Literally Illiterate Writing Prompts

7/27/16

Prompt: "You're pretty happy for a dead man."

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     He'd walked up to her, all swagger and charm. His pretty brown eyes and fluffy, yet messy, brown hair looking soft to the touch, yet close to seeming like he'd just rolled out of bed. God, how do you get hair like that? She wanted to touch it, run her fingers through it- but she couldn't. Jackson Wells was nothing if not bad news. He walked around like he owned the entire school- the cliche high school jock, just subtract football and add wrestling. 

     He'd told her about his issue- his math grade falling through the cracks and slipping further and further. He'd cocked his eyebrow, in what she took as a challenging look, asking her if she'd tutor him. (How his ego didn't suffer was beyond her.) She'd accepted, never being one to reject a challenge.

     That was just how they met.

     They fell into a routine after that. They met up on the weekends at the nearest park at noon. She brought snacks Saturday, and he brought them Sunday. Throughout the week, they met up for an hour after school in the local library. 

     "Did you bring the snacks?" his eyes were alight today, his pent-up excitement glittering in his dark brown eyes. He was obviously excited, and if not, a little bit nervous. She dropped the bag of snacks in his lap before plopping onto the checkered blanket spread out in the grass and crossing her legs.

     "It was one time, Jackson!" she huffed, tucking a stray lock of dark brown hair behind her ear. She didn't want to put up with her curly, unmanageable hair, seeing as it was windy out, so she'd stuck with pulling it up into a tight pony-tail. It always found a way to defy the confines, anyways. 

    He grinned mischievously, and she thought he almost looked like a little kid on Christmas opening the bag of snacks. Her thoughts had drifted, but she was snapped back to reality with his loud cry, "You brought Fudge Rounds!" 

    "You said they were your favorite, so I figured..." she trailed off, her face flushing. She remembered way more than he knew. Her green eyes cataloged every little thing he did, though she'd never say that out loud. She sucked in a deep breath. "You brought your textbooks, right?"

     "Actually..." he started. She tilted her head. Why wouldn't he bring his books? They were the one thing they actually needed for the tutoring sessions, seeing as she needed to know what he was working on to actually help him. "Both my teacher and my coach cleared me. I wanted it to be a surprise for you!"

     "Oh..." she was stunned into silence. She looked down, blinking her green eyes rapidly as she sucked in a deep breath. Her routine was wiped by this, she had to scratch things off her calendar now, but she didn't want to. She didn't want this. She moved to stand, "I guess I should go now... you can keep the snacks.." With that, she left, ignoring his strained, confused calls. 

    She ignored him for a week before her restraint broke and she picked up when he called. 

     "Hello?"

     "If I knew you were going to up and walk away like that, I would've let you keep tutoring me," his voice was light and teasing through the phone, but he sounded so... drained.

     "It took me by surprise. You wiped my entire schedule off the tracks... but I've missed you."

     "I've missed you, too, Autumn. Meet me in our spot in twenty; I'll bring the snacks this time!"  With that, the call disconnected and she let the phone fall into her lap as she looked down at it. 

     She got there early, and when she did, the first thing she noticed was the blanket the usually used laid out in the grass, both Jackson and a small, wooden picnic basket just on top of it. She approached slowly, her voice timid as she spoke. "Hi.."

     He seemed to snap out of it then, looking up at her, his thoughtful face switching to a full on grin. "Autumn! You came- I was a little concerned you wouldn't after this week-"

     "I get it. I don't plan on doing that again. I missed you too much," she interrupted, a soft smile covering her face in return. She tilted her head as she sat across from him. "So what's the need for this sudden meeting?"

    "I'll get to that in a minute, but first: food." He gestured to the picnic basket, signaling her to open it. Steadily, she pulled open the wooden basket, reaching in to grab the contents. Her fingers snagged a single, seemingly folded over piece of paper. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she pulled it out. 

     "What's this?" She glanced up at him uncertainly, unsure what angle he was playing at. She really just wanted food. That wasn't all she came for, but it wasn't brushed aside...

     He nodded at her quickly, "Go on, open it up." His face seemed to take on a pink tint as her fingers uncertainly pulled the paper from its folded state. She had to hold back her laugh at the messily scribbled 'will you go out with me: Check yes or no'. She's always been a sucker for childish theatrics.

"I don't have a pen, or a pencil, but I check yes," she laughed, which caused the grin on his face to blossom as he strode over to her. He outstretched his hand to help her up, taking her into a bone crushing hug the moment she had two feet on the ground.

"Would it be too forward of me to kiss you?"

It wasn't.

--

Months flew by, the small bumps in their relationship causing catastrophic repercussions as they tried to navigate through their blossoming relationship. There were times they'd go days without talking before their will would break and they'd talk it out, unable to stay away.

It was when he got sick that she wished it was a fight, not this because this was terrifying. It wasn't a slightly unpleasant cold where he called in sick, or a slight fever accompanied by light nausea- no this was real, the I need to go to the hospital sick. All the signs pointed in the same direction and all she wanted were answers.

The answers she received were not those she wanted. She wanted to hear he was okay and that she had nothing to worry about, but she didn't get that. She got a you were too late, a pat on the back , and a piteous look from the doctor.

Cancer, they'd said. The trending online joke that made you edgy to talk about. The sickness that ripped the life from thousands but was treated like a joke by teenagers and kids who knew nothing. With all the piteous stares and "I'm sorry"s she received, you'd think she was the one with cancer.

But no, it had to be him. The only thing she had to be thankful for was that the happy glint in his brown eyes was still there. His days were numbered, getting lower daily and she couldn't take it. How was he happy? Didn't he know he was dying?

When it hit the he has about three days left mark, and he looked so sick and so pale it hurt, she realized, the happiness in his eyes was still there. He'd gone through so much, hearing day to day that he was going to die, yet the happiness didn't fade. For that, she had nothing left to say except,

"Jackson Wells, you're pretty happy for a dead man."

     

END

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A/N: Hello any possible readers! It seems I've found myself on a Skype chat for help with muse/inspiration! We get daily prompts, so here's this bit. Enjoy heartbreak city! And feedback is always appreciated!