He and She: A Contemporary Fairy Tale

[furandfeathers]

This is something that I've been working on for awhile, and I decided I needed feedback from people who don't know the characters. That is, the real life people that inspired these characters. I'm putting the vignettes in chronological order from the beginning of the story, not from when I started writing them (which really, only Sprinkles would know the difference) but just to clarify.


Rating: 11+ because before that, kids are still squeamish about kissing...

Vignette 1: The Beginning

I’ve been watching these two dance around each other for far too long. She’s my best friend, and I love her dearly, but sometimes she is so oblivious. Take for example, the fact that this boy has been completely in love with her since freshmen year. He’s cute, I guess, in the sci-fi nerd kind of way. He has thick dark brown hair, and a shy smile that makes you want to smile too. He certainly isn’t ugly, and he’s very sweet. I’m currently watching the pair through the math room window; extra help for me again, and she is waiting for me outside.

I see him approaching slowly. He looks really nervous, and I can practically see his hands shaking from here as he asks if he can sit. She nods and quickly slides over on the bench, depositing her bad in a heap at her feet. They exchange a few words, probably talking about the weather, and I tap my fingers impatiently on the windowsill. Finally he looks at his hands, then shyly back at her. His eyes drop immediately after he finishes speaking, obviously expecting rejection. He isn’t prepared to hear her accept with only slight hesitation, and he gaze snaps up to look her directly in the eye, a smile forming on his lips.

My friend smiles brightly as they stand to go. He holds his bag in one hand, and reaches for hers, offering to carry it as well. She refuses, and they set off down the sidewalk, the afternoon sun glinting off her blonde hair. She has completely forgotten me, but I don’t mind. The math teacher has yet to arrive, and going to the door, I make sure the coast is clear before sprinting down the hall.

I follow at a safe distance, feeling a bit like 007. They are not particularly fascinating, but if anything happens I want to be the first to know. They walk side by side, close but not too close. He seems to have gotten over his shyness and they keep the conversation flowing the entire walk. I see him occasionally sneaking glances at her, as if some part of him doesn’t believe she’s really there.

Finally they come to a stop outside the ice cream shop. A few students stop to stare at them, but most faces show relief that he has at last stopped pining after her and just asked her out. She is completely oblivious to the attention, ordering what I’m sure is her customary rocky road in a dish while still giggling at something he said. He is aware of the stares, I can see his eyes shift apprehensively, and he doesn’t see the girl try to hand him his cone. My friend calls his attention back as she takes the ice cream from the girl and passes it on to him. As she does their hands touch briefly, and all doubts and fears leave his face as he returns her bright smile.

After he pays, they turn to go in the direction of her house. This time, she allows him to sling her bag over his shoulder as well, since she needs both hands to eat her ice cream. I follow stealthily, trying not to wear my ice cream. They talk and laugh the whole way to her house and when they reach her door, he hands her back her bag, which she sets on the porch at their feet. His lips move, forming a question, and she nods enthusiastically in response. She thanks him, giving him a quick hug that practically makes him die of happiness, before going inside the house. I wait for him to float off down the sidewalk before I go barging in demanding details, although I’m certain he wouldn’t have noticed me if I smeared the rest of my ice cream on his crisp, button down shirt.

[furandfeathers]

special thanks to OSUSprinks for letting me toy with her MMAD story for this one

Vignette 2: Ferris Wheel Fears



In less than two weeks, I have slipped into the role of the third wheel. Since their first “date” when they went for ice cream, they have been nearly everywhere together. They’ve gone to dinner, the movies; he even tried to teach her to bowl. I tried once too, and she is hopeless, to put it kindly. They are very considerate though, and they invite me everywhere with them, so I can’t fault him for taking away my best friend. They’ve tried to set me up a few times with his friends but I discouraged that. We all get along, and have formed a lovely group, but I couldn’t be tied down like that. My friend can, and she has never been happier.

Tonight, we are on our way to the fair that’s in town for the week. The three of us are squeezed into the pick up truck his father let him borrow; she pressed against him in the middle, and me clinging to the door as he goes careening around corners. I wonder how he ever got his license. By some miracle we make it to the fairgrounds in one piece, and he even parks it without hitting anyone. He gives her a hand down out of the truck, then doesn’t let go, lacing his fingers through hers as we walk toward the gate.

We can hear the carnies long before we can see them, yelling above the crowd, trying to hassle people into playing their game. When we reach them, one of them seems to take a great interest in my friend, hovering around us, trying to get her attention. She doesn’t seem affected by his presence, but he is, and I can see his grip on her hand tighten as he shoots a glare at the offensive intruder. This man is not one to give up easily, however, even going so far as to grab her free hand, and try to tug her away. In an instant her boyfriend has whipped around, a single step bringing him between them, where he angrily tells off the strange man, with no trace of the shy, mild exterior he usually portrays. The carnie scurries off, and my friend holds his arm with both hers, keeping him as close as possible as we continue our walk to the rides.

I spot the scrambler right away and make a mental note to drag them on that with me before the night is over, as she already herding us in the direction of the Ferris wheel. I flat out refuse to on it with her, like I do every year. She turns her pleading gaze on him, and I see a fleeting look if discomfort flicker across his face before he gives in and agrees to go with her. I watch from a few feet away as they settle into their small, rickety car, and he shoots a suspicious glance at the attendant that helps buckle them safely inside. He grips the rail with both hands, his eyes staring straight ahead.

He shifts nervously in his seat as the wheel slowly begins to turn. About halfway up, he sneaks a glance down, and I can see his face pale in fear. She notices his discomfort too, and her eyes express concern, as she gently pries his hand off the bar, holding it between both hers. The wheel continues turning until it reaches the top, where it comes to a screeching halt, leaving their car rocking back and forth while more passengers climb aboard.

His face reflects sheer panic at this point, and her soothing words are no comfort. Reaching over, she places a hand on his cheek, turning him to face her. He looks as though he might cry until she leans in and presses her lips to his. For the moment, the fear is gone, and his eyes flutter closed as his arms slide around her, pulling her closer. As far as I know, this is their first “real” kiss, and I can’t help but sigh a little at how romantic it is. She pulls back slightly as the wheel begins its descent, but not too much. She wraps her arms around him, and rests her head on his shoulder. He no longer looks as though he’s going to have a panic attack, but he’s not entirely comfortable. He holds onto her tightly, resting his cheek against her hair, keeping his eyes closed for the remainder of the ride so he doesn’t have to watch the ground get father and father away as they go back up.

She kisses him lightly, when his feet are once more on solid ground, thanking him for going with her, despite his fear of heights. He smiles brightly, and slips an arm around her shoulders as we move on. I drag them towards the scrambler now, knowing that he will get on any ride as long as she is beside him.

