Prompt #14

The Prompt: “If you were going to be some lame suburban dad why couldn’t you be that for me?”

“What are you talking about?” Paul asked, taking a step closer to his daughter.

Kelly pulled away from him and wrapped her arms around herself. She didn’t want anyone else to touch her, especially not him. “You! You’re just some family guy, raising your two point five kids with your Carol Brady wife and white picket fence! You were supposed to be awesome, have some reason you weren’t around the last fifteen years! Not this.”

Kelly trailed off as she gestured around the house. It was so suburban, so typical of everything she’d seen her friends have growing up. There was the perfect lawn, the nice house, even dinner was the classic suburban dream. He had the perfect family.

“Why not me, Dad? Why not me and Mom? What makes them so special that you settled down?” Kelly’s voice shook and it took everything for her to not break down. He didn’t mean anything to her. He shouldn’t have meant anything to her. She didn’t want to show him that she was weak or that he had the ability to hurt her.

She wanted to be stronger than that.

“That’s not it at all,” he said looking saddened by Kelly’s accusation. “I was so young when you were born, so immature. I didn’t have an idea of who I was. I’ve grown up since them.”

“You never came back! You never contacted me again! Fifteen years went by and I’m only here because I sent you that damn letter!” Kelly’s voice rose and she pulled back even more, turning her back on her estranged father. “You never reached out.”

“I’ve made mistakes…”

“Mistakes,” Kelly scoffed. “I don’t want to hear it.” She’d gone to his house that night with the intention to build a relationship, at the very least hear him grovel and make excuses for the past fifteen years. But now that she had seen what his life was she didn’t want any of that. He had what she’d always wanted.

Only he had it without her.

“What is it that you want from me?” Paul asked. He looked sincerely as though he wanted to please her, but that only mad e Kelly feel worse.

“Nothing. I don’t want anything from you anymore,” she spat. Maybe another time, even earlier that day she had, but Kelly was done. She was finished with him. “I’ll go back to being your point five kid that you fathered and abandoned and you can keep being dad of the year for your other two.”

Paul followed as she hurried to her car. Kelly ducked her head and avoided eye contact as she started the engine.

“Please, Kelly-”

“Have a nice life, Dad,” she muttered as she shifted the car into drive and sped off, leaving her father staring after her.

Prompt #13

The Prompt: The chairs are all thrown around, the books and papers are scattered, and the coffee is spilled. Write about what happened before or what happened after.

He stood, panting heavily and staring at the mess he had made. Sweat streamed down his face as realized what he had done. This was his school, his work. It wasn’t his home where anything he did remained personal. Anything he did here would have consequences. If he got fired he would never find another teaching job.

Pete sank to his knees amidst the papers strewn across the floor, his face buried in his hands. Something wet and cold began to sink into the right leg of his pants and it took him a moment to realize it was from his coffee, his coffee that he hadn’t had time to drink this morning because- He shook his head as a bitter taste filled his mouth. He kicked the coffee cup away, aware that it was a childish gesture. No one was around to see, what did it matter if he acted like a child?

“Mr. Elliot?” A voice called softly. Pete glanced up and recognized one of his students, a freshman he’d taught for little over a month. “What-?”

He didn’t know why she had stayed this late after school, but a wave of embarrassment washed over him for his tantrum. The rage vanished as quickly as it had come on. “There was a bit of an accident, but I’ve got it under control now.”

She nodded somewhat hesitantly, but when Pete stood up and made a show of wiping up the spilled coffee, she left. He placed one of the chairs upright and sat in it, surveying the mess his tantrum had caused. It had been horribly immature. He hadn’t thrown a tantrum since he’d been a young child and even then they had been infrequent. Pete didn’t know how his maturity had regressed so far as to throwing tantrums. He shakily picked up the book his freshman classes were reading and closed it, placing it on the desk exactly as it had been ten minutes before.

He did this with the rest of the room, hiding any evidence of his brief but uncontrollable rage. The freshman papers were stained brown from the coffee, but Pete carefully shuffled them together and placed them on the desk in a single neat stack. When he was done, the papers were the only remaining proof that anything out of the ordinary had happened and they were easy enough to explain away.

Prompt #12

The Prompt: There’s a reason why I can’t look you in the eye anymore.

I feel betrayed. We were never close, but I trusted you. I trusted you more than I did the rest of them. I thought you were safe. I try to avoid you as much as I can. It’s hard when I have to sit in the same classroom with you for an hour a day.

I keep my head down, sprint out the moment the bell rings. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can’t stand to be in your presence anymore. Just that single hour in class makes me feel physically ill. You don’t have to say a word and already I want to run far away. I would skip, but I haven’t got anywhere to go and I’m too afraid that would draw me to your attention.

Instead I sit there, your desk not more than fifteen feet away from mine. Everyone else is working busily on their assignments hoping to fall into your good favor. I can’t focus. They don’t know anything. It’s supposed to be a secret. I’m not supposed to know either.

But she told Dana and Dana told me. I don’t know why Dana told me. I never asked to know. It would have been better to live happily in ignorance. But in a way I’m glad I know. What if I had gone on idolizing you? I feel dirty just remembering the way I used to think about you.

