Simple Gifts
Well, here is a little ditty I cooked up in like three or four days, partially based upon that oddly lucid dream I had about a week ago. Don't laugh, I know it's pretty bad, but I sent it in anyway (partially because there appeared to be no entry fee).
Simple Gifts
The crowd mingles in front of Chloe Warren’s locker during her free period, all of them carrying small trinkets to exchange to one another. It’s Christmas time, a week before break begins. The girl is leaning against the metal grille, next to the boy who has been the focus of her life for quite some time now. The friend that slowly became something more in her eyes.
Chloe’s pretty as pretty goes, with dark brown curls and intelligent green eyes. But she doesn’t think so, not next to Isabel. Isabel is her on again off again best friend, the gorgeous one with delicate supermodel features and a wild mane of auburn hair. There have always been undercurrents of competition between the two girls for boys and attention, no matter how escalated their popularity has been. Because next to Isabel, Chloe feels dumpy and plain, a lowly wannabe painter who can’t even apply makeup to her own face.
The problem really lies with the boy, Dustin. He’s tall, lanky, and sandy-haired, probably the only truly non-conformist guy she knows. But his mother appears to be perfectly normal, seeing as how he is now languorously passing out ordinary striped candy canes with perfectly wrapped red bows on them to all of the surrounding people. She almost ignores him completely, turning away to talk to Isabel as she winds a thick lock of hair around her finger.
But then he taps her shoulder and slips her something small behind her back, away from the prying eyes of the upperclassmen around them. She grasps it in one hand gingerly and brings it out in front of her to put under close scrutiny. It’s another candy cane with an attached chocolate heart in front and a note on the back. With trembling fingers, she pulls the sunny yellow paper open and her heartbeat races at the sight of a thin border of red hearts. His handwriting is neat and tidy for a guy, the message written in a bold black ink: I trust you. Merry Christmas. Keep up the portraits. - Dustin.
A smile appears slowly on her lips at the inside joke, and she remembers his words from Health class a week ago on why he doesn’t particularly care for the opposite sex: he doesn’t trust anything that bleeds for five days and doesn’t die. A South Park quote that she objected strongly to at the time and earned the boy a scolding from the teacher.
Except for her, evidently. She looks up at his expectant countenance and quirks a grin at him, wondering if this is a gesture that actually means more than just face value. A fleeting look of relief passes through his face to be replaced by a reluctant smile that lights up his eyes underneath that thick thatch of hair. Chloe is completely conscious of the fact that everyone is watching through the use of peripheral vision, but she’s never really been one to care. With a quickly murmured word of ‘thanks’, she reaches for him to give him a tight hug, his long arms encircling her petite body.
A faint smile flickers on Dustin’s face as they step away from each other, and then he’s gone, and it’s just like that, the end of their extraordinarily brief encounter. But for some reason, she feels like everything’s changed between them, like this strange imbalance of them being friends has changed almost imperceptibly. Of course, maybe it’s just her.
She looks up into Isabel’s inquisitive eyes and winces internally at that unuttered question. The other girl’s face is carefully blank, yet Chloe has never been good at hiding her emotions from the world. And Chloe is never quite sure if they are friends at the moment or not.
A bell rings somewhere above them, signaling the beginning of their next class. They disperse, each person heading off on their own as the corridors flood with lively chatter. The girl is left with a gift in the hand and a forgotten plastic grocery bag on the floor, which she stares at for a moment before picking up. Dustin’s name is written in black marker, a neat scrawl on the side of the bag. With pursed lips, she shrugs and decides to give it to him next time she sees the boy. Isabel’s still standing next to her, but Chloe avoids her gaze as she opens up her locker and crams her stuff into it, not wanting to discuss what just happened. Because in between the minutiae that makes up high school drama is a deep friendship that slipped into the cracks. Either Isabel will support this possible mutual attraction or be covertly jealous and make snide remarks during moments when no one else is around.
“Chloe? Can we-“
The respective girl ducks her head awkwardly and says in a rushed voice, “Sorry, Izzy, gotta run.” Her backpack swings over her shoulder and she hastens to scurry off to Calculus. Time to think is all that she really needs.
The teacher is droning on and on about graphing calculators, but Chloe isn’t listening as she doodles in the margins of her notebook. Inadvertently, her foot steps on the bag and it crinkles her, reminding her of its presence. With a cautious look at Mr. Harding, she slowly pulls it out from under the desk. The girl sitting next to her pretends not to notice, but her face glows with piqued interest. Chloe tries not to pay attention.
