Saturday, August 6, 2011

Forgive me?


 I decided to enter a contest about bullying, so here is a short story, I could have written much more and made it go further, but it's a short story so that is why I ended it where I did. 

They watched her, with their hands cupped tightly against their mouths, suppressing the sensation to giggle. Vera Morris, what a loser she was, with short black-cropped hair, thick round glasses, and braces. She also dressed all in black, was there a funeral today, they all wondered.
“What are you ladies staring at?” Liam Miller, one of the most popular kids at Huntington High said, as he snuck up behind the girls.
“Vera,” Jenna White, the leader of the pack snickered.
“What are we waiting for?” he questioned.
“Just watch her attempt to open her locker,” Marsha Cone, second in command to Jenna added.
“You girls are cruel, but I like it,” Liam whispered.

Verna Morris twisted the combo lock for the fifth time, just waiting for her locker to open. She hated every moment at Huntington High School. She had known these kids since she was five, and nothing had ever changed. It all started in second grade when she went to the bathroom on herself; no one had ever forgotten it. She had even lost her best friend that day.
“fifteen-twenty four-thirty eight,” she had said the combo aloud in a whisper several times, and still nothing had happened.
Getting agitated she smacked the door hard, her hand turning beat red and echoing with pain.
A hand from behind her reached over and tapped the locker with its palm. She turned to see who it was. Her eyes widened it was Tyler Monroe, the best friend who had not talked to her since that day in second grade.
 She lifted her glasses from sliding down her nose and looked at him in awe. Then turned back as the locker swung open, and mud and dirt came pouring out onto the floor in front of them. Aside from the dirt, muddy water sprayed directly into their faces.
She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, the mud stung.


The girls and Liam could not help but burst out laughing the second the mud fell out of the locker. They were not expecting Tyler Monroe, the star quarterback to be a victim in their small crime.
“You mean Tyler wasn’t in on this?” Liam questioned the girls.
“No, he just showed up,” Marsha chimed in.
Jenna however, was quiet.
           
“Are you okay?” he asked. She nodded.
He ran his hands through his perfect blonde hair, and stared down at her with brown eyes.
“Physically, yes, mentally, definitely not,” she could feel the tears welling up, and pleaded for them to stop.
“I mean how am I supposed to go through the rest of the day with my clothes all drenched in water and mud?” it was not an actual question, more like a rhetorical one.
“I have an idea.”

Jenna, Marsha and their crew sat at their usual table against the windows, along the far side of the cafeteria. Liam sat across from a quiet Jenna.
“Has anyone seen Tyler yet today?” she questioned, stirring her yogurt.
No one answered her. They all looked up for a second and then put their heads back down.
“Guys, seriously,” she shoved her yogurt forward and stared everyone down.
“If you really want to know, look over there,” Marsha pointed out, her mouth stuffed full of food.

Verna felt nervous; she knew everyone was watching them.
“Should you be sitting with them?” she heard herself ask.
She had noticed that from the second she stepped into the room with him, his crew stopped to stare.
“They can deal without me for one day,” he said bumping into her lightly.

“What is he doing?” Jenna grumbled holding onto the table.
“Helping an old friend?” Marsha mumbled.
Jenna gave her the death stare, and food fell from her mouth.
“What?” she questioned.
Jenna could not help herself; her boyfriend was over there getting close to an old friend, who he never really stopped caring for. Of course, she knew one day he would eventually get up the nerve to talk to her again, and this was all he needed.

