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thelibraryofflowers · 1 year

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The Short Book of Mortals - 2.5

Not Alone, After All [part 3]

pov: Malcom Pereira

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"Oh." Alex rolls back his shoulders and lets his gaze shift to the floor, seeming to actually consider the question. Still, I probably shouldn't have expected more than the "I don't know" that I get. Trying to make Alex Marachiato stop feeling sorry for himself really does take a toll. Especially when your brain drifts to all those crystal-clear memories of him smiling and laughing and perfectly at ease, way more comfortable than he is now, curled in and ashamed of himself. "It's just…" he begins, and the impatient part of my brain screams, Jackpot! "He's so much better than me, you know? More charismatic, more sociable, more involved…" Alex's voice trails off, and the furrow in his brow deepens. "Did you just call Corry Keens sociable?" I ask, deciding to go with jokes as my tactic. Alex looks up at me, at the very least curious. "Dude… doesn't he kind of hate humanity?" And Alex cracks a smile. A stupid, dorky, (I think, half-hysterically) beautiful smile. "I guess he does." I turn back to where Corry and Jason are still playing as Tommy's wingmen, which seems to be going well if you don't pay attention to the fact that Tommy still looks relatively clueless about the fact that Melita Anderson is very clearly trying to get in his pants. "And doesn't he look a little tired?" Corry doesn't, really. He looks like he's doing relatively fine. But I highly doubt that Alex, in his current state, is going to discount me saying that his boyfriend needs somebody to lean on. And, because all of my plans are flawless and I am amazing, it works. "I guess he does," Alex says again, though this time with more focus, seemingly distracted by the event of staring at Corry with such intensity that if this was a cartoon, he'd have heart eyes too big for his head. To me, he asks, "Do you think I should go over there?" "Obviously, man," I reply, giving him a supportive pat on the back (read: a shove that might've been a bit harder than I intended) in Corry's direction. Jason notices him first, before he's slung his arm around Corry's shoulders so sloppily that I finally realize he's drunk, and begins back in my direction. "Where is it?" I ask, leaning back against our column. "Where's what?" Jason asks, feigning confusion as he pulls a flask from his inside pocket. "Please, Malc. I'm not an idiot." "I know," I reply, leaning over and taking it just as he goes to pour more vodka into his own half-empty solo cup. "But so am I. Which is why this isn't happening." I hold the flask out just far enough so the parent chaperone walking by doesn't even have to stop to grab it, meaning she didn't see our faces, meaning we go another day without being given detention for sneaking alcohol into a school dance. Again. "You know that was stolen, right?" Jason asks, watching as Mrs. Herrera marches towards the nearest trash can. "Of course I do." I lean closer, resting my arm around his shoulders and turning him to join me in watching as the last of the vodka is dumped out. (If you're wondering where, look no further than Mrs. Herrera's need for an Uber home.) "After all, Laurier, I do know you." He turns to me, raising an eyebrow. "That rhymed." "Yeah," I reply, feeling the grin growing on my face. "And I know you hate rhyming, too." He tries to bite back his smile, but it doesn't really work. I never fail to make him laugh. "You're smiling," I tell him, reaching up to jab his cheek with my index finger. Are we close? Yeah. Currently physically closer than regular best friends? Yeah. But you know what? That doesn't matter. He's not my best friend. Someday I'm going to get to tell people that.

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#tsbom #writing #realisticfiction #lgbtq fiction

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rockycuzzo-blog · 2 years

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2. Last Airlift: A Vietnamese Orphan’s Rescue from War by Marsha Skyrpuch

If you love history, or like to read about true life stories, you’re going to love this book.

This is Tuyet. She is 8 years old, and she is an orphan. She knows nothing outside the walls of her orphanage in the Vietnamese city of Saigon (now the city of Ho Chi Minh), and she has never looked up to see the sky over her head. (Map showing how far Saigon is from United States on Powerpoint) Though Tuyet suffers from polio, a disease that makes it hard for her to walk, she helps around the orphanage as much as she can, playing with toddlers and putting babies to sleep. The sounds of war raging around her are nothing new.

Tuyet’s real-life adventure truly starts on April 11th, 1975, when American soldiers whisk her and 56 other orphans away from the only home they have ever known to live a new life in Canada. A life far away from the Vietnam War and all of its suffering. But Tuyet’s troubles are only just beginning. What will happen to her in this new land? Will she be all alone in a strange place? Who would want an older girl with a limp when they could have a perfectly healthy baby? Will she ever find a place that feels like home?