[furandfeathers]

Life itself is the most wonderful fairy tale
-Hans Christian Andersen

Tonight marks their six month anniversary. They are not doing anything special, as both agreed they just want a quiet evening together. I offered to cook for them, and after assuring them that it was no trouble and I wanted the practice, they agreed. Now they sit at the kitchen table, watching me prepare their chicken parmesan and salad. He reaches over and takes her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. I catch a flash of light out of the corner of my eye, and turn just in time to watch him slide his high school ring off his hand and onto her middle finger. Her eyes water a little, but she smiles happily, leaning across the table to seal the deal with a kiss.

I feel a small twinge of jealousy as she admires her shiny new accessory. However dinner is nearly ready; I am only waiting on the cheese. They are chatting with me about the last football game, hands tangled together between them on the table, when her mother sweeps in. The room falls silent. She stops in the center of the kitchen, staring pointedly at the ring that now resides on her daughter’s finger with a look of absolute distaste. She says nothing, but her daughter shrinks under her gaze. With courage that I admire, he noticeably tightens his grip on her hand. Her mother’s mouth becomes a thin, angry line, but she remains silent, opting instead to stick her nose in the air and leave the room the same way she entered.

Her gaze drops to the table as he lets go of her hand, and I hear her whisper an apology. He surprises both of us by standing, rounding the table, and pulling her into his arms. She makes a sound that is half sigh, half sob, and burrows deeper into his embrace, her arms curling around him, holding him tightly. Footsteps sound outside the door, and he holds her closer, almost possessively, but the door never opens. Suddenly, I remember the chicken, and with a yelp, I throw open the oven door. They pull apart slightly to watch me pull the perfectly done chicken parmesan from the oven. I announce that dinner is served and he tugs her in the direction of the dining room.

Later, when I’ve finished cleaning up, I make my way to the living room where they’ve retired to watch television. He is sitting on the sofa, she is curled up beside him, her head on his chest, her feet tucked up under her. His arms are around her, one hand playing with her ponytail. She looks happy, as if she doesn’t remember the incident earlier, but I know she does. I start to say goodbye, but she waves it off, patting the seat beside her on the sofa, telling me that it’s pouring rain and I’m not going anywhere. The television flickers as the wind picks up, and I hear the rain pounding against the window. My decision made, I take a seat on the far end of the sofa.

We watch television in relative silence, trying to tune out the storm that is brewing outside. I hear thunder in the distance, and glance over at her. She has always had a fear of loud noises. I see her tighten her grip on him, and I know she heard it too. A few minutes later, there is a loud crash of thunder, the storm is right over us now, and the cable goes out completely. She gives a shriek of fear, and practically jumps into his lap. He tries to soothe her, telling her it’s just noise, and that it will be all right, but he is drowned out by another clap of thunder that makes the lights flicker. The storm is fierce, and pulling my knees up to my chest, I am glad that I decided to stay here.

There is a deafening crack; lightning strikes something terribly close. She is too frightened to even scream. She whimpers a little, on the verge of tears. He pulls her completely onto his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around her. She winds her arms around his neck, burying her face against his shoulder, pressing as close to him as she can. He reaches up to stroke her hair softly, and she calms a little. She feels safe in his arms.

After a few minutes, he begins talking over the storm, telling us stories of his childhood. He was afraid of thunderstorms, but could never find any place to hide because he was more afraid of monsters. I throw in some stories of my own. My mother used to tell me that if I cleaned my room I would get rid of the monsters. We get her laughing, and she puts her fears out of her mind for the time being.

At last the storm is over, and we realize it is very late; time for both of us to go home. She untangles herself from his arms, and walks us to the door. I get hugs and a thank you from both of them for cooking for them. I wish them a happy anniversary, and set off for home. Turning at the end of the walk, I see him draw her close for a lingering kiss. They pull apart reluctantly, and he promises to call her and let her know he made it home. I smile to myself. My house is only a few down the street and she makes me call too. I continue down the street with a smile, because although it didn’t go completely smoothly, I know they had a wonderful six month anniversary.

[OSUSprinks]

These are so incredibly sweet! I had missed the ferris wheel one, but you did a lovely job with it. I know where these are going of course, so it's a bit bittersweet for me at the moment, but I love them! Thank you for sharing these with us, Ro!

By the way, I LOVE THE TITLE! It is perfect.

[pinkie]

This is so lovely! Well-written and i could certainly relate to the scary thunders and 'her' jumping into 'his' lap (i do the same....)

Thank you for sharing!

[laundrybasket]

Ooh, those were so sweet! I adore how you wrote it- no names, no dialogue. It worked really well Their romance was so wonderful and- for lack of a better word and a thesarus- sweet! lol. Lovely vignettes.

[furandfeathers]

Although it is nearly Easter and should be warming up, we are on the receiving end of a gigantic nor’easter that buries us under almost two feet of snow. Everything is canceled, the town virtually shutting down until the snow is clear. Somehow, he makes it over to her house, where she and I are lounging around, reading Life magazine and wasting the day away. We go up to her room, away from the prying eyes of her mother, who enjoys spending the day glaring at us while she cleans. I don’t understand how a woman could dislike her own child so much.

In her room, he has taken to inspecting the photographs. He finds one of she and I, we’re about ten and dressed to go sledding. All you can see is our eyes. She recalls that that is the day she broke my arm. He demands the rest of the story, so she explains how we had to bail out of the sled or hit the tree. Deciding the ground would hurt less, we jumped and she managed to land on my arm, bending it in an unnatural direction. He tells us he has never been sledding, and we both give shouts of surprise.

She goes running out of the room and down the stairs, returning seconds later with a mass of black cloth that she flings at him. They are her father’s snow pants and she tells me to go home and get dressed, we’re going sledding. I laugh aloud at what our mothers are going to say about this then leave for my house, promising to meet them in fifteen minutes at the hill.

I arrive first, they come a few minutes later, he dressed in her father’s winter clothes, and she with explanations of how they almost hadn’t been able to find the sleds. It appears that kids have been here already, and they’ve packed down the hill to perfection for us. She and I go down first, demonstrating for him, but really wanting to see his face as he goes down. He goes horribly crooked, veering off into the unpacked snow before falling off. He comes up sputtering and glares at us as we giggle our way back up the hill.

He returns to the top, dropping his sled in a huff of mock anger. She sits on the front end of the toboggan trying to compose herself. She turns her back for just a minute, and he takes the opportunity to push the sled, jumping on behind her as it begins its descent. Her scream becomes a laugh as again they go sideways, landing in a tangle in two feet of snow. He helps her up, brushing the snow out of her hair and kissing her lightly before they climb the hill, mitten in mitten.