She dips inside and grabs a fistful of something and lays the mysterious items down on her desk for inspection. It’s not like the teacher can see her or anything. To her utter surprise, the bag was seemingly filled with small, powder blue index cards covered in silver inked script. After a moment’s pause, the girl picks up one and reads it silently before going on to the next. Small phrases capture the irresistible boy’s thoughts about everything. Is this a diary of sorts for him? She always knew he was an odd one, but…completely fascinated, she reads further, amazed to find this insight into her crush’s mind. Chloe can identify with him on so many levels. Doesn’t this mean something? And then, then she finds the one card that captures her attention for the rest of the day, the one that could be pertaining to her.
I don’t know if I should ask her out…I talked to Trent last night, who said her life is basically perfect…he would know. Where do I fit in, even as a friend? High school relationships are so stupid.
Her face falls a bit at that, but her breath catches in her throat. There is only one Trent in the entire school, and that would be her best friend, who’s never spoken to Dustin before, as far as she knows. High School is a funny place. There would be hundreds of people going to the same building as you from eight to three, but your world extends to the people in your classes, your sports teams, your clubs, and the distant people from junior high. And worlds usually don’t collide with one another. It’s just now how the social system works. So the idea that hyperactive political activist Trent would talk to the laid back California surfer Dustin is fairly inconceivable to her.
The bell rings again, calculus once again having flown by without her having been edified by the school curriculum. Without much preamble, Chloe scoops everything into the bag and vows to return it to the boy, though her brain is buzzing with just a little delight. It has to be her the card is talking about. Who else was Trent’s best friend?
She sighs in anticipation of Isabel’s reaction. This isn’t something she wants to talk about with Izzy, if only because she does not want to be considered immature. Unlike Isabel, she’s never had a boyfriend or even been kissed, and from the tender viewpoint of a sixteen-year-old, it’s too old not to have completed these “rites of passage.” And then a revelation stops her cold as she walks down the hallway to her locker once more.
Isabel, too, is friends with Trent. Dustin’s words could be about her as well, could they not?
Chloe is jumping to conclusions, and she knows it. But she does believe in fate, after all. And yet…Isabel is the charmer between the two of them, the one who could get any boy she really wanted. All Chloe has are brains, really.
It doesn’t matter. Isabel is leaning against her friend’s locker, arms crossed, a strange look in her eyes. Chloe stops short and says uncertainly, “Hi.” Here it is, the proverbial moment of truth in the microscopic high school universe.
But then the auburn-haired girl does something most unexpected and uncharacteristic of her. She says, with that oddly twisted smile on her face, “Go for it.”
“What?” Chloe says, not sure she has heard right. This is turning out to be such a strange day for her, what with her bad grade in French earlier that she’d never gotten before in her life, and then the whole thing during free period…
Isabel nods slowly and says softly, “He really likes you, you know.” Around them, students are rushing back and forth as the classes release their students for the last time before the weekend begins.
“Dustin?” Chloe asks slowly for confirmation. The other, slimmer girl grins at her old friend and straightens up, giving access to the locker for Chloe. With a stunned look, the painter tucks her calculus book into the narrow space and slams the door shut, digesting the information. He likes her. An actual boy likes her…over Isabel.
That was the crux of the matter. Brains over beauty, and there was a boy who actually saw that…and liked her for who she was. Chloe just looks at Isabel for a long moment and for a moment it is just the two of them in their own eclectic bubble as people swarm loudly around all of them.
As she turns to walk away, Isabel calls out, “Hey, Chloe?” Her bright blue eyes sparkle and shine with delight, even though that warped smile is still on her face.
“Yeah?” A cautious look is on her face as their eyes meet.
Isabel nods as she says, “I approve.” And in that one wordless glance, Chloe understands everything. Isabel was never really jealous. After all, Isabel is Chloe’s best friend. They are the exact same people and react the same way to situations…and for Isabel to say that she approves is one of the hardest things she could ever say.
There was never really any competition between them, was there? Chloe blushes as she realizes that it was all in her head really, just her overanalyzing things…again. Of course.
She’s such a teenager, and she knows it. Yes, she might be ranked first in the class, but she is as clueless about relationships as the next girl. Chloe swallows her own pride and says thickly, “Thanks.”
Both girls smile, cementing their relationship as finality. The wannabe painter spins to leave...right into a tall, thin boy. “Whoa, whoa.”