8,651 Miles from Toronto to Ho Chi Minh

8,748 Miles from Chicago to Ho Chi Minh

#2013 #realisticfiction #grade3

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enchantingranchpurseoperator · 3 years

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#youngadult #fiction #romance #realisticfiction #teen #comingofage #love #drama #novel #contemporary #bookstagram #book #bookclubmovie #bookshelf #bookclubgirls #booklover #booksmartmovie #books #bookmarks #booksbooksbooks #bookblog #booklife #bookclubgirls #bookaddict #bookstagramespaña #bookblog (at Karachi, Pakistan) https://www.instagram.com/p/CO2kV9KhZQO/?igshid=16dhjco2upldi

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corvussempervirens · 3 years

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Chapter 16: 2009

“don’t worry, i’m with lynn and tricia. have a good night, i’ll see you tomorrow babe” I text him. God he’s fucking clingy. Who cares if he just graduated and I’m only about to be a junior? That doesn’t mean he’s it for me. I just turned sixteen, after all. And quite honestly, I’m already so fed up with what I’ve seen in this world so far.

I have been cutting myself for the last couple of years, like a fucking idiot. Some weeks more than others, sometimes in obvious places because i’m sick and like to watch the way people react to the scars. They know exactly what those wounds mean, but most people just turn away. It’s pretty brutal, honestly, how we can all just go through this life acting like looking away makes terrible things disappear. Again - i’m fucking sick of it all.

That’s why I decided to go out with Lynn and Tricia tonight. They understand the rage against this bullshit system: after school activities, pep rallies, and standardized tests. They actually see the faults for what they are. Plus, they know how to have a good time. So that’s what we were on our way to do tonight - to have a damn good time. Tricia met some guy online and they had met up to smoke before, so we know it was going to chill. Nothing to worry about.

Pot was never really a thing I saw myself doing, but now that sophomore year is over, I’m a full blown stoner. This summer, Lynn, Tricia, and I have spent a lot of time finding different places in the hills to smoke weed. Lynn has long beautiful blonde hair that straight up glows in the summer sun. She is pale white and sometimes, when I’m super baked, I imagine that I’m being driven around by an angel. Tricia has short brown hair and a body that she knows how to use. She is the one constantly pushing me over the edge. I’m awkward. Long hair, long legs, absolutely uncomfortable in my own skin. But they just brought me under their wing, a year older than me, and showed me the ropes toward becoming a different person, a new Lucy.

When I met Tricia in class last year, I was tired of Sunday school, soccer practice, and pretending like this world isn’t a piece of shit. So we started hanging out, and I was glad to leave it all behind. All my friends judged the hell out of me last year, but it’s been months now and I don’t really care anymore.

Tonight is the first time I am going out to a party that isn’t full of my boyfriends senior friends. Dan is great, and he treats me like a queen, but he thinks I walk on water. I’m not the person that he thinks I am. Parties are starting to get a little dull with him there; appearing suddenly when I’m dancing and other guys start to notice, or reminding me not to smoke too many cigarettes, and to drink water. it’s fucking obnoxious. He doesn’t understand the self hatred and anger that I’m harboring. He can’t see how I’m closer to losing it each day.

Tonight is going to be different. I can do whatever the fuck I want, and I know that Lynn and Tricia won’t say shit to anyone because that’s just the kind of girls we are.

Ultimately, I know exactly what I’m here for: to get fucked. Dan and I have been together for almost two years, and we’ve fooled around, but I haven’t had sex with him yet. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because he’s too perfect for me and I’m worried he’ll get too attached. Either way, it was time for me to get laid.

Before I know it, I’m being led into a mobile home by a few guys I don’t recognize. Doesn’t seem like a great party, but whatever. Inside, there’s barely any furniture and everything has a stench of smoke and dirt to it. I look around and notice a tall dark haired guy sulking in the corner of the kitchen.

“’Sup, Paul!” some guy in a red t-shirt and Dickies says to the tall guy.

“’Sup” he says back, taking cigarettes out of his pocket. Marlboro 27′s. Good taste. He scans past the Dickies guy and looks at Lynn and Tricia. Lynn nods her head and waves, playing it cool like always. Tricia walks up to Paul and hugs him, thanking him for letting us be there. I don’t say anything because most guys stop at Lynn and Tricia, and I usually find my way to the booze asap.