We spend the next forty five minutes first, trying to teach him to steer, and then throwing snowballs at each other. When we’re laughing too hard to continue fighting, we are covered in snow and soaked through. She suggests returning to her house for hot chocolate. We agree and collect the sleds. The temperature has dropped and by the time we reach her house we are all shivering.

Leaving our wet things in a pile in the laundry room, we move into the kitchen, where she puts milk in a saucepan on the stove. After getting out all the necessary things for cocoa the milk is still not boiling, and she turns back to us, shivering slightly. In an instant he has moved behind her, enveloping her slim frame in his arms. She smiles, leaning back against him, settling further into his embrace. For a moment the room seems a little colder and I wish for someone to hold me.

A hiss from the pan alerts us to the boiling milk and the two of them work in relative silence to mix the three hot cocoas. We take them into the living room, and sit on the floor around the coffee table, to play a game of monopoly. It isn’t long before I’m losing; the two of them teaming up to run me off the board. I have to laugh later though when she turns on him, effectively taking over and winning by a landslide.

A quick glance at the clock tells me that it’s almost dinner time, and that we’ve wasted the whole day doing things normally reserved for people half our age. However, I’m not complaining, as I had more fun today than I have in a long time, and judging from the way their cuddling on the couch turned into a pillow fight, I believe they did as well.

[OSUSprinks]

Awh that was so sweet. It sounds like the perfect winter snow-in, and an example for Jaye of why we crazy people like the snow. Beautiful job. I do feel bad for their friend though. I hope she finds happiness too.

[furandfeathers]

I've been feeling left out of the banner loop, so I made one for this vignette. I don't particularly care for the first part of this one, it's definitely something I'll revisit in the future, but after NaNo, I really wanted to get back into writing this story, they are just too adorable to leave hanging.






I go running up the sidewalk, holding up the hem of my brand new dress, heels in one hand, the backpack that contains real clothes in the other, and my hair flying out behind me. I haven’t bothered to knock once in the last ten years, and that certainly doesn’t stop me now. I burst through the door, shouting a hello to her father and older brother who sit, watching television in the living room, before I go tearing upstairs.

She barely looks up as I come crashing through the door, watching me in the mirror as I collapse in a heap on the bed, and calmly asking for help with the clasp of her necklace. I stare incredulously for a moment, before asking how she can be so calm. She tells me that one of us has to be. Vacating the chair in front of the mirror, she orders me to sit, asking what I would like done with my hair. I shrug helplessly and she sets about brushing out my wind blown hair before picking up the curling iron.

Several gallons of hairspray and a few thousand hairpins later, I look presentable, and we slip on our shoes and head downstairs. He is downstairs waiting to our surprise, along with his best friend who is my date for the evening. They sit comfortably, chatting with her father and brother. Her mother sits silently in a wingback chair near the fireplace. They stand as we enter, her father getting a little teary eyed and gushing about how beautiful we both look, while the three boys stare at us in awe. I think her brother has just realized that we are, in fact, girls. Her mother remains silent, staring at the floor. After her father has snapped a few pictures, and told the boys that they had better take care of us, we depart, heading for his pick-up truck. Remembering our trip to the fair, I wonder how all four of us are going to fit.

We manage, and though I am nearly squeezed to the point of suffocation, we arrive at our Prom within ten minutes. Thankfully, it isn’t a long drive. Tumbling from the car, we go inside and downstairs to the gymnasium, where the dance is being held. It is dark, and loud music is blasting. It seems that half the school has arrived before us, and they are already dancing. Finding a table in the corner, we set down our purses and begin to head out on the dance floor. Realizing the boys aren’t behind us, we turn and go back to the table.

Both look embarrassed that they can’t dance. I glance uncertainly at her, wondering if we’re going to have to dance with each other, but she takes his hand, lacing her fingers tightly through his and tugs him in the direction of the floor. He is hesitant, but her encouraging smile soon has him following obediently. His friend decides that if they’re going to dance, then we should too, and not long after we join them in the crowd.

My date is indeed a horrendous dancer, and I find my attention drawn to them. Glen Miller is playing and she is trying to teach him to swing dance, but only succeeding in giving herself seriously bruised toes. About the forth time she winces in pain, he stops, pulling away and shaking his head, telling her to give up on him, he doesn’t want to hurt her. It doesn’t take long for her to give in, and though he tries his best to apologize she won’t hear of it. Instead, she leads him in the direction of the punch table. His friend suggests a break and we join them.

It is our bad luck that the entire football team is crowded around the punch table at that particular moment. We squeeze in to grab cups and move to stand a few feet away, screaming at each other to be heard over the music. We have just begun a conversation about The Beatles, when the jocks behind us start getting rowdy, jumping around and pushing each other. One of them bumps into him, sending his punch cup flying out of his hand, and bouncing to the floor, spraying her with the sticky red liquid in the process.

She shrieks in surprise, and he turns a brilliant shade of red, looking as though he might cry, as he stammers out an apology. Her eyes soften when she looks up at him, and she smiles slightly. Reaching out a hand, she cups his cheek in her palm, telling him it’s all right; she never intended to wear the dress again anyway. He doesn’t look convinced, so she adds that if there is one thing her mother loves to do, it’s clean. If anyone can get the stains out, she can.

Suddenly her attention is drawn to something and her eyes light up in an epiphany. Following her gaze, all we see is the open cafeteria door across the hall. Forgetting about the red stains on her dress, she grabs his hand, pulling him along with her. The cafeteria is half in shadow, but the music can still be clearly heard. I agree with her that it’s the perfect place to learn to dance. The song is slow, and we begin teaching the boys with a simple box step. He is a better student than my date, but the simple step is still too complicated for a boy with two left feet. He is getting frustrated again, when the song draws to a close.

Stepping closer, she winds her arms around his neck as a familiar bass line begins the next song. They sway gently to the music, he wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. We watch, mesmerized by the scene before us, as he leans closer and sings softly to her. I’ve got sunshine, on a cloudy day. When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May.

We spend the rest of the prom in the cafeteria, the four of us dancing, sometimes on the tables, sometimes on the floor, until the last song fades away. We grab our purses and head for his truck, discussing whether or not we want to go to the after prom party. My date suggests midnight bowling, and the idea is met with great enthusiasm.

They walk ahead of us into the bowling alley, arms around each other, and once inside, she and I head in one direction while they go in the other to change clothes. Meeting up again at our designated lane, we leave our bags in a pile while we choose a ball. I get to go first, and after sending my ball sailing down the lane to knock down four whole pins, I turn to get it from the machine, but my eyes are drawn to the adorable scene before me.

They sit together on a bench, her legs draped over his, arms around each other, her head resting on his shoulder. Her eyes are closed and she looks utterly content. I hate to say it, but it’s his turn to go. Untangling himself he stands, receiving a kiss for luck before he goes. A few seconds later, the three of us are giggling uncontrollably. He looks like a frog when he bowls.

