»
Main Forums
»
Passions in Prose
»
Tell You The Truth
| Passions in Prose |
|
Tell You The Truth |
|
|
Pearls_Of_Wisdom Member
since 2000-09-02
Posts 175 |
"Brent! Uh... hi! What're you doing here?" I asked, exasperated and blushing in my plaid flannel pajamas. "Well, I was just, you know, in the area, and I thought I'd stop by and see you for a sec. Is that okay? You don't look too happy to see me. Look, uh, I can go if you want... If it's a bad time, that's okay, I'll understand," he said in his English accent. "Oh no, I mean, it's fine. It's just that I'm kind of still in my pajamas here. No one sees me like this except my family. Didn't you notice I looked a little retarded compared to normal? This isn't how I usually dress, you know." Now I was toying with him, hoping for a compliment. Looking down at me - I was much shorter than Brent - he seemed to see my clothes for the first time. He smiled, and that seemed to break some of the tension which had been getting almost unbearable. In a gallant, enunciated voice, he proclaimed, "You can get dressed if you wish. I don't mind waiting." I half expected him to add 'me lady' at the end of that sentence. Who was toying with whom now? I felt like I had been warped into a Shakespearean movie: I was the princess and Brent was the.... the um, suitor. Yikes! Well, that just made me totally uncomfortable! I decided to make a joke of it, trying again to gain the upper hand. Giving him my best Shakespearean lady look, I blinked innocently and said, "Oooh, Brent, you're quite charming when you want to be, aren't you?" Now it was his turn to blush, although he tried not to show it. "Aw, shut up, Annie. You're embarrassing me." I beamed at him in triumph. "Okay, fine. Don't get dressed then. Do whatever you like. I was only trying to be polite." Now he seemed hurt. Oh dear. I really have no flirting skills whatsoever, do I? I asked myself silently. "I know. And I appreciate it. I do. And it is nice to see you, I'm just a little self- conscious of my jammies." He studied the jammies in question carefully, with the expression of a detective looking for evidence. Definitively he said, "Well, I certainly don't see anything wrong with them. Everyone has pajamas, it's nothing to be ashamed about." He sounded so proper it was almost comical. And the way he said 'pajamas'! That was definitely adorable. What had he just said? I sensed that a response was required from me. I am such a ditz, I reprimanded myself. Just chill. He is only a guy. A very attractive guy, yes, but nonetheless, just a guy. "Okay. I'll get dressed and brush my hair and I'll be down in a few minutes." "Great! A decision!" I couldn't help but smile back stupidly. Then I turned and walked toward the stairs. Knowing he was watching me leave the room, I felt strangely like a mannequin trying to learn to walk. Finally, I was out of the room and away from those piercing eyes of his. This is terrible, I thought. I've got to either get over him or do something about this. I felt like a twelve-year-old smitten with an older guy. What to wear, what to wear... After transforming my bed into something akin to a 50% off table at Suzy Shier, I finally settled on khaki pants and a v-neck flowery top. After combing my long wavy hair and brushing my teeth, I quickly brushed on some mascara and lipstick and scrutinized myself in the mirror. Good enough! Rushing back down the winding staircase, I hoped I hadn't taken too long. I was a little short of breath when I reached the bottom and almost bumped right into Brent because I wasn't paying much attention to the world around me. I snapped back into reality, blinking, as Brent's eyes met mine and I felt his big hands softly touching my waist, steadying me. Time stopped. My mouth dropped open in shock, and I felt my body temperature rise about twenty degrees. My whole body tingled. Everything was happening so slowly I could almost count Brent's eyelashes. I don't know how long I stared into his dark brown eyes. What was he feeling and thinking in this moment? I couldn't tell. Eons seemed to pass, although it was in reality only a few seconds. I breathed in the intoxicating smell of his aftershave. Finally, he spoke. "Woah! Be careful! You might've bowled me right over!" We were still standing only inches apart, and he was still touching me. My heart was pounding in my temples. Damn it, Annie! He's going to find out you like him! But I still couldn't, didn't want to, move. I felt slightly tipsy. Are you okay, Annie?" Hearing my name brought me back to the present. I blinked several times and moved away from him, quickly inhaling some much needed oxygen. "Yeah," I replied, shaking my head. "I'm... I'm fine." Really, I was angry and foolish. He still looked a little concerned. I couldn't stand it. What I really wanted to do was to kiss him, immediately, on the lips. Of course I wouldn't, or couldn't. I didn't want to embarrass myself any further this morning. Now I was sad, deciding that there was no way he could be thinking the same thing. Unfortunately, I have never been good at hiding my feelings. He raised his eyebrows. "You're sure? You look like you've just seen a ghost or something." I sighed audibly. This was the time to bring it up if I was going to tell him how I