One of the other guys, in a black v-neck and black pants, starts playing music. Sounds like some random hip hop artist I don’t recognize, but the buzz of the bass instantly makes things less awkward. He has semi-long hair that covers his forehead, a strong jawline, and you can tell he skateboards by his shoes. Must be Marvin, Tricia’s guy. Her type to the tee.

As everyone starts to mingle, and other random people begin to trickle in, I hunt for the liquor. Soon, I notice that the alcohol is being served by Paul, so I walk to him, arm and cup extended.

“Anything for the poor?” I ask him with a smile, shaking my cup at him. Fuck it, he is cute after all. Green eyes. Yum.

He smirks. “I might have something for you somewhere.” He reaches for the tequila and begins to make me a drink. I notice his broad shoulders, and the fact that he’s actually a lot taller than I realized earlier.

I’m wearing short khaki shorts (like literally half my ass hanging out) and a black crop top so my belly and breasts are showing as well. Normally, I would never wear anything this revealing, but Tricia said that I’ve spent most of my life being a soccer player, and that I need to start taking advantage of the body it’s given me. I can tell that Paul would agree with her by the way he is looking at me.

He hands me the drink, and I reach for it. He pulls away, “Ah, not so simple, beggar.” He flashes a big smile. Okay, that’s it. “Maybe a simple round of truth or dare to receive your drink?”. He looks me dead in the eyes, mischievous as hell. Fuck it.

“Okay, fine.” I say. “But, you’re completely wrong if you think I’m going to tell you anything about myself. So dare. Obviously.”

He looks ecstatic, like he was hoping I would say that. “Excellent. I dare you to take this molly with me.” He opens his palm and shows me two white pills. He wiggles his fingers a little when I don’t respond right away. “So?” he asks. “What do you think?”

I’ve never done molly, but I’ve seen my friends do it several times. I’m not sure why, but before I know it, I’m reaching for the pill. I look up at him. “Well, I’m going to need my drink in order to take this down”, I say to him. He smiles and hands me my drink. He picks his cup up, and we cheer.

Ecstasy was definitely not on my to do list for the night, but I take it and begin to drink a few mixed drinks with Paul. Soon, Lynn is there, also getting a drink and I tell her we had taken a molly. Paul immediately brandishes a new one and offers it to Lynn, palm outstretched.

She takes it without a drop of hesitation, and then begins to take shots. “Fuck yeah!” she yells, beginning to dance, running her fingers through her blonde hair.

She’s always surprising me, because most of the time she’s sort of quiet, but then when you get to know her, she’s a fucking tornado. We have a lot in common that way.

I look over at Paul, beginning to feel the liquor really set in. I also start dancing, occasionally looking at him and biting my lip. Moving ever so slowly, closer to him. He just bobs his head and watches me, sipping his drink. Pretty soon, I’m about a foot away from him, dancing but not touching him. I act like I am going to lean into him, but instead I reach around him, and grab the Jose Cuervo. Sometimes, I can be good at this.

The glass bottle gleams in the air as I drink straight from it. This time, when I try to return the bottle smoothly around him, Paul grabs my hips and pulls me up against the counter. Pressing his body against mine, swaying his hips to the music. God this feels good. Nothing has ever actually felt this good before. Is this the molly? We stay like that for awhile, just running our hands on each other’s bodies.

Soon, I’m leading Paul down the hall to an empty room. Lynn happens to notice, and follows us inside. I push Paul onto the bed and straddle him, feeling his body under mine. I continue to grind my hips against his body, in time to the music. I don’t think he minds. Soon, Lynn is kneeling next me and starts pulling me away from him... okay? “What are you doing Lynn? We’re busy”.

She grabs my waist and pulls me close. “I just want to make sure you have the best time possible.” She whispers into my ear. “You need to kiss him like you fucking mean it. Like this,” with one arm pulling my ass into her body, and another one grabbing my neck, she forcefully kisses me. And, she like, fully devours me. I feel her tongue in my mouth, her hand squeezing my ass, and her fingers tighten around my throat all at the same time.

Holy shit, Lynn. I have never been kissed like this. I feel electrocuted, and instantly I feel my pussy get wet. Is this the molly? She lets go, and grins at me.

“See what I mean? Make him lose his fucking mind, Lucy. Nothing matters anyway.” She gets up and walks out of the room, yelling when she gets to the hallway: “Shots bitches!!!”. People cheer in response.