He pouts for awhile, until she bowls a strike, and he is on his feet cheering with the rest of us. She comes skipping back to us, and he pulls her into his arms, picking her up and swinging her around. She demands to be put back down, and settles comfortably beside him when he grants her request.

Somehow, he manages to blow us all away, winning by a landslide, and providing fantastic entertainment in the process. Squishing ourselves back into the truck, we head for home, first dropping off his friend and then continuing to my house. Though there is more room in the truck now, she remains pressed against him, her head on his shoulder, and I wonder if she has fallen asleep. I am staring out the window, and have just spotted my house when I become aware of a noise in the otherwise silently truck. Looking over, I realize he is humming quietly.

Well, I guess you’ll say
What can make me feel this way
My girl

[stefdarlin]

This is so terribly sweet. I think it is neat how you are telling it without dialog. Puts a new twist in. I really like how, even though he is normally shy, he stands up for her.

They seem to be perfectly matched. I also love the one about sledding. It is very enlightening for those of us who never get to experience snow.

I look forward to more!

Cheers!

Stef =o)

[OSUSprinks]

Oh Ro, I can't tell you how hard it is to read these knowing about the future. BUt still this is wonderful. Prom sounded great. Her mom is still horrible, but I'm glad her dad and brother are good guys. Stef is right about him standing up for her even though he is shy. The humming was sweet. Great job!

[furandfeathers]

You know the end as well, though. Doesn't that make it easier? Fluff will prevail, I promise.

[furandfeathers]

Only love lets us see normal things
In an extraordinary way
-Anonymous

I am gathering my books at my locker when his worried face appears in my magnetic mirror. Standing, I fish around for a pencil before turning to face him. Before he can voice his concerns, I tell him that she stayed home today, she isn’t feeling well. His eyebrows shoot up in shock and worry, demanding to know why I left her there with her mother, as he turns, apparently planning to skip school. Placing a restraining hand on his arm, I inform him that her father has stayed home with her, he wasn’t feeling well either.

I continue to explain as we walk in the direction of our first class; she gave me specific instructions that neither of us were to skip school, she will be fine and see us after. I promised that we would bring her homework. He agrees, though I can see in his eyes the desire to disregard her wishes. In the end, his lack of an adventurous streak wins, and we find our seats in the classroom. I doubt he’s ever skipped a day of school in his life. She hasn’t either, now that I think of it, she’s always there, unless she’s violently ill. I make a mental note that the three of us must play hooky at least once. You can’t go through high school without having a skip day; it must be against some law.

I only forget to get her homework from two classes, and scribble a note on the back of my hand to pick it up at the end of the day. He is in my last class of the day, and before it begins we make plans to go directly to her house after school. I sit, doodling in my notebook, but he doesn’t even pretend to take notes. His eyes flicker to the clock every few seconds, and a frown creases his features. I think about passing him a note, and warning him that a watched pot never boils, but we are both distracted momentarily when the teacher asks to collect the homework.

The instant the bell sounds; the whole class is out of their seats and heading for the door. I stop to collect her homework from the teacher, and then meeting up with him in the hallway, we gather our things and make our way to his truck. I have to jog to keep up with him as he strides across the parking lot. I’ve become used to his driving, and we arrive at her house in no time. He raises his hand to knock, but I reach around him opening the door and walking in. He is right behind me.

We find she and her father in the living room, she stretched out on the couch under several blankets, while her father sits in a chair by the fire. They are watching television, but both greet us enthusiastically as we enter. Her mother is no where to be found, and I give a small sigh of relief before pulling her homework from my bag and depositing it on the coffee table. He is sitting on the sofa beside her, and after kissing her shyly as he’s very much aware of her father behind us, he places a gentle hand on her cheek. She is still feverish.

I ask if I can get them anything, and both respond in the negative. She wants to hear all about what we did today while she wasn’t there. I show her the drawing I did in my last class, and relate the story of how I came to conclusion that we need to have a skip day. She starts to protest, but her father joins the conversation saying that he thinks that a good idea. Perhaps when she feels better, we can take a day to go tubing down the river. That’s what he and his friends always used to do. We all stare at him a moment, before joining in his laughter. Her dad is even cooler than I thought he was.

After that, her father leaves us to go to his study try to get some work done. She fidgets uncomfortably on the couch. Sitting up, she orders him to move down a little and sit fully on the piece of furniture with her. I take the chair her father has vacated, and when I look back over at them, they have settled, he reclining against the cushions, and she snuggled into his side, arms wound tightly around him.

She is tired, and it isn’t long before she’s fallen asleep in his comfortable embrace. Her father re enters the room, and he smiles the scene before him. He relaxes under her father’s approving gaze. I offer to give him back his chair, but he suggests a game of cards instead, and soon I am seated on the floor across from him, cards laid out on the coffee table between us. She wakes up halfway through our intense game of war, coughing violently. We both look over to make sure she is all right, and are reassured at the sight of him, holding her tenderly, rubbing circles on her back until the fit has passed. She smiles tiredly, and cuddles up against him again, closing her eyes contentedly.

Her mother wafts past, holding a broom and dustpan, casting a disapproving glare on both the two on the couch and the two playing cards. She is ignored by all and moves on. Glancing over, I see him watching the doorway as well, his fingers idly toying with her hair. A silent question is passed between us, and I shrug slightly, but decide that I shouldn’t ask her father what he sees in his wife, since it really isn’t any of our business.

My excited shriek wakes her almost an hour later when the card game finally comes to an end. He applauds for me before sliding his arms around her again. She muses that she must be getting better, because she is starting to get hungry. I offer to help her father cook dinner, and we go into the kitchen. He gets the pan while, I open the soup can.

Returning to the living room, I find her sitting up and talking quietly with him. Taking drink orders, I go back to the kitchen to fetch them. Her father and I deliver dinner to the living room, where we all crowd around the coffee table. Her mother, finding it improper to eat anywhere but the dining room table, has opted to eat alone.

The room falls silent as we finish eating, and we all make ourselves comfortable as her father turns on the news. It appears that he feels more comfortable here now, and he kicks off his shoes, stretching out a little more on the sofa. She reclines in his arms, her head on his shoulder, one hand tangling with his. They begin a thumb war game. His fingers are just a little bit longer, and she will probably never win. It doesn’t prevent her from trying though, and she just laughs as time and again he easily pins her thumb down.

It becomes late rather quickly, and she sits up, telling us to go home and do our homework. He protests, but she silences him with a finger to his lips, replying that she is going to do her homework and get some rest so she can return to school the next day. He grudgingly agrees to go home, and she flashes him a brilliant smile, untangling herself from his arms and standing. She sways on her feet for only a second, but he up beside her in a flash, a steadying hand on her waist.