Chloe looks up right into Dustin’s twinkling brown eyes and smiles easily, knowing exactly what to do, for once in her life. She trusts him, too, which is a revelation in itself, especially for this girl.
Simple Gifts
The crowd mingles in front of Chloe Warren’s locker during her free period, all of them carrying small trinkets to exchange to one another. It’s Christmas time, a week before break begins. The girl is leaning against the metal grille, next to the boy who has been the focus of her life for quite some time now. The friend that slowly became something more in her eyes.
Chloe’s pretty as pretty goes, with dark brown curls and intelligent green eyes. But she doesn’t think so, not next to Isabel. Isabel is her on again off again best friend, the gorgeous one with delicate supermodel features and a wild mane of auburn hair. There have always been undercurrents of competition between the two girls for boys and attention, no matter how escalated their popularity has been. Because next to Isabel, Chloe feels dumpy and plain, a lowly wannabe painter who can’t even apply makeup to her own face.
The problem really lies with the boy, Dustin. He’s tall, lanky, and sandy-haired, probably the only truly non-conformist guy she knows. But his mother appears to be perfectly normal, seeing as how he is now languorously passing out ordinary striped candy canes with perfectly wrapped red bows on them to all of the surrounding people. She almost ignores him completely, turning away to talk to Isabel as she winds a thick lock of hair around her finger.
But then he taps her shoulder and slips her something small behind her back, away from the prying eyes of the upperclassmen around them. She grasps it in one hand gingerly and brings it out in front of her to put under close scrutiny. It’s another candy cane with an attached chocolate heart in front and a note on the back. With trembling fingers, she pulls the sunny yellow paper open and her heartbeat races at the sight of a thin border of red hearts. His handwriting is neat and tidy for a guy, the message written in a bold black ink: I trust you. Merry Christmas. Keep up the portraits. - Dustin.
A smile appears slowly on her lips at the inside joke, and she remembers his words from Health class a week ago on why he doesn’t particularly care for the opposite sex: he doesn’t trust anything that bleeds for five days and doesn’t die. A South Park quote that she objected strongly to at the time and earned the boy a scolding from the teacher.
Except for her, evidently. She looks up at his expectant countenance and quirks a grin at him, wondering if this is a gesture that actually means more than just face value. A fleeting look of relief passes through his face to be replaced by a reluctant smile that lights up his eyes underneath that thick thatch of hair. Chloe is completely conscious of the fact that everyone is watching through the use of peripheral vision, but she’s never really been one to care. With a quickly murmured word of ‘thanks’, she reaches for him to give him a tight hug, his long arms encircling her petite body.
A faint smile flickers on Dustin’s face as they step away from each other, and then he’s gone, and it’s just like that, the end of their extraordinarily brief encounter. But for some reason, she feels like everything’s changed between them, like this strange imbalance of them being friends has changed almost imperceptibly. Of course, maybe it’s just her.
She looks up into Isabel’s inquisitive eyes and winces internally at that unuttered question. The other girl’s face is carefully blank, yet Chloe has never been good at hiding her emotions from the world. And Chloe is never quite sure if they are friends at the moment or not.
A bell rings somewhere above them, signaling the beginning of their next class. They disperse, each person heading off on their own as the corridors flood with lively chatter. The girl is left with a gift in the hand and a forgotten plastic grocery bag on the floor, which she stares at for a moment before picking up. Dustin’s name is written in black marker, a neat scrawl on the side of the bag. With pursed lips, she shrugs and decides to give it to him next time she sees the boy. Isabel’s still standing next to her, but Chloe avoids her gaze as she opens up her locker and crams her stuff into it, not wanting to discuss what just happened. Because in between the minutiae that makes up high school drama is a deep friendship that slipped into the cracks. Either Isabel will support this possible mutual attraction or be covertly jealous and make snide remarks during moments when no one else is around.
“Chloe? Can we-“
The respective girl ducks her head awkwardly and says in a rushed voice, “Sorry, Izzy, gotta run.” Her backpack swings over her shoulder and she hastens to scurry off to Calculus. Time to think is all that she really needs.
The teacher is droning on and on about graphing calculators, but Chloe isn’t listening as she doodles in the margins of her notebook. Inadvertently, her foot steps on the bag and it crinkles her, reminding her of its presence. With a cautious look at Mr. Harding, she slowly pulls it out from under the desk. The girl sitting next to her pretends not to notice, but her face glows with piqued interest. Chloe tries not to pay attention.