I turn to look at Paul. I could feel every part of me vibrating. His cock pulsing under me, his hands running over my breasts, pulling my nipples. I could see his hunger for me.

Holy shit, Lynn was right. This feeling is all that matters. Fuck Dan, fuck school, fuck church, and apparently, fuck being straight. Who cares who I fuck, what I smoke, what drugs I do?

This feeling is fucking amazing.

#short story #realisticfiction #yafiction #writers on tumblr #corvussempervirens

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outside-of-a-dog · 3 years

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Code-switching

Don’t Ask Me Where I’m From, by Jennifer De Leon, Atheneum (an imprint of Simon & Schuster), 9781534438248, 2020

Liliana Cruz lives in Boston with her parents and younger twin brothers. What she doesn’t know is that her parents are both undocmented and her beloved father is deported back to Guatemala just as Liliana gets a spot in a suburban METCO program...

This book deals honestly with Liliana’s of dislocation as her hour-long bus ride each morning takes her far from home and into another world. Everything is cause for wonder and confusion and Lily’s (name change) code-switching will be either be a revelation or achingly familiar, depending on your life experience. Lily is a strong and interesting character who loves to write and re-creates her Hyde Park neighborhood as cardboard dioramas, compete with tiny signs in Spanish and concertina wire on top of the buildings. Her infatuation with an older white boy, her fear of losing her long-time BFF Jade, and her tentative new friendships with the other METCO students and her host Holly are all persuasively realistic. De Leon has a great eye for detail: teachers have coffee-flavored breath, the METCO mentor is burdened with supporting the school’s diversity goals, and Lily shrinks inside when asked where she’s from or pressured to represent all LatinX people during class discussions. Students in grades 8 and up interested in realistic fiction, especially novels focused on school and issues of equality will want to grab this one. If you’re looking for something to read after I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter (2019) by Erika L. Sánchez, this would be a great next choice.

#realisticfiction #race & ethnicity #boston #latinx

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lisa-lostinlit · 3 years

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💬 Do you have a go-to genre or author for when you’re not feeling 100%? . When I’m feeling down or stressed with life, I always grab a feel-good adorable YA contemporary. The amazing @j3nn_benn is my favorite for this! I started reading #ChasingLucky yesterday and it definitely helped with my mood. I’m already in love with this story and so happy to have a new Jenn Bennett book to put a smile on my face. I can’t recommend her books enough! . Thank you to @simonteen for gifting me this copy! . . . s u m m a r y ⇣ Budding photographer Josie Saint-Martin has spent half her life with her single mother, moving from city to city. When they return to her historical New England hometown years later to run the family bookstore, Josie knows it’s not forever. Her dreams are on the opposite coast, and she has a plan to get there. What she doesn’t plan for is a run-in with the town bad boy, Lucky Karras. Outsider, rebel…and her former childhood best friend. Lucky makes it clear he wants nothing to do with the newly returned Josie. But everything changes after a disastrous pool party, and a poorly executed act of revenge lands Josie in some big-time trouble—with Lucky unexpectedly taking the blame. Determined to understand why Lucky was so quick to cover for her, Josie discovers that both of them have changed, and that the good boy she once knew now has a dark sense of humor and a smile that makes her heart race. And maybe, just maybe, he’s not quite the brooding bad boy everyone thinks he is… . . . h a s h t a g s ⇣ #jenniferbennett #yacontemporary #simonteen #realisticfiction #readersofinstagram #booksbooksbooks #cozyreading #cozyvibes #cozystyle #aquietstyle #slowdownwithstills #readingcommunity #bookstagram #calmcollected #reclaimthehappy #doortomywonderland #dreaminginpictures #morningslikethese #readingtime #readingnook #readmorebooks #readingcorner https://www.instagram.com/p/CH3HGAanKy7/?igshid=qh27tw66r8i7

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akeclouds · 4 years

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Oma

“Bangun, Angsana.”

Kubuka kelopak mata secara perlahan. Bias sinar matahari berhasil mengusik lelapku, menyilaukan dengan sinarnya. Tak seorang pun di ruangan ini, kecuali diriku sendiri. Lantas, siapakah gerangan yang membangunkanku pagi ini?

(more…)

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#cerita #fiksi #novel #realisticfiction #realistis #teenfiction

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hudsonhighschoollibrary · 4 years

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Far From the Tree by Robin Benway

Do you like the TV series This is Us? Then this is the book for you! Robin Benway weaves together the story of three teens connected by blood. When adopted, only child, Grace decides to put her own baby up for adoption, she sets out to learn more about her own mother and biological relatives. Told from three different perspectives--Grace and her two biological siblings as they get to know one another, this story explores the definition of family in all its forms--how to find it, how to keep it, and how to love it.