felt about him. I already felt embarrassed enough. It couldn't get any worse, right? I sat down on the stairs and put a hand to my forehead, covering my eyes from him. My brain was not working properly. I felt as if he had already rejected me. He knelt in front of me, still worried, but silent. Waiting for an explanation. Oh God, I'm going to cry, I thought hopelessly. This was all so stupid and melodramatic. I swallowed. My throat felt dry. Repressed tears stung behind my eyes, which were closed. Damn it, damn it, damn it! What if I told him and it didn't work out? What if it ruined the friendship that was so important to me? What if not telling him ruined our friendship? I hadn't considered that before. As my mind played out possible scenarios, Brent and I were both silent, both waiting for a response from me. After a minute or two, Brent asked, "What is it? What's wrong?" God, why did he have to be so kind? It only made it worse. Who cares what I think I should do, what do I want to do? a more supportive voice in my head asked. I took a deep breath and decided to tell him. I moved my hand away from my eyes, which were starting to drip slow tears from underneath their closed lids, and instead covered my mouth. I was so tense I could feel Brent becoming tense too. I couldn't look at him. He had never seen me cry before. I felt like a total dork. The spiteful tears were falling faster now. I swallowed again. "Annie....," he started, almost pleading. I managed to force myself to respond, "I.... it's about.....," but that was all I could get out. At least I had removed my hand from my mouth. "Is it about me?" Brent asked softly. I opened my eyes accusingly at that. Oh God. He knows. It's over. Here goes the friendship. I studied his eyes intensely, searching desperately for a clue into his feelings. Slowly I nodded my head. "Was it something I did? Or, or said? Have I hurt you in some way? You can tell me. Please, please. I want to know. Don't cry." He gingerly handed me a crumpled Kleenex from his pocket. Oh boy, me and my savior guys. I wiped my cheeks, cursing myself for not wearing waterproof mascara. "I must look awful," I thought, not realizing I had said it out loud. "No you don't. Don't worry about that now. I don't care how you look. I mean, uh, what I mean is.... not that you aren't beautiful.... umm...." Beautiful?! I couldn't breathe. What was he saying? I had to say something. "Look, I don't want us to be friends anymore," I said, studying the floor. He looked devastated. "What?" "Umm, that's not what I mean. I meant, I want.... I, uh...." Time had slowed down again. How could I finish? Could I finish? I was so terrified of losing-- The next second his lips were touching mine. A wave of dizziness washed over me. Hesitantly, gently, he touched my face, my hair, my neck. I couldn't believe what was happening. Realizing it was in fact not a dream, I kissed him back, loving the feel of his lips on mine. Shaking, I reached up and ran my fingers through his dark hair, something I had longed to do for months. I was delirious with relief and excitement. It was going to be all right after all. "Oh, Annie," he breathed into my ear. "I have been waiting for this moment for so long. I had no idea you felt the same way. I was worried...." "I know, I was worried too, that's why I didn't say anything until now. But I'm so glad that I did. Or you did." At least, that's the way it happened in my daydream. In real life, it happened very differently, a little less dramatically, and not for another six months. Oh, and not with Brent. Sorry to disappoint you. However, I should point out that Brent doesn't really have an English accent. In fact, I'm not quite sure how to break this to you, but he doesn't really exist. So, as I said, in real life, it happened differently. The important thing, though, is that it did happen, eventually. And to tell you the truth, I like the real version even better. [This message has been edited by Pearls_Of_Wisdom (edited 02-03-2001).] |
||
| © Copyright 2001 Pearls_Of_Wisdom - All Rights Reserved | |||
|
Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
This is a wonderful story! But one small thing bothered me..it's the way you used the word retarded. I don't like the inference you made. Otherwise, it was great! |
||
|
Pearls_Of_Wisdom Member
since 2000-09-02
Posts 175 |
Poet DeVine, I'm glad you liked it. About using "retarded" - I know it's politically incorrect, but it's just my idea of realistic 17-year-old language and not intended as an insult to anyone. If I meant it literally or was referring to an actual person I would certainly use the correct term. |
||
|
JOY 14 Senior Member
since 1999-09-22
Posts 1419Wisconsin USA |
flowed well. Akwardness. Always have to deal with it. But as you pointed out, you get over it. Joy |
||
|
Pearls_Of_Wisdom Member
since 2000-09-02
Posts 175 |
JOY14, Would you say that was what you got out of the story, or did you see another theme? I myself am unsure what the "message" is in it. Does anyone else have any thoughts on what you thought the theme or moral was, or what ideas the story brought to mind? I would be interested to hear feedback from you all, if you're up for it. Ashley |
||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
