Over the Wall: A Collection of Short Stories (NaNoWriMo 2014)

Day 1: On a Bench in the Rain

Note: This short story has now been turned into it's own story called Broken Record. So if you like this story go check it out :)

Because of him, history had repeated itself.

How could he be so stupid? He knew what he was supposed to do. He knew he had to fix this, that he had to make last time better. She looked so hurt. Well of course she was hurt, he thought to himself. Her douche boyfriend had cheated on her! Again!

It had all started a couple weeks ago. She, his friend, Samantha, Sam, had run up to him with a grin almost completely taking over her face. It had been a long time since he had seen that smile. One month, twelve days, and ten hours since he’d seen that smile. It was the night of the prom, the senior prom, their last prom, and she’d spent it crying. It had been awful. Her mascara had run all over her face and onto his suit jacket. Her lipstick had smudged just slightly onto her right cheek, no on her left, it was on his right. He had held her as the music played almost softly inside the country club ballroom. He knew it wasn’t actually playing softly but he remembered it that way. He had held her until she couldn’t cry anymore and he had put his damp jacket over his shoulders and walked her to his parents car. His date could find a ride home.

They had taken the long way to her house through the quiet streets. The streetlights were too bright and made her squint. He stopped at a gas station, it was no dirtier than any other gas station and by no means extraordinary, to buy her a bottle of water and some Advil for her headache. Maybe the headache wasn’t solved by a pill, maybe it needed something much more, but he couldn’t give it to her so he settled for what he could buy with the five dollars he miraculously had in his pocket. He walked over to her side and tapped on her window to give her the items. When she took them he grabbed her wrist, not tightly but she still flinched, and whispered,

“You’ll be okay.” It was not a question.

He wasn’t sure if she really heard what he said but she nodded and rolled up the window, leaving him standing there, closed off as always. He stood there for three seconds — one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi — then walked around the back of the car to his side, got in, started the car, and pulled back out onto the street. They didn’t say anything until they pulled up outside her house.

Even that was not much of a conversation. A sentence really.

She unbuckled and so did he. She looked at him and he kept his gaze straight ahead. She looked straight ahead as he looked at her. She took off his jacket and wordlessly put it on the console between them. He turned suddenly and put his hand on hers before she could pull it away. She looked at him and they made eye contact for the first time since she began crying. They stared at each other for a few seconds, he didn’t keep track, until she broke it by turning to open her door. Like she had broken a spell he flew out of his side and around the front of the car to open it for her. She deserved to have her door opened for her.

He opened the door and she got out as gracefully as a princess. Even with the mussed make up she still looked beautiful, achingly beautiful. She stood up straight in front of him, probably for the first time that night. She looked at him in an almost nervous way. He resisted the urge to laugh. He had known her since the second day of kindergarten, he had been sick the first day, which would represent the rest of his high school career, and yet she was nervous. She had no reason to be nervous. Not around him. She had to know by now he did not judge her, in exchange for her never judging him. She had to.

She looked at him for a while longer before walking up the driveway to her door, where a wreath of pretty spring flowers hung. They were probably fake, like everything else in that house, except her. Sam was halfway up the driveway before he called out her name.