A Simple Response: It wasn’t so hard
*~This story is a continuation of: “A Simple Request: It shouldn’t be this hard!” ~*
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
…She opened her eyes and pulled out her phone. It was not a message to tell her that it was time to depart.
It was from him.
He must have read it.
He knows. Was this his response?
Her heart raced in anticipation.
Her breath quickened just a bit.
She opened the message.
“I read it,” the message began, “I read it and…”
She tensed as time seemed to stop.
“I read it and I won’t give you an answer until tomorrow.”
No.
That’s not—
This isn’t supposed to happen…
What did she do wrong?
He didn’t like it; yes that’s it. There’s no other reason.
He didn’t like it and he needed time to formulate a way to turn her down.
She felt all the energy drain from her body; everything was in slow motion for her. Her bag seemed much heavier. Her fatigue seemed more unbearable. She could feel herself becoming sick. Another one of her friends informed her that her ride had arrived, but the words were muffled as her mind was still in a fog.
The rest of the day was nonexistent; a mechanical routine:
Arrive home.
An automated conversation.
Homework.
Eat.
More prerecorded phrases.
Shower.
Bed.
No dreams. No dreams of getting dressed for the night and waiting for him. No dreams of holding hands with him. No dreams of dancing the night away with him. No dreams of cuddling in the chilly night air with him. Nothing. There was nothing to dream about; only a cold darkness shrouded her consciousness.
*~*~*~*~*~*
This day, she was drained both mentally and physically. The events of the day before had not worn off and the neglect she showed her body seemed to be catching up to her.
She tried to catch a few moments of sleep during the day, but every time she tried, she could only see that message.
It irritated her beyond belief.
She tried to keep her cheerful mask on, but it cracked quite frequently. Her smile seemed forced. Her eyes lost its charismatic sparkle. Her voice betrayed her; the sound more sullen than it should have been for such a beautiful day.
What’s wrong with her?” said a voice she didn’t care to try to identify.
“Just leave her alone. She looks grumpy today.”
What can possibly make the day worse?
Lumbering down the stairs at the end of the day made her feel more sour. Everyone was giggling and smiling too much to match her mood.
“Hey, hey, hey!” an over energetic underclassman bounced toward her, “I have a story to tell you.”
She half listened to the younger’s story. In actuality should care less about something that had to do with an ipad and how it assaulted her face.
She had other things on her mind that outweighed a minor bruise on her friend’s lip.
She just wanted to go home and end this awful day.
She heard various squeals coming from behind her.
Curious, she tried to turn to indentify the source, but the tenacious underclassman kept her in place. She soon shrugged it off; squealing was a typical occurrence in this all-girls high school. It was probably nothing important.
An arm wrapped around her shoulder.
She internally fumed. She was not in the mood for hugs or showing any affection.
What part of ‘wanting to go home’ did people not understand?
“Now that’s quite the tale, now isn’t it?” the owner of the arm chimed cheerfully.
Wait…that voice…
That voice was definitely NOT female.
She spun around, all fatigue dissipated from her features and eyes wide in astonishment.
It was him.
He stood before her, adorning his signature grin, “Surprise!” he added as people gathered around them giggling knowingly.
They planned this.
They knew this was going to happen.
Still in a stupor, he gathered her belongings; she hadn’t noticed she discarded them.
“C’mon. Let’s get going. You’ll be riding with me this afternoon.”
Still unable to formulate words she nodded and allowed him to lead her away.
*~*~*~*~*~*~
After loading her things securely, and after making sure they were free from any prying eyes or perked ears, he lightly pressed his forehead against hers.
“Oh and I almost forgot. I read it…and I loved it…”
She could feel her face warming as she dared to look him in the eyes.
Here it comes.
His final answer.
“…of course I’ll go to Christmas Formal with you.”
KeTaira Phillips, Achona’s Creative Media Editor, greets the room with a bright smile and charisma to spare. In her free time she’s normally doodling,...