After grabbing their lunch, they walked back out into the wild, A.K.A the cafeteria. She could not help but laugh as they spoke about their past. He remembered when her brother’s snake got loose in the house, and her mother was standing on top of the kitchen counter screaming. They had memories that dated back to about three years old.
They both walked forward paying attention to each other and nothing else.
“Oh, opps,” she heard a voice say.
It was too late for her to realize what was happening as it happened. Her lunch tray smacked up against the shirt that her and Tyler and picked out of the lost and found.
Standing in front of her was Jenna. They had never gotten along. They were two very different people both with Tyler as a friend. Tyler chose them, over her. She had no idea what had come over her today, and why she let Tyler back into her life, it was a mistake. She looked down and the food on her tray was sliding down her shirt.
“Do you have to be such a jerk?” Verna questioned, tears returning to her eyes.
“Tyler chose us, not you. In addition, he and I have been dating for three years; I am not going to let some old friend take him away from me. Verna you will be so sorry you messed with me,” Jenna’s face was inches from Verna’s.
“Jenna’s right Tyler, I don’t know what this was, but I can’t handle it. I noticed these pranks getting worse, and you trying to talk to me every day and then today finally doing it, it will just get worse. I can’t do this anymore,” Verna finally let them fall. They were hot and stung from her eyes down to her lips.
“I never wanted to loose you as a friend,” he said.
“Yeah, well maybe you should have thought about that in the second grade when you chose them over me,” she cried.
She could feel the stares, hear the whispers, and hated every moment. All she could think to do was run.

Jenna smacked Tyler in the arm.
“What is with you lately?” she questioned.
“I made a promise to Verna years ago, and just recently after dealing with some of your recent shenanigans, I have come to realize whose side I should have taken,” he turned to walk away.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” she grabbed onto his arm.
“I can walk away if I want to Jenna, you don’t own me, and you never have,” he angrily shoved her arm away.
People were staring, but he did not care. He raced after her. He had pictured this day in his head to be a lot better. The day he would finally get the courage to apologize went smoother in his head. He would replay it every night in his head. It had haunted him since the ninth grade when they had English together for this first time since the second grade. He saw her with her black hair draped over the desk, a pencil in hand, and her notebook on top of her schoolbooks. She frantically wrote in the notebook, and he could tell she was writing her usual poems. It was at that moment he realized how much he had missed receiving them in his desk and under his pillow after she would leave his house.

When he reached her, his heart shattered. She stood in front of her locker; in red writing across it were hurtful words.
YOU DON’T DESERVE HIM OR ANYONE, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE A LOSER!
She almost collapsed to the ground, but he was there to catch her.
“Don’t let them get to you,” he whispered.
“They already have Tyler, they have since they all started calling me baby Verna wets-a-lot,” she sobbed.
“You have me now,” he tried to calm her down.
“Where were you then? Huh?” she questioned.
“I know I wasn’t there.” She felt him run his hands through her hair.
“Then why do you care now?” she asked.
“Do you remember that first day of ninth grade?”
She looked up at him.
“Kind of,” she shrugged wiping her face.
“The only thing I can remember is walking into Mr. Frank’s English classroom. You had your head submerged in your writing as usual,” he laughed a little when remembering.
“I had to catch my breath; it reminded me of the last time we spent at my house. You sat at my desk; your feet were dangling, your hair lay on your notebook, you were writing so fast I thought the pencil would fly out of your hand,” he laughed again. “But it didn’t, and you just kept on writing. When you left that day, I found the poem you left under my pillow, the one about our friendship, which I still have under my pillow. That is beside the point, that day in ninth grade I looked at you and realized I had made a huge mistake. I have been planning some massive speech every day since then, but then Jenna came into my life. I cared for her at first, and I felt like belonged and I liked the feeling. Lately though with her whole gang up on Verna kick, I have drifted away from her and them. I have been watching her and have wanted to save you from…”
 “I don’t need saving…” she looked up at him.
“I just need a friend.”
“I can be that,” he said.
“You were that, how do I know you won’t leave me behind again?” she questioned.
“I can’t give you a reason; I am just looking for a second chance. I want to come back to my room with poems written about our day under my pillow. I want to see those poems that you made with name. I just want you back in my life, and I just never knew how to ask your forgiveness,” he admitted.
“I could give you a second chance,” she said.
“But…”
“No buts, just make sure you check your locker at the end of the day,” she felt herself smile.
“What will I find in there?” he questioned.
“Oh, I don’t know, you will just have to wait,” she replied.

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