Tale's Of A Boy-ish Girl

Chapter 10

I am really for the delay! Writer's Block hit my so hard! Here's chapter 10 after 4 years of waiting lol soz guys 😜

Chapter 10

"Did Pickle die?" I ask, slowing my pace.

"It's a long story, would you care to sit down with me?" He says, placing his hand on the small of my back lightly while guiding me to the bench.

I needed to know what actually happened, and I wasn't going to let my stubborn self stop me. Patience Sky, I know you haven't forgiven him for his ghastly sin but surely, death was a topic that deserved respect.

We sit down on the wooden bench silently for some time. I kept fumbling with the zipper of my sweater, counting to 10, knowing that within a few seconds that my patience would run out.

"You have to promise me that you will listen to the whole story, even if you get angry." He says in one breath.

I bite my inner cheek, knowing that I couldn't possibly keep that promise. "Okay, just got on with it." I say while yawning.

He kept his eyes on the field while turning to face me directly.

"Pickle isn't dead."

"What?!" I gasp

"I'm Pickle." He said, it was almost a whisper. He tore his eyes away from the field and stared at me directly.

It took me a few seconds to register what he said, and as soon as the engines did their work. I was up in a millisecond.

"Wait!" He grabbed my wrist and pulled me down back to the bench. "You promised," He pleaded.

"You lied." I said venomously.

"At least let me finish what I had to say."

"Something happened to me on that night" He said, his eyes narrowing while deep in thought.

"What happened?" I asked, feeling his grip on my wrist wane.

He took a deep breath and fixed his gaze back towards the empty field. The slow breeze vanished and was replaced by stillness.

"That night when I got back from prom, we had guests over. The moment I stepped through the threshold of our living room I knew something was off. One look at my parents confirmed my suspicions. The lady sitting on my dads favourite arm chair was my biological mother." He said, sitting back on the bench while crossing his arms over his chest.

I looked at him with wide eyes yet not daring to utter a word.

"I was adopted," I was caught by surprise when I saw his usual guarded face devoid of any emotion, held a tinge of vulnerability.

"My mother took me to a foster home because she couldn't provide for my sister and I. My father was enlisted in the army and my mother was just starting her acting career. She promised she would bring me back home once she was financially stable.
She spent years trying to find me because my foster friends had changed my name and got rid of all the paperwork."

"That's really sad to hear and I'm really sorry but that doesn't explain why you're acting like a total nincompoop to me."

"Oh stop acting like you're such an angel, you clearly remember what you did to me on that night." He said menacingly.

"That's the thing, I don't remember at all!" I yell, standing up to look him in the eye. Whatever human emotion which was displayed in his eyes were probably the effects of not drinking a pack of Mountain Dew in 5 hours. Pickel or whatever his name was, stood up to look down at me using the height difference to his advantage.

"Two can play at this game." He said,scowling at me.

"What game are you talking about?" I say cluelessly.

"Fine, if you're going to act like nothing happened, I will too," He said raising his voice while forming fists underneath his hoodie pockets.
"I knew I shouldn't have explained myself to you, you're just as childish as you were five years ago."

"AND YOU'RE JUST AS PICKLY AS YOU WERE FIVE YEARS AGO!" I exclaimed, poking him hardly on his chest.

His eyes widened and absentmindedly rubbed the spot on his chest. The surprise that was written all over his face was quickly replaced with rage.

"This is the last time that I will ever talk to you." He slowly said.

"Fine!" I said stomping my foot. I felt something underneath my foot, looking down I regretted it instantly.

Veins were bulging out of Pick.. Ryan's neck. His pale face turned into a deep shade of red.

"My foot." He said while biting down on his lip angrily.

"Oops?" I said while giving him my most charming smile.

"I knew you would be very troublesome but—
My foot was still pressing down on his with the same pressure when he swiftly he slipped it out.

"Sometimes I wonder if you're just prone to hurting others of if you actually enjoy under that façade" He said, making every word clear.

Maybe it wasn't the words that just came out of his mouth. Maybe it was the feeling of knowing you did something wrong but not knowing what it was. Maybe it was this sorrowful feeling that seemed to blend with the gloomy scenery that seemed to surround me while I unconsciously forgot that the cameras where recording every single thing. Alas! I found the answer to all these maybe's; all these depressing feeling were rooted to one problem.

I haven't had a can of Mountain dew in ages man!