#BookTalks #RealisticFiction

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arcdreamer · 4 years

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Close to summer night… [short excerpt] Ah, summer evening… Smell of grass, the chill from lake and peace… Chirping of insects, soft wind breeze, porch of the house, the smell of smoke, as wood is slowly licked by fire in the stone oven. “Remember, how it was so peaceful in heart some moments in events of stillness, some very long time ago?” The smell of the heat and herbs from sauna… She stands next to me barefoot. I sit and eyes wander. “Your figure is so small, yet so strong. It’s rare to see you at peace.” I look down. Path is still, as it leads somewhere far. Eyes trace it towards horizon – forests and fields. She places her hand on my shoulder. My head leans on it. “Empty head at last?” Her voice is soothing. She states as she sees, but does so in a gentle manner. “The stillness makes feathers on your wings flutter in the breeze. That battered body having a moment to relax – you seem like a very odd part in painting.” The chill of air fills lungs with hope. “You’re not alone. You’ll always have me.” My eyes tear up, the beads slowly rolling down my cheeks. You don’t have to say anything. I’m also instilled in the silence. As we share that moment, with sunset falling into night – no words are spoken any more. My heart is filled with soft, warm light. #writing #originalfiction #realisticfiction #beauty #nature #momentinlife https://www.instagram.com/p/B8EDhs7F1U7/?igshid=ajh5dnd1oaqe

#writing #originalfiction #realisticfiction #beauty #nature #momentinlife

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therealraspy · 4 years

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Two people. A married couple clearly in distress. The female questions his nighttime wearabouts and why he came home drunk. The males aggressive manner adds more tension to the fight, as he wasn’t supposed to be mixing alcohol with his medication. He stumbles around the kitchen and knocks over stuff. Dinner plates, silverware, you name it. The female kept pressing him for details and he kept giving nonsensical answers and screaming obscenities at his female counterpart.

“Where were you? You never answered my question!”

“Somewhere you don’t need to know about.”

God, he sounded like a child. His tone changed from aggressive to calm and confused in a matter of seconds. He switched like a light. He didn’t have time to apologize because his wife was still screaming at him. He tried to defend his point by raising his voice to be louder than hers but it never worked. She was going to do whatever she wanted because he came home a few hours later than usual and drunk.

“I don’t even remember what happened! I blacked out what do you expect we’ve been married for eight years! You should know me by now!” he argued.

“I don’t even know my own husband because all I’ve ever been told are lies!”

“Well, my wife Isn’t a stubborn idiot! This problem would all be resolved if you just sit down and listen to me!”

“I’ve listened to you long enough. Even when you’re sober you never make any sense.”

They continued the heated argument and she made the worst mistake of her life. Bringing up divorce. When those words slipped out of her mouth the air went silent. His eyes went dark, his teeth were clenched, and his mind was black. He experienced violent blackouts when he mixed his antipsychotic medication with alcohol was never a good thing. He went for the liquor cabinet for a bottle of vodka and started drinking it straight from the bottle. He had a moment to think and then it hit him. He went to his bedroom where he kept his handgun in his nightstand. He cocked the gun to make sure it was loaded and saw his wife standing in the doorway.

“You don’t have to do this. Honey, please don’t do this to me.” She stammered but it was too late.

Without second thought he pulled the trigger. His face remained emotionless as he killed his wife, the love of his life, and the mother of his child.

He finished his bottle and drunkenly stumbled downstairs for another one. He shuffled around in the liquor cabinet before finding a bottle of strong whiskey. He sits down, gun still in hand and hears sirens. Part of him thinks it's a hallucination from all the vodka in his system, while the other part accepts his fate.

Meanwhile, in the other room, his son heard the whole thing. He woke up when the door slammed and heard them screaming at each other. He waited in his room for what felt like hours. When he heard the loud noise of the gunshot followed by sirens was when his curiosity got the best of him. He tip-toed out of his room and went downstairs. He had grown accustomed to the arguing in the household but it was still frightening nonetheless. He turns the corner to see his father sitting on the floor with a handgun and distant sirens coming closer. His father staring off into existence taking occasional swig from his bottle as time progressed and the sirens got closer. He sees his son and says “Come here,” He obeys only for his father to hand him the gun. “Shoot me.” His son’s his finger on the trigger yet hesitated, sirens getting closer. His father smiled and pulled the trigger for him. His father was clinging onto life but dying by the second. The kid started crying. The scene fades to black. The loud sirens drowning out any other noises. Imagine watching both of your parents being carried out on a stretcher.

