Story

Made a little attempt at some original fiction. It turned out rather pathetic & bittersweet, but nevertheless, I'd like your input.


"Forgetting the key was stupid, even though it's me talking."
New Year's Eve, 11.30 PM. A group of teenagers are clambering over a park's fence. The one who just scowled those words was small, hunched over and nervous. A girl. But you could tell that easily: she wore baggy clothes, had a deep androgynous voice and she wore a hat hiding all the hair she possibly could have had.
"Stop stressing out. No police is going to come check my uncle private garden on New Year's Eve."
"I'm not stressing out. Did you ask your uncle, Tom?" The boy, was already climbing, gave an eyeroll. "Like he'd notice. Relax, it's just the best place to watch the city fireworks."
He helped another girl over the fence and jumped to the other side. Only two persons where still stuck before the gate: the grumpy girl and a giant of a guy, who hadn't said a word since the start of the expedition. He stood there looking at her while smoking a cigarette. And smirked: "I guess you need a hand?" She sighed. "Yes, please, Eric."
He grabbed her and practically threw her over. He then got over himself, surprisingly nimbly for a man that size.
"I always wondered how it was possible to have so much grace and grease about you at the same time." She was sent a dead glare while he went after the others.

"Hey guys. They're gonna begin in about three minutes, we're gonna go to the hill," Tom said.
"I'm staying here."
"I'll keep her company," Eric said. He did look a bit out of breath.
"All right. You know where to find us." And they left the two behind.

"They didn't do much to keep us, did they."
"As if it's that much fun. All they're gonna do it drink themselves into a stupor."
"I bet it's because we're sad drunks."
"Perhaps."
They both sat down on bench next to the path. The fireworks had started, and they watched the glittering colours for a while. But two tree were in the way.
"We should have joined them. You see nothing from here, it's crap."
The guy barked a laugh. "Cigarette?"
"You know I don't like it. It stinks and tastes like shit."
"I know you do, but it would have suited the moment, don't you think?"
The bangs intensified, and they could hear their friends cheer from afar. Then, everything went silent.
"Guess that was the finale." Eric blew two smoke rings out, a trick he loved to perform, but in the ugly electric streetlights, the act lost a lot of its decorum.
"Give me that cig." She breathed in once, and ended up in a coughing fit.
"Ugh. My kingdom for a glass of water."
"I take it you still hate the stuff."
"Damn right I do. Good for me, too. You should power down."
"Yeah, I should. Happy New Year."
"Heartily returned. Any good resolutions?" She teased.
"You first."
"Tell the truth. It's not that I lie, it's that I keep it to myself."
"Very noble."
"And you?"
"Stop smoking."
"Liar."
"As if you've ever kept your New Year resolutions."
"I'll start with you, if you don't believe me."
"Are you keeping something from me, miss?" He said it in a mock-outraged tone.
"Yeah. Promise you'll hear me out without running or laughing?" Suddenly, she seemed nervous.
"You're scaring me. You're not gonna say 'Luke, I am your father", are you?"
"Sadly, it's not that good."
"Good. Come on, you'll tell me while we join the others, they're gonna miss us.
"Hardly. They'll all be sharing their New Year snogs."
"Probably. But I'm cold, and you, me, out there, alone? People gonna talk!" he said, mock-hysteric. She didn't laugh. She was biting her underlip.
"Oh-oh... You little... You want them to talk!"

It was all in good fun. To him, it was always all in good fun. But when he stopped trying to tickle her, he saw her face. It was far past good fun. He turned serious.

"Eric?"
"Present." There was an edge to his voice.
"I think I..."
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't say it. Don't do this."
"Eric, I think I love you."
The twig he'd been clutching snapped. She winced at the sound.
"I'm sorry."
"For what? Loving me? It's not like it'll change something. You were my friend, and now I'm not going to be able to do anything with you without having that giant pink elephant standing in the room."
"You don't love me."
"I think I was... clear. You're a friend, and I don't see you under another angle. Sorry." The bitterness was definitely there now, and he lighted another cigarette.
"I'd take it back, if I could. You know I would."
"Life doesn't work that way."
"You do shit, you repair shit, you don't take it back. Tell me about it."
"Do you love someone."
"I love plenty of someones."
"Does that particular someone have a name?"
"Valerie."
She stopped and looked him in the eye.
"Kidding, right? The one who has her tongue down Tom's throat right now?"
"The very same."
"You're screwed."
"So are you. It's a lousy, cruel joke but it's true."

They both went silent and stared for a while. Everywhere but at each other.

"Eric?"
"Alive and kicking."
"You don't think that we could, like, try..."
"No."
"Thought so. I'm pretty sure, now, that I love you." She gave him a sad, bitter smile. It was either that or burst out crying.
"Why?"
"It hurts like hell."

She bent down and kissed him, not on the lips, but not exactly on the cheek, either. Then she turned and walked away.
Eric watched her disappear and sighed. Fuck-fuck-fucked up world. He crushed out his cigarette under his boot.

And started. It was a howl. It was a laugh. It might even have been a sob, and it rang through the night.
Her voice, only slightly wobbly. You had to admire the girl's control.
"Eric? I... I need help for the gate."

He almost broke right there. But all he did was take a deep breath: "Coming."



 Please, please, pretty please, leave some criticism.