for "mini_nanowrimo" hence no friends lock 24
18400 ♥ 21000 (87.62%)
So I did my cleaning job today and then ran some errands. I came home and cleaned and cooked and watched a movie and said "Hmm. What am I forgetting?"
To Write! I am dumb. So the short story is something that I have had an outline of for a long time. Like grade 11 long time ago. I had to dig out a notebook to see if i had ever actually named the characters in the character outline I made for the boy and girl (I did not) but I found a love letter to Cole, a boy I (and all the boys and girls in this city) was in lust with. Oh my gosh. So fucking hilarious. It's too bad even for my love letter liking. So I wrote a new sarcastic love poem all about being in grade 11 and in lust with Cole. Laughing forever.
and yes, I stole the title from Hard Core Logo. Shut up.
And in the end it's love
She glances up, wet snowflakes cling to her long eyelashes and watches as they pile out of the beat up van, trying hard not to look stoned. She can smell them from where she sits.
“I know, I know. I promised,” he says loudly as he sits down on the wooden park bench beside her.
“You scare me when you're like this. I don't like it. You know that I don't like it.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“You act like my father, like your step-dad.”
“Oh, fuck off!” He stands then, kicking the bench leg, twisting so his back is to her. She stands trying not to look over he shoulder to see if or what the others see. She shouldn't but she feels embarrassed. She shouldn't but she apologies to him.
“I'm sorry baby. That was out of line.” He sighs, like he knows it's wrong for her to be sorry but nods in acceptance. He doesn't like himself very much anymore.
“We're going to Binkles,” he says, sucking in a deep breath like he can't get enough air. He is shivering too, even though he is wearing his leather coat and it's not cold in the snow. “You could come with us? We could spend some time. . .” He trails off, doesn't even bother to finish the sentence.
“Hang out with more stoners and junkies? Gee, yes please!” she answers sarcastically., hands gesturing wildly. She doesn't want to be that girl. She doesn't want to act like this. “Would you even consider staying with me tonight, if I asked?”
“No.” Without hesitation. He answers her without hesitation. He turns back van and motions to his friends that he'll be just one more minute. She can see that they are getting jumpy and restless. They're starting to get louder, talking and singing and cussing over each other. She's worried about the dark houses around them. She hopes that no one wakes up or calls the cops because of the noise. They shouldn't even be in the park this late at night.
“I know you don't care but I don't want you to go,” she says, putting her hands on his face. He can't or won't look at her. Her manicured nails dig into his skin lightly but make their point clear.
“I love you.”
“No,” she answers, letting go and turning away from him in disgust and anger.
“No? No what?” He is hurt and confused. He stands behind her but doesn't touch.
“No, I'm not giving you any more money.”
“Oh. Oh.” They stand in an awkward silence for a moment. “I didn't mean it like that, this time. I do. I love you.” He actually mean those words but it's not enough anymore. He reaches out to her and she hates herself but turns to look at him and takes a faltering step forward into his arms. He wraps lean arms around her and she lays her head on his shoulder. She can feel his collar bone dig into the side of her face. They don't fit together anymore. He's changed too much. Or she has changed very much and him not at all. He tells her that he's sorry, like he can read her mind, then walks away from her and back to the van. She watches everyone pile back in the way they came out. She sits down heavily on the bench and does nothing until she sees the back lights of the car round the corner. She starts to cry heavy sobs into her hands. It's over now.
Cole - Flashback to Grade 11
Cole, beautiful and dangerous Cole. Cole who reminds me of cloves, eyeliner and airbrushing. Lovely Cole, who is never wrong and calls me Angela. Cole, whose favourite games are in the mind. Cole, surreal and ghostly, sharp and witty. Cole who makes me into a mouse just because he is there. I am fire. I am on fire. Cole, who is adored by all and who will never know it. Cole, who we love.