Taking his hand, she leads him in the direction of the door, and after saying goodbye to her father; I follow, collecting my bag as I go. We go through our now customary ritual, both of us promising to call her when we arrive safely at our respective destinations. I give her a quick hug, telling her to feel better before I trot down the steps and begin in the direction of my house. He lingers in the doorway a moment longer, clearly not wanting to leave. Embracing him tightly, she kisses him one last time before pushing him out the door.

[stefdarlin]

It is so sweet, he is worried about her. I'm not sure what to think about her mom but I like her dad though. ;D I have a very neat picture of them snuggling on the couch there.

Boy, talk about a slave driver. Homework? Even when you're sick, pah! lol. I am looking forward to more.

Cheers!

Stef =o)

[OSUSprinks]

I hope we find out what is up with her mother. And her father too, I guess. Such an odd situation. I do like her dad though.

This was a very sweet scene. I loved that he was instantly thinking he needed to protect her from her mother and was willing to skip school and face her wrath to do it. lol Poor kid.

I'm looking forward to more.

[furandfeathers]

It's official. I'm banner obsessed.


Three weeks later, she has completely recovered from her illness and our last year of high school is rapidly drawing to a close. It is a warm, sunny day in June, temperatures reaching nearly seventy degrees even though it is still early. I arrive on her doorstep early, telling her to go put her bathing suit on under her clothes; we’re not going to school today. While she changes, I phone over to his house, alerting him to the change in plans. He hesitates a little just as she did, but when I tell him that we are going with or without him, he agrees and says he’ll come pick us up.

Her mother suspects nothing as we tramp down the stairs and out the door, our school bags over our shoulders just like every other day. She lets out a nervous giggle as we start down the walk. I assure her that no one will even notice that we’re not there. With impeccable timing, he pulls up just as we reach the sidewalk. After we pile in, he steps on the gas and we speed off down the street without a backward glance.

We leave our bags in the truck when we reach the river, and go down to where they rent out the tubes. An old man sits in the little run down boathouse smoking and reading the newspaper. He shoots a suspicious glare at us through the smoke curling around his head, but doesn’t say anything as he takes our money.

Coming out of the ramshackle building, he leads us down to the dock where the tubes are bobbing in place on the gently flowing river. We wade into the warm water, and get settled in our tubes, and then the old man unties them, giving us each a push into the center of the river with a warning that we’d better stay away from the rocks, and not miss the dock at the end.

We assure him we’ll be careful, and soon he is out of sight around a bend in the river. The water is relatively calm and we drift along peacefully for awhile, until he initiates a water fight. Soon we are all splashing and laughing. When we are thoroughly soaked, give it up.

He paddles his way over to her, reaching for her hand. She laces her fingers through his, and hooks her feet onto my tube, turning her face up toward the sky and contentedly soaking in the warm sun.

We are just about dry when we come to almost a complete stop. We’ve reached a deep pool where the water is still. She and I are engaged in a conversation about what to wear for graduation and what parties we are going to afterward, and we don’t notice him disappear underwater through the hole in his tube. A moment later, it drifts by empty, but we are not given time to ponder why.

Her scream is easily heard a mile away, I’m sure, as he comes up from underwater and overturns her tube. I laugh, but start paddling rapidly when they both turn to me. I’m not fast enough though, and I give a shriek as they rather unceremoniously dump me into the water.

I resurface just in time to see her jump on his shoulders, dunking him under the water. I laugh at the surprise on his face before he goes under. I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye, and turn to see our tubes floating away toward the part of the river that is moving faster. Calling out to them, I begin swimming for the tubes, and they join me a moment later, abandoning their game of trying to drown each other.

We catch them just before they enter the rapids, and swim them to the shore, so we can linger in the pool without worrying about them ending up in the Atlantic. He begins a game of Marco Polo, and I am about to comment on his childish sense of fun when he opens his eyes and throwing out all pretense of playing the game, begins chasing her around the small pool.

I pull myself onto the bank to watch them, not wanting to get involved in their game. She is swimming frantically for the opposite shore, but she tires easily, not quite recovered from her illness, and he catches up to her. Catching her arm as she is about to raise it over her head, he spins her around in the water so she is facing him, and takes hold of her other hand.

I wonder what he’s going to do now that he’s caught her. It appears that he isn’t going to do anything. They tread water, holding hands. He leans forward, resting his forehead against hers. I can’t hear his soft words, but she smiles. I am distracted by a glint of light, and it takes me a moment to process the fact that it is her ring, or his ring technically, catching the midday sun’s rays. I suddenly become aware of the fact that I’m hungry. I alert them to this fact, and they reluctantly pull apart. He starts to turn back in the direction I’m sitting, and only I see her smirk as she jumps on him from behind plunging him beneath the surface once more.

At last, I get them back in their tubes and we continue down the river. The dock at the end of our journey comes up suddenly, and we very nearly miss it altogether. An equally decrepit man comes out of the even smaller building at this end, and helps us tie off the tubes and get out of the water. He offers us a ride back upstream. We accept, and soon we are standing before his pick up where we started out that morning.

Climbing in, we start arguing over a place to go for lunch. Going through all of our options no less than three times, we end up choosing the first one. Soon after, we are seated in a booth, they seated on one side, and me on the other. She and I begin the game we always play, stacking the packets of jelly as high as we can, but soon he joins in and the game becomes something else entirely. The stern, grandmotherly waitress says nothing as she approaches out table, and we hide our spoons in our laps as we place our order. As soon as her back is turned however, we continue catapulting creamers at each other and laughing away the remainder of the afternoon.

[OSUSprinks]

I loved this one. It was nice to see them all happy and fancy free. It made me a little sad when the narrator is just sitting on the edge watching them and seeing her/his ring glint. I want her to have a happy relationship too! Anyway, excellent update.

[stefdarlin]

This was so much fun and carefree. *Sigh* It just makes me want to be a teenager all over again. Glad they had a great skip day too. Thanks for the update. As always, I look forward to more.

Cheers!

Stef =o)

[furandfeathers]

We're about two thirds of the way through the first part of this story now, if my calculations are correct. (Don't hold me to that though, since everyone knows I can't add) There's a little foreshadowing in this one (TANGENT! I just noticed the little counter thingy that's telling me how many characters I have left. Has that always been there??) Uhm... foreshadowing. Yes. It's there. Yes. It was intentional. Sprinks is I think the only one with a general idea where this is going, so speculate away! I'd love to hear what you think is going to happen, and it just might help me figure out what's going to happen. This was a really long author's note. On to the vignette. (Say that word out loud. It's fun. Vignette.)




