Happy Friday Friends…
Today I am offering up a little preview of a short story I’m almost done with. Hope this starts your weekend with a smile! Enjoy and by all means tell me what you think!
Have a great weekend!
Summer camp is supposed to be fun. It is supposed to be a time where you can hang out with your friends, and make new friends. It is not supposed to be the place where you are tortured.
“Come on Emilia it isn’t that bad.” My camp counselor Rosie said as she shoved me into the small room where Dean Wickham was sitting. The very vain of my existence, the boy who shall no longer be named from this point on and shall be referred to as it! It was moving his legs back and forth like it was on a stupid swing while holding his hands on the lip of the chair. Its shoulders were curled and his stupid floppy brown hair was covering his eyes.
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” I protested and crossed my arms over my chest.
This was supposed to be the summer of fun. This was the last year, before the seventh grade, that I was going to come here. My dad had promised me that I would get to do teenager stuff while I was here, and that I wouldn’t have to run into It.
Rosie snorted. “You and Dean started a food fight.”
I jutted out my lip, which often worked with my dad. “I did not start the food fight.”
Dean snorted. “Dude you so did.”
I stuck my tongue at him and then I pointed my finger at him. “He is the one who started it!”
Rosie placed her hands on my shoulders and waited for a few seconds for me to stop making faces at Dean and look at her.
I sighed. She smelled funny, like a skunk almost but I didn’t tell her this. I blinked and waited. She blinked in response, the whites of her eyes were tinged with light pink.
“I don’t understand why you two can’t get along.” she said softly. “You know he likes you.”
“EW!!” we both proclaimed.
“I would rather die of cooties and whatever STD my dad wants to draw out of his stack of STD pictures he likes to show me!” I said feeling myself turn green.
Rosie snorted. “Do you even know what an STD is?”
“Everyone knows what an STD is.” Dean said crossing his arms across his chest.
“Shut up It, no one asked you.” I looked back to Rosie. “It is a sexually transmitted disease.”
She blinked at Dean then back at me. “Do you know how you get an STD?”
“From girls.” Dean snickered. “Everyone knows that girls are the reason why guys suffer.”
I snorted and Rosie rolled her eyes, very slowly.
“Look,” Rosie sucked in a deep breath. “You two will spend about an hour in here thinking about what you did.”
We both started to shake our heads but she held up a finger hushing us.
I crossed my arms across my chest.
“I want you two to talk about why you don’t like each other and then I want you to find a way to be friends. If you can’t then I am sorry but I’m going to have to send you both home.”
Dean hissed. “Why?”
I nodded in agreement.
“Because this is the same story every year. You two are always fighting and you cause problems with the other kids. Now, sit Emilia and talk or you guys are out of here.”
Begrudgingly I sat next to the worst human on the planet.
After Rose left, we sat, and sat. I swear there was a clock somewhere or I was losing my mind because I heard the ticking loudly in my head.
“I don’t hate you.” I heard It mumble.
I turned my head in his direction, breaking my own rule and looking at him.
“What did you say?”
He looked up at me, his dark brown reddish hair hanging over his eyes. He brushed the hair away and looked at me, and I mean really looked at me. His dark blue eyes seemed to study me. Or at least that was how he made me feel. He rubbed his lips together then took a deep breath.
“I said I don’t hate you.”
“Then why are you so mean to me?”
He blinked. “You really don’t know?”
I shook my head.
“Remember the fourth grade?”
I nodded and pursed my lips. How could I not remember the fourth grade that was only like three years ago and the first year we started going to camp.
It cleared his throat. The look on his face was almost painful, and it made me feel bad for changing his name to it.
“You said some horrible things about my mom when she brought cupcakes to our class.”
I snorted. Of course I said horrible things about his mom. She brought him cupcakes. How dare he have a birthday that landed days before mine, just so he could remind me that my birthday was coming up and my mother didn’t care. She wouldn’t bring me cupcakes, and she sure as heck wouldn’t come to my class with any kind of other treats. Cause she wasn’t around anymore. My dad said it is because she just couldn’t live here in Port Angeles.
In one of her stupid letters she said it was too suffocating there, and boring going to Forks in the winter. She wanted the sun, she wanted warm water and she wanted to be free from my dad. I also took it that she wanted to be free of me.
“I’m sorry.” I said looking down at my shoes. My once white Keds were slowly turning black. I would need to clean them before the first day of school. I knew my dad would buy me a new pair but I loved these, and I wanted to wear them again.
Dean shrugs. “My dad said the reason you were mean was because you don’t have a mom.”
I snapped my head up and looked over at him.
He wasn’t trying to be mean, I could tell by the way he was looking at me.
“Why would your dad say that to you?”
Dean shrugs. “Well, he told me that it isn’t good to hate someone. That hate is too strong of a word, and sometimes you don’t know what is going on with a person that makes them act the way that they do.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “So, if your dad told you that why are you still mean?”
He smiles bright and toothy, I can see one of his molars coming in.
“I do that so you don’t feel left out. I mean if you feel someone is thinking about you, then you won’t feel bad about your mom being gone.” He says as though his explanation would fill the hole left inside of me by my mom.
Weakly I smile. I then turn my attention to the window in front of us. Today was a wonderful day, the pine smell from the trees was thick in the air, the sun wasn’t too hot and there was not a cloud in sight. I really didn’t want to go home, and even though he annoyed me I really didn’t want to have Dean go home either.
“I’m sorry.” I said again. “Friends?” I said sticking my hand out to him the way I’d seen my dad do when he ran into a business associate around town.
Dean looked at my hand for a moment then back up at me.
“My brother and I usually spit on our hands when we make an important deal.”
“That’s gross.” I say almost taking my hand back.
He shrugs. “My parents kiss.”
I make a gagging noise. “We can just spit on our hands.”
He shrugs, “Cool.”
I watch him spit in his hand first, just to watch how he does it, then I spit in mine. As soon as our hands make contact I feel almost too warm. I don’t feel the icky slobber in my hand just the heat and rough skin of his hand against mine.
“So, now that we are friends.” He says wiping his hand on the front of his cargo shorts. “Do you want to go canoeing with me?”
I snort. “Sure.”
“How long have we been here?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure, but I am pretty sure if Rosie doesn’t come back before the sun drops , she forgot us.”
He laughs. “Did you notice she smelled like a skunk?”
“You did too?”
He nods. “My brother says it is something she smokes.”
“How would your brother know? Isn’t he just a few years older than you?”
“Yeah, but he does cool things and he knows stuff.”
I nod. “Must be pretty cool having siblings.”
Dean glares at me. “Um, no. My sister is a pain, and my brother is always trying to fight me.”
“I am sure your sister is just feeling left out.” I say.
He shakes his head. “No, it is because she is about to be a woman. Whatever that means, but mom says I should totally give her some space.”
“A woman?” I say glaring at my feet. “What is that some kind of change?”
He shakes his head. “I have no idea but I do know that she suddenly buys a lot of magazines and wants all kinds of makeup.”
“Makeup?” I say alarmed.
He nods again. “I know, and right now she looks like a clown but I am not supposed to say she looks silly because it makes her cry. It is so annoying.”
He purses his lips and narrows his eyes in thought.
“Hey, do you think that will happen to you? I would hate for that to happen to you, I mean you seem pretty cool.”
I shrug. “I’ll have to ask my dad.”
He nods. “Well, if you can fight it then you should cause man it doesn’t look fun.”
“Anytime,” he smiles at me. “Friend.”
Copyright The Scribbling Writer, at Thescribblingwriter.com. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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