#shortstory #realisticfiction #creativewriting #divorce #death #self destruction

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kaybeesbookshelf · 4 years

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I'm happy to host @lisaksimonds and her novel ALL IN today. This Texas Native brings us a gritty look at real life in this Christian fiction. BOOK REVIEW "You're a sinner until you're not. " This was a raw look at the journey from sinner to a person of faith. The protagonist Cami aka Leona Camille, in this story, is a blackjack dealer turned bestselling author thanks to her novel "Double Down Blues". With her success, Cami sheds not only weight but her long term boyfriend and adopts some bad habits and make some really bad choices. It is a testament to the author's skill at developing the characters so well that Cami was not a likable character, yet a relatable sinner. Her "sins" were laid out for all to see drinking, pre-marital sex...well you get the picture. I did connect with Joel. I could relate to the feeling of being in a relationship and still feeling alone or as if you don't know the person. I liked that I was not beat over the head with biblical quotes and righteousness. The author brought in a character that helped lead the protagonist down her road to salvation. The story flowed organically. The plot was clear and well-executed. I think the author did a good job of telling this story and it is appropriately categorized. The only thing that I thought was slightly odd was that gambling didn't play a huge part in the story. I assumed from the cover and the title that it would play a larger part. All in all, "All In", is a story that I would recommend to anyone who wants a raw, realistic account of one's journey to redemption. Check the link in my bio to participate in the giveaway!! #allinthenovel #realisticfiction #christianfiction #grittychristianfiction #bookreview #literature #texasauthors #kaybeesbookshelfreview #writingcommunity #lsbbt #lonestarlit (at Houston, Texas) https://www.instagram.com/p/B7qyHzTDw9f/?igshid=z14u76zv6lw1

#allinthenovel #realisticfiction #christianfiction #grittychristianfiction #bookreview #literature #texasauthors #kaybeesbookshelfreview #writingcommunity #lsbbt #lonestarlit

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rockycuzzo-blog · 2 years

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My Name Is Not Easy by Debbie Dahl Edwardson

My name is Luke. At least, that’s what everyone calls me. My real name is in Inupiaq, a native Alaskan language, a language that is forbidden at Sacred Heart. I’m at Sacred Heart School with my two little brothers, Bunna and Isaac, hundreds of miles from home and far away from anything familiar. We are all identified by our race here: Eskimos like me, Indians like Sonny, and Whites like Chickie Snow. And then there’s people like Father Mullen, our “teacher” who can’t seem to let us forget that we exist to fight with and hate each other. My story is the true story of so many native Alaskan kids who were sent to boarding schools, cut off from family and forced to abandon their entire culture. I still showed ‘em how to skin a moose though, and that I can hunt with the best. My name is not easy, but nobody, not even God himself, can make me give it up.

#2011 #realisticfiction #youngadult

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corvussempervirens · 3 years

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Chapter 23: 2016

The phone rings and clicks. I hear Lynn’s voice coming from the speaker. It’s weird, it’s been at least two or three years since we’ve actually spoken. “Hello?” she says, clearly confused to be getting a phone call from me. At least she answered.

“Hey,” I say, my voice cracking because I’m weak as hell. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t know who to call. Kat moved away, and I just don’t really know who to talk to.” I say, unsure if I should continue.

“Yeah, it’s cool. Are you okay?” She asks. Her voice sounds the same, like we are 17 again, drinking Four Loko’s in the back of the school, not 23 and jaded by the terrible decisions we’ve made.

“He fucking cheated on me dude. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Everyone fucking hates me for dating him to begin with, and I just need someone to talk to.” I say, trying to keep my voice even.

“I know.” She says. “Do you want to meet somewhere?”

I don’t say anything at first. Of course she knows. His fucking baby mama sure has a way of making sure everyone knows every part of our relationship. I guess it’s what I get for inadvertently falling in love with someone’s boyfriend. I guess all of this is what I get.

“Top of the hill?” I say, referring to our old smoking spot in the town we grew up in. “30 minutes?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you there.” She says, and hangs up.

