A short story
Something's Got To Give
A story by Chuck Davison
Last time I checked, I was content. I can't say that life hasn't provided for me. I have all the Dean Koontz books a person could want, an internet connection, plenty of food, and the sweet deliciousness of orange juice. I stay in most of the time, and work in a dark lit coffee shop on graveyard shifts. Somehow, I get through those hours, while taking a couple classes at the nearest community college. It's been like this for almost 3 months, since 'it' happened. Since then, I've given up on relationships; family and romantic alike. No one should pity me.
My friends, they used to call me anti-social. I read too much. I didn't get out enough. Stephanie, a close friend of 8 years, was always the best of what a friend could be. The others, they would grab my sleeve, and pull it back to see my wrists. They were always looking for something. But Stephanie, she knew how to deal with me; always managing to make me smile. Stephanie, she'd always have that lame smirk that she reserved only for me.
"Ben," she'd say, "let's go for a drive,"
Stephanie and I always set aside drives for each other. No matter what time, or what obligations we had. She thought it would help me deal with things. I only wanted to be with her. Since we were only 12 or 13 years old, we've lived within an eyeshot of one another. Before it happened, our parents were as good of friends as we were. Almost every night, my or her family would be eating out together at our favorite restaurant, the long standing "Guinevere Seafood". We often referred to ourselves as "lucky", since most of the parents of our friends were divorced.
So there we were, taking a drive. We usually take my Miata, since the weather is beautiful in Orlando. I never can tell how long she'll want to be doing this. I often thought that she just wanted to keep things changing for me. It wasn't long until I had realized that I hardly ever did know what she would decide to do. Except for school and our drives, she was more spontaneous than anyone I had ever known.
"We should study for our exams this weekend, Ben. Mr. Brown's tests aren't easy."
"Sure, why not."
"Good, we'll go right after school this Friday."
Since it happened, I'd been living with her and her parents. It's not that I couldn't afford to live on my own; actually, I could do so easily with the inheritance I received. I lived there because Stephanie and her parents wanted me to.
It was a chilly day that Friday. Stephanie, knows how much I like the top down, so she always forces me to put it down even when she was cold. We made sure that we got in the same classes together, so we could share the car ride. That day, she seemed anxious to get classes over with. As always, I couldn't predict what she was thinking. She recently had mastered the basics of driving a manual, so she wanted some practice on the way to our study spot. 2nd gear had always given her problems, but today she drove the Miata like it was a natural gift. We arrived safe, and hit the books. As strange as it sounds, she seemed to be glowing with confidence, yet I could see the nervous fingernail biting that defines her as much as her spontaneous ness.
"Ben, I've been thinking lately,"
"Yeah? What about?"
"We've been friends a long time..it's been 8 years since we met hasn't it?"
"Around there. What are you getting at?"
Leaning closer, Stephanie continued, "I don't want to 'just be friends' anymore" and ended it with a kiss.
Occasionally, I have nightmares of that day. In my mind were the memories of how my father used to teach me how to work on cars, and how my mother used to hold me at night, knowing me all too well, and going on for what seemed forever about how my grandparents would've been so proud of me. Then, a flashback to the phone ringing. Deafening. Those words, "Mr. Sutton? My name is Agent Stone, I must regretfully inform you…your parents who were aboard Flight 285...", the phone landed on the hardwood floor of my old kitchen, still putting out meaningless static, "extreme winds…passenger wing…Mr. Sutton…Mr..". My only regret in life was looking at their corpses.
More than once, I've awaken with Stephanie, and her parents next to me, telling me what they think I want to hear. "It's alright, you're safe," and "Don't worry honey, that is over." would always echo in my head. God forbid they pity me. It's been nearly 3 months and I still expect to see them on my old porch as I head to my "new" home with Stephanie and her parents.
Since that Friday, I've never thought I'd have this feeling when I see her. I realized that life isn't worth dwelling on the negative parts, although you should never forget them. I realized that although the world may be falling down all around me, there is always something in life that is worth waking up to. There is a Stephanie for everyone.
( not included ) P.S. I'm not crazy or suicidal
This is also in my myspace blog if any of you fine people would like to leave a comment or kudos, haha!