Graduation is in three days. The three of us are sprawled out in her room, myself on the bed, and the two of them on the floor trying not to feel the heat. We don’t even talk it’s so hot until she suddenly sits up and asks what I’m wearing for graduation. The sandal she flings at me tells me that a tent and a lampshade was not the answer she was looking for. When she clarifies, I tell her that I don’t know what I’m wearing under my gown and to the subsequent parties. She complains that she doesn’t either, and he speaks up, suggesting a shopping trip. At least the mall will be air conditioned. We readily agree, and as we prepare to leave I warn her not to let him go, especially since he’s willing to go shopping with us.

The mall is overflowing with people when we arrive, but we expected this, so it doesn’t try our patience too much. The blast of air conditioning that hits us when we step through the door feels like heaven. We stop just inside the doors, standing off to one side while we decide which direction to go. She and I want to go to the same store, and he doesn’t have a preference. I wonder if he has some ulterior motive. No man willingly gets dragged around a mall, no matter how good a boyfriend he is. She has no suspicions though, and smiles happily as she grabs his hand and sets off for the opposite end of the mall.

We find next to nothing, and decide to get something to eat before we brave the crowd in Macy’s. Deciding on pizza, I offer to stand in line while they go guard an empty table. The line is slow moving, and I watch them fairly sprint across the food court toward an empty table, just beating another couple who had their eye on it. The other couple shoots them a glare as my friends sit down across from each other. My attention is drawn away from them then as the line moves and it is my turn to order.

Macy’s has all kinds of distractions and I think our shopping trip is taking its toll on him as he starts getting silly. We are waylaid in our search for clothes when we get to the perfume. She stops, looking for her mother’s favorite kind as her birthday is approaching. He decides that he can’t smell them well enough through the top and starts spraying bottle after bottle on me, her, and finally himself. We move on smelling like a perfume factory.

Just as we drag him away from the perfume, he finds the hats and he is off and running again. I wish for a camera as he tries on a big, floppy, pink straw hat. She grabs a large cowboy hat. Giggling uncontrollably at the scene before me I join in the fun, grabbing a blue hat with a large feather off the rack. We spend the next ten minutes trading hats until we’ve tried on almost all of them. Moving on, we make our way to the clothes as we have yet to find something to wear.

We are on opposite sides of a rack, when I notice that she has stopped pawing through the clothes, and is standing still staring unseeingly at the bright patterns before her. I ask what’s wrong, and he makes his way over, concerned. She explains that she is just feeling a little blue. In three days a chapter of our lives will be over, and we will have to go on with our own lives. He slips an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him while I tell her that we still have the whole summer together.

I know what is really on her mind, though. She and I are going to the same college, but his is in a different state. He chose to go before they began seriously dating, and I know he is regretting it now. I can see in his eyes that he is going to miss her just as much. Holding her tighter, he speaks softly, telling her that graduation is just the beginning, the beginning of the rest of their lives, which they’re going to spend together. I join in, listing all the fun things we have to do this summer and we get her smiling again.

As we move on through the racks of clothing, I look over at them. His arm is secure around her waist, and she leans her head against his shoulder. She looks content, but in his eyes, I can almost see wheels turning.

[stefdarlin]

YAY! An update. We must be on the same wavelength. lol.

This was an adorable little side trip with a side of forshadowing to go along with it. ;D Your couple is so cute together. It was a little sad there at the end with her focusing on the fact that he and she (heh heh) were going to different colleges, but I was glad they got her out of the sadness.

I look forward to more.

Cheers!

Stef =o)

[OSUSprinks]

The counter is new. It came with the upgrades (along with the gradation of color... oooh pretty).

I loved this even though it was bittersweet for me. I want all good things for them, but I am worried. I love that he played around at the mall with them. It sounds like a great day.

Awesome job! Oh, and I won't speculate since I think I have some idea.

[furandfeathers]

This is kind of short, but it was necessary. Everything was just too perfect for too long. That's not realisitic. Anyway, apologies for the length, and now, I must do homework. Oh, and try to come up with a challenge response. There could be a banner coming later, because I'm banner obsessed



He and I are sitting on my porch about a week later, trying to catch fireflies, but not putting much effort into it while we wait for her to come home. They have gone out to dinner for her mother’s birthday. We ponder the fact that she didn’t seem to be dreading this event as much as we would have. I suggest that maybe their relationship is more complex that we think, but I’ve been her best friend for almost a decade and I’ve never seen any signs of humanity in the woman.

He gives a shout, he has finally caught a firefly, and I lean forward to get a look at the flashing light coming from between his fingers. A brighter light down the road draws my attention away, and we both stand as the car slows before turning into her driveway. Leaving him to release the bug, I skip off the porch and down the sidewalk in the direction of her house.

She waves, as she gets out of the car spotting us immediately. Her father calls out a greeting as we come pounding up the driveway, and in the dark, I could almost swear that I saw a faint smile on her mother’s face. When I look again it is gone, and when I turn to them, they are focused only on each other. I shrug it off as a trick played by the shadows, and she orders us inside while she changes out of the skirt she is wearing.

When she has changed into something warmer, and more comfortable, we set off for the small park down the road. It has only a few pieces of equipment, a slide, a swing set, a merry-go-round, and monkey bars. The swings are our favorite, and as soon as we enter the park we take off running for them. Somehow, she and I beat him and giggling, collapse on the two swings. He pouts for a moment, and then grins wickedly before darting around behind us and pushing us high into the air.

When our feet return to the ground, and our screams have echoed away into the night, we all sit on the swings, she balanced awkwardly on his lap, and me comfortably stretching backwards on my own swing. We ask about her night out with her parents, she has been strangely quiet about it. She responds that it was fine, the food was good and the evening was overall quite pleasant.

Obviously, he wasn’t thinking when he asked her why they had even bothered trying to give her mother a nice evening out. Her head whips around so fast that she nearly tumbles to the ground, his arm around her waist the only thing keeping her upright. He stutters a bit and shoots a glance in my direction when she demands to know what he means by that. I give him a look that tells him he’s on his own, and returning to hanging upside down on the swing, my hair skimming the ground.

He tries to amend his words quickly, but she has already wrenched free of his grip and is stalking across the grass toward the merry-go-round. He looks helplessly at me, and I tell him that he’d better go apologize. His face conveying all the regret he feels for his offhand comment, he starts across the park toward her.

She is standing on the merry-go-round, staring off into the dark. He goes to stand in front of her, but she turns her back on him, moving across the structure to stand on the other side. He stands for a moment, unsure what to do, before he decides that she’s going to listen to him whether she wants to or not. He takes hold of the hand rails and begins running a round. The merry-go-round turns, and startled, she doesn’t have time to jump off before it starts going in rapid circles.

When he is satisfied with the speed, he jumps on, stumbling slightly, but managing to keep his balance. He moves to stand on the other side of the rail she is holding on to forcing her to listen. I watch from the swings as they spin round and round. I can’t hear his words, but as their rotation slows, her gaze lifts from her hands, tightly gripping the metal bar, to his eyes where she can see all the regret.