I smoke at least five cigarettes on my way over there, playing my memories over and over again:

Alex, my cheater boyfriend, asking me if I was coming home. Me, deciding to stay at my parents instead of our apartment because we have been fighting over everything lately, and I’m tired of it. So, I tell him that I won’t be home, but that we could talk about things later on during the week.

I text him after work, and he doesn’t respond. A few hours go by, and still nothing. My heart starts accelerating, and I have a terrible feeling in my stomach. I play it cool at my parents, but once everyone goes to bed, I feel the inexplicable sensation that something is wrong.

I drive home at 3 am, and as soon as I enter the hallway to the building, I know something is clearly not right. I hear people fucking, and I am 100% positive that one of those people is Alex. I walk to the door to our apartment, and I can hear every movement, every grunt, and every moan from a woman that is clearly not me.

I wish I could say that I walked in, and called him out. That I ripped him from her arms, and beat the shit out of him. Instead, I just went back to my car and cried and drove around all night. I come back to the apartment to watch her leave at 6 am. I confront Alex. Scream, yell, curse, grab his phone and get the mystery woman’s number.

He begins to get angry and yells at me that I’m fucking crazy. That I deserve this. That I am no good for anyone, and that’s why he fucked her.

I leave.

I smoke pot until I finally call Lynn. 27 hours awake now.

At the top of the hill, I park my car and wait for Lynn to get there. I roll another blunt and begin to spark it when she finally gets there, 10 minutes late. Of course. She gets out of her car and walks toward the bench overlooking the bay. She’s wearing black pants, a black shirt, and black make-up. Nothing much has changed about the way she looks except that now she has tattoos, and somehow has became more angelic in appearance. Her beauty has always stunned me, even though I’ve known her for close to eight years at this point.

“Smoke?” I say to her, handing her the blunt when she sits down next to me. She shakes her head. Okay, that’s new.

“Nah, I don’t really smoke anymore. How are you doing?” She asks, looking at me closely.

“Well, not great.” I begin to tell her about what happened the night before, how our relationship had been on the rocks for months, how I confronted the woman and asked her how long she had been seeing him. How the woman was shocked to find out that I exist. I told her how Alex had been cheating on me with this woman for months, and that the woman had actually started moving stuff into our apartment, and that Alex somehow managed to keep it all from me and her.

She sighed and cursed at all the right places, clearly angry at Alex. She grew up with him too, after all. She told me how they had talked a few months ago, and that all he did was talk shit about me. Like he wasn’t the one that pursued me after I told him countless times that we should not date. She mentioned how he had been badmouthing me for weeks, and that he had been talking to his baby mama about the fact that he had been seeing other women behind my back.

My heart fucking explodes like a can of soda that’s been shaken. I don’t know how to feel. Everything about this is terrible. The fact that he did it, the fact that I saw it, the fact that I thought he would treat me differently. Then, a sudden feeling of rage towards Lynn begins to manifest as well. If she knew this months ago, why didn’t she tell me?

Her and I suddenly stopped being friends three years ago. One day we were friends getting drunk and smoking weed, and then she just fucking ghosts me. No word, no text, no call. Nothing. I try reaching out to her a ton at first, but after I hear that she’s hanging out with everyone but me, I get the message. I stop trying to figure out why, and I move on. Even though that happened, we have been through so much together. We have seen each other through the worst. She couldn’t pay me this courtesy?

I keep smoking. Lynn doesn’t say anything. I think she can tell what I’m thinking. She always can. “Well, fuck.” I say, unsure of what to say or how to feel. I become aware of how tired I am, how empty I feel. “How are you?” I ask her.

She begins to talk to me about her relationship, and all of its problems. She tells me about her family, and about her struggles. She tells me that she’s trying to be a better person, and that she’s trying to amend for her wrongs in order to move forward in life.

“Lucia?” She says, her voice shaking. Weird for her to use my full name.

I finally turn to look at her in the eyes. Her bright blue eyes are filled with tears, and are starting to get red even though she isn’t smoking.

“Yeah?” I respond.

“I need to tell you something.” She says, her voice now shakier.

“Okay,” I say, completely unsure that I can handle anymore.

“I fucked James.” She states, her voice a little steadier. Her eyes trying to read me.

“I know.” I say looking back into her eyes. “He told me.”

James is my ex-guy, not really boyfriend, but guy who had me at the palm of his hand from the ages of 16-21. He’s also the first boy to ever ask me out in sixth grade. James had told me about this though, on my twenty first birthday, when he decided to appear uninvited. We made out behind the house, and then he stopped and decided to tell me that we could never be together because he’s terrible, and fucked Lynn.

