Hello there reader…
For the last month or so this story has really been nagging at me. So instead of looking for a job (recent college grad w/a degree in English Lit&Writing – anyone need someone like that?), I decided to type up the bits I have and see if (with your encouragement/interest) I might actually write all of it. This is the first thing I've ever written of my own fiction. I have some things over at , but this is different. In an effort to keep this note as short as possible, I'll stop here and let you get to the story. I'd love to hear what you all have to think; constructive criticism is welcome. I just need some sort of motivation, inspiration, etc. to figure out if or how to continue this past the few chapters I've got. I'll post the rest I have written probably over the next week or so in an effort to maybe kick my ass into gear and do more than outline this.
Chapter 1: There's Us
Looking down at my shoes
The one smiling like the sun
What were you thinking
What was the song inside your head
Going on about a band
Working out how we play our hand
I lay there dreaming
Later all alone in my bed…
- There's Us by Alexz Johnson
"You're late," came an obviously annoyed voice in the dark.
"Sorry. Bren drove me so..." he let the sentence hang, fumbling across the room from his window entrance for the light. Once the room was illuminated he could easily make out the aggravated face that accompanied the tone of voice he had received. She lay in the middle of the bed, her long red hair spread over the pillows, staring at the ceiling and all of its white glory.
"What happened to your car?"
"Mom's wasn't working so I had to sacrifice the 'stang."
"I don't know why you call it that. Your car is the farthest thing from a Mustang I have ever seen."
"Hey! It is wishful thinking okay. And no car insults miss public transportation or I'm out of here."
"No!" she all but shouted, sitting up and finally looking at him. "Don't go. I should be glad you're here at all. I mean I'm surprised she let you out of the car or was it more you tuck and rolled when she reached a stop light?."
With a sigh the belayed his frustration with the topic they were coming close to discussing for the hundredth time, he sunk onto the bed next to her. "Are we really gonna do this tonight?"
Contrite, she ventured an apology while picking at invisible fibers on the comforter, "No. Sorry. I'm just bummed you're here so late. I had this new recipe I wanted to try out, but it should be eaten straight out of the oven and it's too late now. I was waiting for your text saying you were on the way and then you never did…"
"Aw, well Amie Crocker, you can make it for me next time. And I promise I'll even help!"
"Yeah I'd like to see that. On second thought, I doubt my stomach could handle such a disaster. Just let me know next time okay, I figured it was Tuesday so I thought we were set for tonight…"
"I know, I know, this is our day, but sometimes things come up, okay?"
"Yeah sure, whatever," Amie shrugged, one pale rounded shoulder peeking through her over-sized band t-shirt. She clearly just wanted to let this go. "Let's just get to the good part: pop in the movie."
And so it started. Another Tuesday night. A ritual of sorts for these two best friends. Not a Tuesday had gone by in years that they weren't together. Why they had picked Tuesdays, neither could tell you; it had simply gone on for so long that questions weren't really asked any more. Whether she simply tutored him for an upcoming exam – her red head and his dark brown mop buried nose deep inside textbooks – or they watched a favorite movie, nothing seemed to impede these get-togethers. Even her parents' tragic death a year ago or his girlfriend's best efforts to separate them seemed too big of obstacles. He'd simply held her hand the Tuesday following her world falling apart, offering the best of shoulders to cry on and she practiced (or at least feigned patience) when it came to his slightly scheming girlfriend.
Later that night, the movie had been forgotten ("That's what we get for trying to watch something with subtitles!" "Excuse me for trying to broaden our horizons!"). They sat together listening to some new music she had discovered. It was these moments when they were just Ctogether that she secretly enjoyed the most. There was an ease, comfortableness to it; something they both cherished, consciously or not.
As the song came to an end, she got up from the bed, crossed the room, and began to fiddle with her ipod, her back to him.
"So…um, next Tuesday there is this, um…music thing I want to go to. You up for that? It's something different, but it's something I've been really looking forward to."
"Sure," he replied, not even bothering to open his eyes as he stretched out on her bed. "Sounds good to me." Opening one eye though he looked at her cautiously, "It is our kind of music right, not other music."
"You mean not Bren music," she innocently asked over her shoulder.
They stared at each other for a full minute trying to see who would break first- her hazel eyes verses his chocolate brown. When she arched an eyebrow at him he lost it.
"Works every time. Come on. Say it, Ben"
"Yes fine. Bren-Top 40-Dance hit-Techno-remix-shit music. There. I've said it. Happy?"
Mockingly putting a hand onto his shoulder as she rejoined him on the bed, she tried to seriously tell him that yes, she was and this was the first step towards recovery, but instead it came out more as a jumble of laughter.
"Hey if you laugh any harder you're going to fall right off the bed. Now hush you or we won't be able to hear the music and you'll have a bruised ass," he mock sternly said as he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her over him to rest on the unoccupied spot next to him. They settled again, but with his eyes closed, he missed the blush that spread over her face at his close touch.
Soon, the music stopped altogether but neither made a move to get up. Instead they simply lay there, side by side, the right side of her body seamlessly pressed against the left of his. After a while he broke the silence. "What is the music thing on Tuesday? A new band or something?"
"More like…uh…a showcase. A bunch of different people. It'll be good. Trust me."
Throwing an arm around her, he questioned, "When do I ever not trust you Ames?"
She did not answer the question - or more accurately could not -wrapped as she was now in his arm. He made no show of moving it and she was loathe to disturb their current position. They simply lay there together – one enjoying the peace and calm he found with her at times like this and the other listening to the heartbeat of the boy she desperately wanted to stay next to like this forever.
If only fate would be so kind.
I took the title (and the titles of the other chapters I've written) from a song which I included to start off the chapter. Some of these are songs that inspired and others are ones that just seemed to fit. There are some good songs coming up, I can say that at least. Well, hope you all enjoyed that first bit.
Read and Review!
Thanks - Andyouthinkyouknowme
P.S. - brownie points to anyone who recognizes the title of the story!