She dips inside and grabs a fistful of something and lays the mysterious items down on her desk for inspection. It’s not like the teacher can see her or anything. To her utter surprise, the bag was seemingly filled with small, powder blue index cards covered in silver inked script. After a moment’s pause, the girl picks up one and reads it silently before going on to the next. Small phrases capture the irresistible boy’s thoughts about everything. Is this a diary of sorts for him? She always knew he was an odd one, but…completely fascinated, she reads further, amazed to find this insight into her crush’s mind. Chloe can identify with him on so many levels. Doesn’t this mean something? And then, then she finds the one card that captures her attention for the rest of the day, the one that could be pertaining to her.
I don’t know if I should ask her out…I talked to Trent last night, who said her life is basically perfect…he would know. Where do I fit in, even as a friend? High school relationships are so stupid.
Her face falls a bit at that, but her breath catches in her throat. There is only one Trent in the entire school, and that would be her best friend, who’s never spoken to Dustin before, as far as she knows. High School is a funny place. There would be hundreds of people going to the same building as you from eight to three, but your world extends to the people in your classes, your sports teams, your clubs, and the distant people from junior high. And worlds usually don’t collide with one another. It’s just now how the social system works. So the idea that hyperactive political activist Trent would talk to the laid back California surfer Dustin is fairly inconceivable to her.
The bell rings again, calculus once again having flown by without her having been edified by the school curriculum. Without much preamble, Chloe scoops everything into the bag and vows to return it to the boy, though her brain is buzzing with just a little delight. It has to be her the card is talking about. Who else was Trent’s best friend?
She sighs in anticipation of Isabel’s reaction. This isn’t something she wants to talk about with Izzy, if only because she does not want to be considered immature. Unlike Isabel, she’s never had a boyfriend or even been kissed, and from the tender viewpoint of a sixteen-year-old, it’s too old not to have completed these “rites of passage.” And then a revelation stops her cold as she walks down the hallway to her locker once more.
Isabel, too, is friends with Trent. Dustin’s words could be about her as well, could they not?
Chloe is jumping to conclusions, and she knows it. But she does believe in fate, after all. And yet…Isabel is the charmer between the two of them, the one who could get any boy she really wanted. All Chloe has are brains, really.
It doesn’t matter. Isabel is leaning against her friend’s locker, arms crossed, a strange look in her eyes. Chloe stops short and says uncertainly, “Hi.” Here it is, the proverbial moment of truth in the microscopic high school universe.
But then the auburn-haired girl does something most unexpected and uncharacteristic of her. She says, with that oddly twisted smile on her face, “Go for it.”
“What?” Chloe says, not sure she has heard right. This is turning out to be such a strange day for her, what with her bad grade in French earlier that she’d never gotten before in her life, and then the whole thing during free period…
Isabel nods slowly and says softly, “He really likes you, you know.” Around them, students are rushing back and forth as the classes release their students for the last time before the weekend begins.
“Dustin?” Chloe asks slowly for confirmation. The other, slimmer girl grins at her old friend and straightens up, giving access to the locker for Chloe. With a stunned look, the painter tucks her calculus book into the narrow space and slams the door shut, digesting the information. He likes her. An actual boy likes her…over Isabel.
That was the crux of the matter. Brains over beauty, and there was a boy who actually saw that…and liked her for who she was. Chloe just looks at Isabel for a long moment and for a moment it is just the two of them in their own eclectic bubble as people swarm loudly around all of them.
As she turns to walk away, Isabel calls out, “Hey, Chloe?” Her bright blue eyes sparkle and shine with delight, even though that warped smile is still on her face.
“Yeah?” A cautious look is on her face as their eyes meet.
Isabel nods as she says, “I approve.” And in that one wordless glance, Chloe understands everything. Isabel was never really jealous. After all, Isabel is Chloe’s best friend. They are the exact same people and react the same way to situations…and for Isabel to say that she approves is one of the hardest things she could ever say.
There was never really any competition between them, was there? Chloe blushes as she realizes that it was all in her head really, just her overanalyzing things…again. Of course.
She’s such a teenager, and she knows it. Yes, she might be ranked first in the class, but she is as clueless about relationships as the next girl. Chloe swallows her own pride and says thickly, “Thanks.”
Both girls smile, cementing their relationship as finality. The wannabe painter spins to leave...right into a tall, thin boy. “Whoa, whoa.”
Chloe looks up right into Dustin’s twinkling brown eyes and smiles easily, knowing exactly what to do, for once in her life. She trusts him, too, which is a revelation in itself, especially for this girl.