Seems like a great time for Lynn to remind me about this.

“Yeah, but I don’t think you understand Lucy. It wasn’t just once.” She says, pausing to put her hand on my knee. What the actual fuck. The way James told me, he made it seem like it was a one time thing. “We fucked for like a year. Lucy, he even tried to get back with you while we were still fucking. Then when you went back to him, we kept fucking.” She says.

I’m not really sure why she’s telling me all of this right now, but I’m so god damn tired and sad that I can’t even summon the strength to get her to stop. Lynn begins to map out all the different times they hooked up, how those times coincided with the same times he was trying to fuck me. How he told her all the same lines he told me, and how she had honestly fallen in love with him. She told me how she cheated on her boyfriend with James for a year, and how James made it a point to brag about double dipping between best friends to anyone who would listen. She tells me how all of this fucked with her, and that he’s the reason she abandoned our friendship.

By this point, I’ve smoked the blunt and another three cigarettes. I can’t breathe. Lynn just keeps talking about how she just wanted to tell me because she’s been bearing this weight on her chest for years, and that she can’t move on in her life with that weight bringing her down.

Now, I’m fucking furious. I’m furious at James for doing this to me, even though we have known each other since grade school. I’m furious that Lynn decided that this would be a great time to tell me all of this information. I’m pissed at the sheer selfishness that she is exhibiting by trying to clear her karmic debt at a time like this.

I’m fucking mortified at the way that these men in my life have treated me, and how I always seem to fall in love with people who are willing to hurt me. I’m depressed at how many people decided to stop being my friend when I started dating Alex. I’m basking in the information that Lynn is revealing, and this knowledge that I am so much more alone than I ever realize. I am so broken, so weak, so empty.

“Okay, Lynn.” I say suddenly, a little too loudly. “Thanks for telling me. I hope things go well for you, and this helps you move on. I’ll see you around.” I say to her, cutting her off from saying anymore. She looks flustered, unsure of what to do.

I walk away. I get in my car. I have nowhere to go. I drive back to Alex.

#short story #realisticfiction #yafiction #writers on tumblr #corvussempervirens

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outside-of-a-dog · 3 years

Text

If this is how the other half lives, I’m outta here

They Wish They Were Us, by Jessica Goodman, Razorbill (an imprint of Penguin Random House), 9780593114292, 2020

This book was a delicious, well-written mash up of Gossip Girl and Veronica Mars, while neatly working in a critical examination of hazing...

Subtle it ain’t. Jill Newman is a scholarship student at Gold Coast Prep, out on the tip of Long Island. Despite her low socio-economic status, she manages to get tapped for a secret society, the Players, run by upperclassmen. After enduring unspeakable torture during their freshman year, the Players reap the benefits in the form of purloined exams, plagiarized papers and Ivy League contacts. But on the last night of initiation, something went terribly wrong and golden girl (and Jill’s best friend) Shaila died, while her boyfriend, fellow freshman initiate Graham, got framed. Now it’s senior year and Jill’s rethinking everything, from Graham’s guilt, to the morality of cheating, to the cruelty of the Players, especially now that her little brother Jared got tapped.

This is a twisty, turny, atmospheric and totally voyeuristic look at how the other half lives. It’s not meant to be realistic -- it’s a fantasy and pretty un-put-downable. Parents, kind adults, understanding teachers? Either not in the book or totally useless. I loved the scene where the evil principal threatens to upend Jill’s dream of attending Brown to pursue astrophysics if she spills any dirt on Gold Coast Prep. There’s also a cute hunky boyfriend and a steamy older crush to liven up Jill’s days. It’s a wonder she ever gets any work done! All characters are presumed white except for Nikki, the Player/class president whose parents are Hong Kong textile magnates (no, really.)

The mystery wasn’t too hard to solve, but was also sort of beside the point, so that seemed OK. I will say, the passing of time was handled clumsily. The book opens in September of senior year (with multiple flashbacks to freshman year) and then suddenly, everyone’s got their college acceptances. Wow, that year really flew by! The hazing was disturbing and quite extreme; realistically, I don’t think it would have been easy to hide. But hazing is an ongoing issue in schools and colleges, so I welcomed any examination of the psychology behind it and the gender inequity that Jill gradually realizes forms the foundation of Player cruelty.

#mystery #realisticfiction

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