To Say Everything || Short Story

i

A scoff.

"You're so uptight!"

A laugh.

"Relax"

I was far from relaxed. For starters he was driving five miles over speed limit and , I was currently breaking my curfew.

"They're not gonna know, so get excited about it!" Eli was yelling. He was a fiery beast, full of ambition and hot Cheetos. "Even if they did find out, they would know you were with me.."

As if I wanted to be. Family friends are the definition of manipulation. Then again, nothing made me buckle my seatbelt and sit in his truck. Nothing made me come along for the ride. Just a brown haired boy offering french fries.

"C'mon Ava, stop pouting!" He said. Of course, he's still laughing. Eli looks like he has a cold when he's not.

He stops the car in a McDonald's parking lot, and I feel my stomach clench. I couldn't sit here and say I wasn't hungry. It was about 1:30 in the morning, and I felt the worker rolling his eyes before we even stepped inside. We were those people. My mom always said that was the joy of being young though. Sneaking out, and raising hell until your fingers hurt.

Not sure what she meant by the fingers,but I had always been the opposite. More like my dad, calculated and exact. There was always something productive I could be doing. I was surrounded by too many personalities. There was my mom's best friend Jan and her son Elijah(a.k.a. Screaming fire boy). They were the crazy family friends, adventurers, and dreamers. Then, my brother who was in college, and streaming Saints Row on twitch four times a week.

Eli held the door for me, and I rolled my eyes. I'm forgetting why I jumped put of my window. Then I see the flaming red of the menu, and instantly feel myself salivate. Oh yeah.

"Why are you so aggressive hmm?" Eli asks. His tone is halfway between joking and confusing, so I'm not entirely sure if it's genuine.

"Because you kidnapped me"

"Wow. Cold.After all I do for you."He rolled his Hazel eyes back at me. I cross my arms, and he immediately mimics me. I can't help the laugh that crawls up my throat. A psycho, this boy.

He's wearing a red flannel, and a dark coat over. It contrasts terribly with his grey sweats, but I hold my tongue. I'm wearing leggings and a bright pink sweater. Not my style, but 1:30 is 1:30. I watch as he scratches his chin, staring at the menu.

Eli orders, fry's and ice cream. Typical teen.

I order the same.

We sit in the tall, spinning chairs. The McDonalds is completely empty, and void of all noise—Well, except for the sound of Eli twisting in his chair. Some people's kids.

"So..." He begins. I pause on my scraping of ice cream off the sides of my cup to meet his eyes. His moles are becoming more prominent from winter. It was spring now, but the recent lack of sunlight has made him pale.

"You're so annoying.."

I laugh. He always says that when he tries to ask me anything. "Why is that?"

"I never know what you're thinking.." he chews a fry, "And I've known you my whole life so..."

I only shrug in response. He's picking at insecurities, but of course not on purpose. No one ever does that on purpose. His eyes await a response, and I blink my brown ones back.

"Case in point.."

I gasp, "I didn't even say anything!"

he laughs all the same, and I scoop a bite of ice cream into my mouth. I got Vanilla, he got chocolate.

"You said everything, you just don't know it"

I search his eyes. His tone is different--Dare I say, calm, gentle, or sure. His ears are slightly pink at the very top, and he's smiling at his ice cream; avoiding me all of sudden.

"You're staring.." he laughs. He's always laughing, I swear he does it in his sleep.

"You're being weird."

Silence.

We both finish our respective snacks, and Eli stands first, cracking his spine in an epic twist. I cringe appropriately feeling my skin prickle. Eli is handsomely annoying, but the sound of a spine rippling will always get to me.

"Let's go before your dad kills me..."

"You say that like he dislikes you..." I say.

"He could..."

"He doesn't..."

Eli smooshes my curls as we leave, and then cries that I smacked his hand too hard. Natural hair is an art form, and the fact that he even pretended to mess with it is unforgivable. He jutts his lip out. He is a baby trapped in a nineteen year old's body.

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a/n

Hello. This story is just for fun, so sorry if I miss some editing stuff. My tense might be off, there's probably typos, and the story is probably gonna feel incomplete because it's just a fun short story. I'm basically just using this story as an excuse to get back into writing, and to hopefully provide something short, sweet, and fun in the midst of these crazy times. Feel free to leave feedback, and tell me what you think as I put updates out. I hope you enjoy, and find some comfort ahead.

Story type: Short story

Theme: Relationships

Length: 5 chapters

Genre: New Adult fiction/Humor/contemporary.