Short Stories (bxb)

Twenty-Four Hours Pt.3: Second First Impressions

Six years later

It was hot as hell.

Ethan would rather be anywhere else, really. Anywhere inside. Or maybe outside in a pool, or at the beach, or anywhere he wouldn't be simply sitting out in the open, defenseless against the sun's attack.

But he'd promised Yoshi that they'd go to the park today. And even though Yoshi probably had no idea what that meant, Ethan felt guilty going back on his word.

So there he was, stuck on a park bench in the midst of California summer. It wasn't even a shaded park bench. No, all of those were occupied with old people and little kids, leaving Ethan on a hot bench with no trees to provide him with any form of shade while Yoshi had the time of his life, running around with other big dogs and occasionally stepping on the poor small ones that he was too occupied to notice.

Yoshi was two in human years, which meant he was a teen in dog years, and it showed. The moment they got to the park, he ditched Ethan to go hang out with his cool dog friends, only coming back when he was thirsty. Teenagers could be such brats.

Ethan, alone at the park and not in the mood to strike up a conversation with one of the old ladies hogging the shaded chairs, had no choice but to sit with his chin in his hands and think. Which would've been totally fine, if he didn't end up thinking about Katie.

Katie and her awesome blue hair, Katie and her funny jokes, Katie and her I-don't-care-what-others-think style. Katie and that bartender Ethan had walked in on her playing tongue-tag with in her living room, just a week before their two-year anniversary.

That was two months ago. It was kind of hard to forget two years of dating—not to mention four years of friendship—after two months.

Ethan probably would have drowned in his heart-sick thoughts if Yoshi hadn't done that uncanny thing dogs do, sensing Ethan's distress from yards away and bounding over to give his person some lovin'.

     "Oh, now you wanna talk to me," Ethan said as the golden retriever put furry paws on his lap and leaned up to lick his chin. His smile gave him away, though, because it's pretty hard to play mad when you're being attacked by seventy-five pounds of affection.

     Just as quickly as Yoshi had shown up, he ran off. Ethan sighed to himself, but then his dog reappeared with a bright purple ball in his mouth, wagging his tail expectantly.

     "I don't think that's yours, big guy," Ethan laughed, scratching behind Yoshi's ears. Yoshi stubbornly placed his head in Ethan's lap, and his owner quickly gave in, taking the ball from his mouth and standing up.

A classic game of fetch ensued, and all was well until Ethan threw the ball at the wrong moment, sending Yoshi racing after it with nothing else in his sight. He raced straight into some unsuspecting college kid who was too busy spacing out to move out of the way in time.

Ethan sucked in a breath, pressing his fist against his mouth and muttering the word shit under his breath as the guy went down. Yoshi continued as if nothing had happened, jumping over his victim and continuing on his quest for the ball.

Ethan jogged over to do some much needed damage control and extended a hand to the poor boy, who was wiping grass from his cheek. He took Ethan's hand and stood, brushing dirt off of his jeans.