She nods in response to a question he asks, and the merry-go-round at last comes to a stop. He jumps off and holds out a hand to her, helping her down, then pulling her into his arms. She returns his embrace, hugging him tightly, and pressing a kiss to his cheek. She yells to me, and I get off to swing, racing them toward the monkey bars where she and I try to teach him to hang by his knees. At last we succeed, and the three of us begin a discussion about nothing as all the blood rushes to our heads.

[stefdarlin]

Hmmm, it definitely sounds like a very complex relationship she has with her mother. Somehow I get the feeling her mother doesn't like him. I am really interested in how her mother preceives their relationship (she and he). I also wonder what her mother's realationship is with the girl. I have all sorts of questions but I will stop at those. They are general enough, heh.
The relationship with her mother and her makes me think of my mom a little.

Great image of the park too, btw. It was so easy to visualize it. This was so... well let's just say, I want more. I wish I knew what they said to each other, grumble. ;D Thank you for updating dear. This was great.

I look forward to more.

Cheers!

Stef =o)

[OSUSprinks]

Like Stef, I sometimes miss the dialogue, but on the whole I love how much you can express without it. This was wonderful. You are right about the perfection only being able to last so long, but that is when the real relationship begins. I can't wait to find out more about the mother and how she influences their relationship. I do think that when you have a mother like that, it tends to create a difficult relationship. You can't get a long with her and walk on eggshells, but at the same time, you don't want others to think badly of her. You did great! I really liked it!

happy writing, love,
Laura

[furandfeathers]

Here's the next installment. I think I've more or less solved the issue of her mother, and I've also come up with the "something stupid" that HE does later on in the first part (thanks to my writing professor!) I would like to know if the reason I gave for her mother being cold/distant is good enough. I'm not really sure. Possibly because I wrote it at about midnight last night while waiting for my full system virus scan to be done. (It had to scan 200,000 files to find ONE infected one...grr...) Anyway, enough ranting. On to the vignette!!



The middle of July comes more quickly than we’d like, college will begin in roughly a month. I find her in her backyard, hanging laundry out on the clothesline. He hasn’t arrived yet, but I know he will shortly. She shrugs when I ask her what we should do today, and together we begin coming up with a list of our options. We have almost decided on a picnic by the river when her mother comes out wearing her gardening gloves and hat. Overhearing out conversation, she decides to give her own suggestion, and I nearly fall down in surprise when she suggests a trip out to Coney Island.

Her daughter lights up, exclaiming that that’s a wonderful idea, and she’s certain that he will think so too. At the mention of her boyfriend, her mother’s face hardens again, and I’m confused by the drastic and rapid mood swings. I resolve to confront my friend about this today. As her mother tells us to have a good time in her usual abrupt manner, and moves off to prune her Morning Glories, we hear the familiar sound of his truck as it pulls up in front of the house.

Quickly hanging up the last few socks on the clothesline, we go dashing through the house to meet him at the door with our idea. He is enthusiastic about the idea, and we go upstairs so she and I can collect our things. He and I head for the truck while she sticks her head out the backdoor to say goodbye to her mother, then joins us out front. He turns the volume up and we begin belting out the songs on the radio as we make our way to Coney Island.

When we arrive, we purchase our tickets for the Astroland Amusement Park. Heading for a map, we try to decide on which ride we want to go on first. He suggests the teacups, looking nervously in the direction of the Cyclone. The wooden planks of the roller coaster tremble as the car goes careening around a corner, and though I’m barely heard over the screams of its passengers, I agree with him about starting small, and we start for the teacups.

The park is relatively empty as it is still early, and there is almost no line for the whirling teacups. The three of us climb into a bright green cup, and the ride attendant comes over to make sure we’ve secured the door correctly. I mean, you could get seriously hurt if you were to be flung out of a giant teacup.

As soon as we start turning, she grabs the wheel in the center of the teacup and starts turning it. We both join in and soon we are all squished together as our teacup travels in circles at warp speed. I’m beginning to think that I might be seeing my breakfast again when we start to slow down. Looking over at them, she looks completely unfazed by the spinning, while he has turned a shade slightly lighter than the cup we’re sitting in.

The ride comes to a complete stop, and the attendant wanders over to let us out. He leans heavily on her as they climb down, and I take his other arm. Together we lead him over to a bench to sit down so his stomach can settle. Apparently, even sitting up makes his stomach churn, and so he stretches out along the length of the bench, his head in her lap, and his feet in mine. I contemplate tying his shoelaces together but decide that wouldn’t be very nice since he’s completely incapacitated at the moment.

We sit in relative silence, she running her fingers gently through his thick, dark hair, until I decide that this is the perfect opportunity to ask about her mother. She sighs quietly when I ask, and he opens his eyes, staring up into hers, making sure that she’s all right. Her hand stills, her fingers still tangled in his hair, and he reaches for her free hand with one of his own.

It’s complicated, she tells me, this relationship that she has with her mother. Her mother has never been the warm, fuzzy type that mine was, although she has always cared. I ask why I’ve never seen it, and she tells me that I haven’t looked hard enough. Her mother rarely ever shows affection in the conventional way, but she means well, she assures me.

I am reluctant to ask about her mood swing this morning, but my nosy mouth blurts out the question before my brain has a chance to mull over the consequences. She looks away, toward the brightly colored, spinning china, silent for a long moment. I almost think she is going to avoid the question all together when she looks down at him and answers quietly that her mother doesn’t approve of him.

My jaw drops, but his face doesn’t register shock. He looks as though he’s known all along, and I’m about to question this, when he tells her that he suspected that. I wonder aloud what could possibly be wrong with him, he’s smart, he has a promising future, he’s nice-ish looking. He looks mildly offended by this, so I hurriedly explain that he’s good looking, he’s just not my type. They both laugh at the red tint my face has acquired.

Her smile fading, her hand returns to ruffling through his hair as she tells him that it isn’t just him, her mother isn’t really nice to anyone, she doesn’t think anyone is good enough for her daughter. She looks as though she might cry, like he might hate her for this revelation. He replies that he doesn’t think he’s good enough for her either, but he’ll do his best.

I’m not entirely sure how she didn’t melt into a little puddle right then, I certainly would have. That is quite possibly the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. Of course, what I say aloud is that now my stomach isn’t feeling well, and he needs to get off the bench so I can lie down. They both laugh, and he sits up, asking what ride we should go on next.

She demands a rollercoaster, and I agree. He takes a bit more convincing, but at last he decides that they can’t be any worse than the teacups, and we start off in the direction of one of the smaller ones, saving the best for last. We walk side by side, his arm around her waist, her arm around my shoulders, and we can’t help but laugh at the poor little boy throwing up in the bushes near the teacups. The mystery of her mother’s behavior has been more or less solved, and for now, everything looks bright.

