Warped Boards

This is a first draft of a story I had written last year. I made some modifications, but I didn't like them, so I'm back at square one. I know it needs dialogue but I'm ind of stuck in that regard...

 

Let’s stand on the pillars and watch the wave’s crash around us.  That was always my favorite part.  Standing on the tiny logs that poke out of the sand, we try not to slip off; you with your clunky brown skate shoes and me with my purple Converse. The sight of us in this delicate balancing act sends us into a laughter, which implies that we are in love.  The ocean surrounds us and for a moment we are free of this land that binds us.  You are so much taller than I am so you always help me down so I don’t fall and get my butt wet. 

 

The sun is starting to set and you’re taking pictures of me as I walk on the sand.  I hate my picture being taken, but you continue to snap away, catching my frizzy brown hair flying with the wind or a grain of sand sneaking behind my glasses and into my eye.  You laugh at me like you always do when I make my stupid face as I curse the wind and the sand.  The sky is a deep red now with purple edges and my glasses are reflecting the light.  You snap another photo then gaze into my brown eyes.  Your hand reaches out from behind the camera and gently grazes my cheek.  I lean my head to the side to prolong this simple gesture.

 

We stumble back to the boardwalk but since its October what’s the rush?  No one is here so the warped boards are speaking solely to us. They creak with every step and moan of the summers passing.  None of the shops are open but the arcade still is. Now, the owner sits alone as we enter to play the game we always play, air hockey.  You win like always, but at least you let me pretend like I had a chance.  We walk out, with the prized fish in my hand, and you wrap your arm around me.

You squeeze me a little tighter then let me go feeling somewhat guilty for the emotions that pulse through you now.  I look at you and your brown hair swishes off to one side.  Your hair always looked best like this, blowing in the wind without care.  I only wish you could feel that way too.  Free of any restraints and free from the pain that envelops you. 

You walk closer to me, nudging me into the railing and I almost trip on a broken board.  I smile because I know it is all in fun.  These are the nights that I wish you were mine.  These nights where we stroll under the boardwalk lights and pretend that we own it all, from the miniature golf course with the pirate ship, to the movie theater where you always park your car.  These places are ours and no one will ever be able to take them away.

We get into your beat up red car and drive back to your house.  We listen to Bright Eyes and watch the lights change from red to green and yellow.  Driving over the bridge, the familiar sound fills the car and I close my eyes so I can feel it all over.  You just look at me, and crack a smile.  You always thought I was weird. 

We get to your house and your mom welcomes us.  So do your two cats who both love me, unlike you.  We go into your room to watch the Discovery Channel or Cartoon Network or some other movie I’ve never seen.   I am between your body and the wall, and I have never been more comfortable.  My head is on your chest, that spot which was almost made for me, as I start to doze off to the sound of Mythbusters.  Your arm is wrapped around me involuntarily and you don’t seem to mind this time.  You move my hair out from in front of my face as I drift off into unconsciousness.  You lie still, making sure not to wake me from my slumber.

I think to myself how can this be happening?  She’s my best friend, your girlfriend, yet you spend all your time besides me.  You made her a pillow with a heart on it for your anniversary, but I use your ribs, which holds yours as mine. 

I wake to find you sitting at the edge of the bed. You tell me it’s late and you should be bringing me back.  I wave to your mom, who is on the phone in the kitchen and move the cats out from in front of the door.  I walk out ahead of you and don’t look back.

The drive is awkward and silent and seems to go on forever.  We get to campus and I hug you and say I’ll call then, step out onto the damp pavement.  My roommate is out drinking already so the room is quiet.  I hang my coat and put the stuffed fish on my bed as I wrap myself in my quilt. 

Reviews

[yinseriv]

Megan for a draft this isn't bad work at all. It deserves a revisit because it has the making of a sweet short story. The beginning is a little confusing and I will add a note of something you might consider. The story reads great from the scene at the boardwalk to the end.

V5C