't look up when Elias slid into her booth. Elias talked. The woman answered without smiling. Then Elias pointed back at Leroy, and Leroy did the worst thing. He froze. His face locked hard, the way it always did when he panicked. The woman glanced over. Leroy expected her to look away like the others. Instead she studied him. She flipped her sketchbook shut and walked over, mug in hand. "Your brother says you're scary," she said. She sat down on the stool the coffee woman had left. "He's selling it too hard." Leroy's throat went dry. "I'm not scary." "I know. Scary people don't hold their fork like it might break." She nodded at his hand. He was gripping it like a lifeline. He set it down fast. "Rori," she said. She didn't offer to shake. She just stayed. That was the part that stunned him. She stayed. Nobody stayed. "I drew you," Rori said. She turned the sketchbook halfway. On the page was his face, but soft. The hard jaw, the heavy brows, the Roman nose. Under it she'd written one word: worried. "That's not how people see me," Leroy said. "It's how you actually look." She sipped her coffee. "Most people are lazy. They stop at the first glance." Elias returned, grinning, ready to take credit. Rori didn't look at him. She kept her tired silver eyes on Leroy and asked what the dog movie was. Leroy answered. She stayed for an hour. When she finally left, she tore the sketch from her book and slid it across the counter. "Keep it," she said. "So you remember what you really look like." The obstacle was gone. Someone had stayed. But now Leroy knew her name, held her drawing, and had no idea how to see her again.