[OSUSprinks]

hmmmm...

I don't know if this is because of our conversations, my assumptions, or the story itself, but I still feel like there is more where the mother is concerned. I think the part about her dislike of "He" makes sense, but as far as the mother's relationship with "She" and even the father, I still feel like there is more underneath.

That said, I do like what you have here. I think it explains, but it also leaves room for why the mother is distant and not affectionate if you want to get into that at another time.

I'm wondering now if the mother approved of the future. You have me thinking, Lizz.

Also, I agree with the friend, I would have been a puddle.

[furandfeathers]

Yeah, I think there has to be something else wrong with her mother too. Some deep dark secret. However, I have no idea what that is, or how I'm going to be able to bring up the subject. It will have to be soon I think, since if I planned right, we're nearing the end of Part One and most of these characters...actually, all but he and she are going to disappear. I'll have to work on that.

[stefdarlin]

I guess we are turning the tables now. You updated, I really need to but am busy, busy, busy for work. But I will be on vacation next week so maybe I can squeeze something in. ;D

I agree with Laura, I feel like something else is there. Her mom and dad seem to be such polar opposites. Of course, I am one to talk because the Hubby and I seem to be that way. Perhaps it is true, opposites attract.

Also, I love the teacup ride but not that feeling. I felt that way once after spinning incessantly on some round-about dragons at Cypress Gardens. That is a truly awful feeling, I felt his pain, argh.

This was very nicely done and I am happy you updated dear. I am looking forward to more and maybe finding more out about her mother.

Cheers!

Stef =o)

[furandfeathers]

Not sure about this one. Let me know if you think it works.





The end of August comes in a hurry, and for once we are at his house, watching him pack for college. He leaves almost a full week earlier than we do. She is not smiling, but helps him anyway, handing him things yet to be asked for, and throwing things she thinks he’ll need into his milk crates. Soon it is time to go, as his parents have requested one final family dinner, and we say goodnight, promising to be there again first thing in the morning to say goodbye. She manages to hold in her tears, but her eyes remain watery the whole way home.

The next morning dawns gray and raining, matching her mood. I arrive at her house at the appointed time and her mother questions the early hour. We explain where we’re going and are surprised to say the least when she tells us point-blank, ‘no.’ Her daughter protests immediately, telling her that maybe she misunderstood, he is leaving today, she won’t see him again until Christmas. Her mother remains clam and cold, replying that she will not be saying goodbye to him today. Her cry of anger comes out strangled, and tears begin rolling down her face. I can’t be silent anymore and ask how she could be so cruel. For a moment a pained expression comes across her features, but it is gone again almost instantly.

She isn’t given time to answer my question as her father enters the room, brought downstairs by his daughter’s sobs. Demanding to know what is going on, she launches herself into his arm and through her tears chokes out the whole story. I expect him to be angry when she’s finished but his expression shows only weariness.

It’s not the same, he says quietly, and it takes a moment for me to realize that his statement is directed at his wife. My friend’s sobs have quieted and she looks up at her father, asking what he is talking about. He glances over at her mother, who is silently shaking her head, the opens his mouth to speak.

When her mother was our age, he tells us, she was seeing another man. They spent every moment together, and they were going to be married when he returned from Korea. He was going with his best friend, and the morning they left, she came to say goodbye. It had been raining that day too, her father mused, and it suddenly hit me that he was the best friend.

To make a long story short, he continued, his best friend and her first love hadn’t come back from Korea. When he returned he found her, and they’d grieved together. Through their grief a friendship was born that evolved into the relationship they have today. Her father knows her mother can never love him as much as she loved his best friend, but he also knows that she loves him as much as she can.

We are silent for a long time after his tragic revelation. My friend asks why she can’t go say goodbye, her father is right, it isn’t the same. It’s similar, I tell her, and her mother wants to spare her the same thing. Her other nods slowly in agreement, explaining that now she is superstitious of saying goodbye, and of showing that she cares. I am floored by this profound gesture of love but refrain from saying anything.
She is pleading with her mother now, begging her to see the difference between college and war, telling her that she will take whatever consequences fate decides to deal her for saying goodbye. Her father joins in, knowing he could overrule her decision, but deciding that she needs to change her mine on her own. I hold my breath, wondering what she’ll decide and when I’m just about to pass out, she begins nodding slightly as tears well in her eyes. We can go, she manages to say, and before her father can even offer to drive us, my friend has thrown her arms around her mother for a split second, the she is out the door, running through the rain. I shrug helplessly, then take off after her.

When we reach his house his parents are just closing the trunk, while he waits on the porch looking heartbroken. She yells to him, and his head snaps up. He leaps off the porch, sprinting down the driveway and meeting her at the end. She throws herself at him and he stumbles, but doesn’t fall as he catches her and holds her tightly. I slow down and walk the rest of the way to where they are standing. They haven’t pulled apart by the time I reach them, and while she can’t get any wetter, he is getting soaked. He doesn’t seem to care though, his attention focused solely on her.

When I am beside them, I can see that she is crying, her tears mixing with the rain dripping down her cheeks. Trillions of raindrops hit the ground before they pull back. She is telling him the story of this morning, apologizing profusely for almost missing him.

It’s all right, he soothes, we didn’t miss him. She clings to him, as he leads her up into the porch, out of the rain. I follow, feeling out of place, but not really enthusiastic about standing in the rain. He draws her over to the porch swing and they sit, she curled against him, her head on his shoulder. He takes both her hands in his, and speaks softly to her. Over the rain, I can just make out his words as he once again tells her that this is not the end. They will have letters, and telephone calls, and vacations. He won’t forget her if that’s what she’s worried about, and this separation will test the strength of their relationship. She calms a little, promising to call, and write to him as well. She knows that this isn’t the end.

His parents inform him regretfully that they must leave now. He stands, pulling her up with him and they stand face to face before she collapses against him, holding on for dear life. He murmurs into her hair that it will be Christmas before we know it, and soon we’ll all be sledding again. She giggles at this, and lifts her head to look up into his eyes. Not caring that his parents are right there, he pulls her into a long, tender kiss. After, he tells her he loves her and she replies the same.

Reluctantly she releases him, and I give him an awkward hug, telling him jokingly to be good and not party too much. Even she laughs at that. Pulling her into his arms he holds her close for another minute before kissing her once more, then stepping off the porch and into the rain. We wave until the car is out of sight, then I drape my arm over her shoulders, and we start off towards her house as the rain begins to let up just a little.

[OSUSprinks]

I loved this Lizz. I think it was a great choice. It made me feel better and sadder as well about the mother and father's relationship. I like that there isn't something horribly wrong with her mother and that she overcame her fears for her daughter's sake. I liked it a lot dear!