Snippets

Short Story-Fierce

Spindly fingers tapped twice on my shoulder. "Ali, uh, can I speak to you real quick?"

An anxious look overtook Luke's face as his fingerless gloves knotted and undid themselves, his fingers hidden inside.

"Yeah?" I turned to my friends to telepathically ask them to excuse me, only to receive a not-so-discreet shake of the head, a glare, and a blank face.

"Please?" Luke pleaded.

My features turned into one of disappointment as I subtly glared at the girls.

If they don't approve of Luke and I, it's their problem.

I got up, half eaten chicken salami sandwich in hand, and followed the boy in front of me.

Past the hoards if people, past the tables, past the lockers, straight to the barely there, frozen swing set. Him on the right swing, and me on the left.

The quiet enveloped us, much like the cold, and pulled a blanket of awkward over us.

"So . . ." The silence was too much to bear.

"I, um, I just wanted to talk," Luke started, failing to be casual.

"Relax. You're making me nervous."

His coat clad shoulders loosened up a bit as he took a deep, shaking breath.

"I'm sorry." He blurted.

"What?" I looked over at my boyfriend to see a tear slip down his cheek.

My mouth parted slightly, "What are you sorry for?"

"I'm so, so sorry Ali-" A sob escaped his mouth, followed by more tears.

"Luke . . . What happened?" I asked in a cautious tone.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry , I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so, damn sorry!" He chanted the same phrase over and over again, wrapping his stick thin arms around himself.

I got up and slowly walked over to the other swing, careful not to trip over the snow. I crouched down in front of him and cupped his face in my freezing fingers.

"Luke look at me," I demanded his roaming eyes to focus on mine.

A shake of the head concluded in me asking him yet again, "Look at me, Luke,"
Another shake of the head.

"Lukas Kieran Evans, look at me!" Brute force was the only way he would listen to me.

His eyes slowly traveled to mine, before a rainstorm fell from his glistening, brown eyes.

"I'm so sorry," He whispered once more.

"Stop apologising," I whispered back, "And what're you sorry for?"

Another wave of silence passed through us before he answered.

"I lied," he whispered, "I went against you Ali, and I'm so sorry."

When was he going to stop apologising?

"I just need you to know that I didn't mean it," he continued, "and I was just drunk. I-I didn't know what I was doing and I was drunk and I didn't mean it and," his eyes were searching the floor frantically, as if the answer to all his problems lay hidden in the masses of cold, white mush on the floor, "God, I'm so sorry."

I removed my hands from his face and stood up again, "What are you on about?" I wasn't going to jump to any conclusions. I don't want to be that person; the one that always assumes the worst and makes up their own story before they heard from both sides.

"I . . . Before I tell you, you have to believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you. Or anyone for that matter. I just-I just needed some time before I told you," The tears were long gone, but the insecurity was still there, clear as daylight.

"Okay?" I had no clue where this was going.

"Ali, I still love you, just remember that Ok?" He needed my reassurance, I could tell by the way his eyes searched my face, by the way he inched forward, by the way he licked his dry, snow ridden lips.

"Yeah, I know," My voice held enough certainty for him to relax a bit.

Luke took another deep breath before he answered all the questions that were playing an intense game of tag in my head.

"Ali . . . donuts." His eyes were dead focused on mine, his voice barely a whisper. A look of relief, guilt and caution brewed upon his face.

I stood up and took two steps backwards, almost tripping on a fallen branch.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. You're doing great Ali, you're doing great.

My mind cleared as I repeated his words in my head.

Donuts. Donuts. DONUTS!

I took two steps forward and inched in towards his horror filled face.

"Donuts?" I needed to be sure. I needed to know the exact truth.

A feeble nod caused his nose to brush against mine.

"You ate my bloody donuts?" I spat through clenched teeth.

Another feeble nod overtook his head.

"Again?"

This time he let out a small whimper, followed by, "Please don't take away my kissing privileges."

This little prick thinks he's going to get away with only no kissing privileges this time.

"Oh I'll take away more than just your kissing privileges," my face was still a few centimetres away from his, if not closer, "I'll take away your touching privileges, and your pet name privileges as well," I threatened with a in evil glint in my eyes.

"Please no, I just got them back!" He complained.

"Too late, they're already gone," I loved this, "for 2 weeks," I added in for good measure.

With that, I turned on my heels, and marched back to my friends with my head held and my shoulders squared.

No one, and I mean no one touches my donuts.