And even worse when I think about what you did with her. It wasn’t a onetime thing. It went on and on for weeks, maybe even longer. There were feelings involved. That almost makes everything worse. Feelings.

I glance up at the clock. This assignment carries over as homework so not focusing isn’t going to get me any unwanted attention. Ten minutes left. Ten minutes until I can escape.

Ten minutes is forever in the same room as you.

It’s hard to believe there was ever a time I looked up to you, idolized you even. I can’t imagine going back to that now. It’s hard enough knowing I have to continue to see you every single day when I come into school and pretend that nothing has changed.

I was never an actress. I’m not a part of the theater department. I can hardly tell a lie without being called out immediately. I don’t handle secrets well at all. And this is a huge one. I can’t think of anything else and it makes me wonder about all kinds of things.

Why you did it, for one. Why would you take such a risky chance when it could ruin your whole life? We have the excuse of being teenagers for our stupidity, but you’re an adult. You’re supposed to be mature and rational. You’re supposed to stop things before they go too far.

It all comes down to you. Maybe she made mistakes too, but you’re the adult. That’s why I can’t stand to be around you anymore.

People begin to pack up and I check the clock again. Three minutes. Oh god, please let it be over. Please let me be out of here. It’s a Friday so I know I won’t have to suffer the hour of class again until Monday.

“Lyssa?”

I freeze as you say my name. You can’t want to talk to me. It’s Friday. I’ve just got to get away from you.

But you’re a teacher and I can’t just openly disrespect you. I shuffle over to your desk where you’re grading our essays from last week. You smile up at me, but I look away. Keep my gaze on the ground. Talking to you makes my stomach roll over uneasily so I keep my mouth shut.

“I know I’m not handing the essays back until Wednesday, but I wanted to get yours to you early. Congratulations.” You offer me a paper from the side of your desk and I stare at it a moment before realizing you mean for me to take it. Accepting anything from you seems wrong now, even if it’s only a paper.

I grab it quickly and yank it from your grasp so we won’t both be touching it at the same time. I don’t want any kind of connection with you. The cursive A at the top of the page would have pleased me just a few weeks ago, but now all I can think is that you wrote that A and what else you’ve done with those hands. What else you could be thinking as you graded it.

“Thanks,” I mumble, already heading towards the door. I don’t want to talk to you any longer than absolutely necessary.

You frown at me slightly. “Is everything okay? Anything upsetting you at home?”

The question puts me on my guard. Home. Home’s fine. You’re the one upsetting me. But I can’t say that to you. You aren’t supposed to know that I know.

At that moment the bell rings and I snatch your backpack from the floor. “Gotta go, can’t be late for class,” I say. I just can’t wait to be out of your presence.

“Anything you need, Lyssa, don’t hesitate to come to me, alright?” You stare at me sincerely and I nod jerkily before sprinting out of the room. It’s only then I allow myself to cringe in disgust.

Had you said that same line to her before things started happening between the two of you? Did you offer your shoulder for her to cry on? Or was that offer to me merely innocent, a teacher trying to help his student the way he should?

I can’t take anything you say at face value anymore. I question everything you say, everything you’ve ever said. It disgusts me, sickens me to the point where I have to run away. I know things I shouldn’t, things I never wanted to know.

I don’t know why you did it, though. I’m not sure I want to. I can’t begin to fathom what made you think it was okay. You’re not who I thought you were. Not by a long shot.

Characters: Reya and Mitchell

It's not a true prompt, but I wrote two shorts for my friends' characters. Reya is Katia's because Katia is amazing.

Mitchell:

He tossed the baseball in the air and caught it on its way down. He repeated the action again and again until the knocking on the door ceased. He didn’t want to go outside today. He didn’t want to do anything today, except sit in his room and stare at the ceiling.

There were a few minutes of blissful silence until someone else knocked on the door. The person tried the knob and Mitchell smirked. It was locked. Even if she was rude enough to come in unwelcome, she wouldn’t be able to. Something clicked in the door and it swung open. Mitchell sat up in surprise. His sister stood there, scowling at him.

“Mom says to come down for dinner,” she said, her hands on her hips and her face a scowl to match Mitchell’s. It was what they’d both inherited from their father, although they looked different in all other respects.

“I’m not hungry,” Mitchell replied.

“But Mom said.”

“I’m not a teenager anymore,” he said in an annoyed tone. “I don’t have to listen to what Mom says.”

She glared at him, anything playful dropping from her features. “If you’re so grown up, why don’t you do something with your life?”

Reya:

 “Excuse me, miss, you’ve dropped your-”

Reya turned on the man with a scowl on her face. She didn’t like being interrupted by strangers when she went out at night. Just because she was alone didn’t mean she wanted any company. “What?” She snapped.

“Your watch,” he said, averting his eyes. “You’ve dropped your watch.”

Reya’s eyebrows drew together sharply. He wouldn’t look her in the eyes, she couldn’t abide by people who avoided eye contact. It was an old habit, one that had come from before she got sick. And now when people didn’t look her in the eyes it was because they were scared. Scared or embarrassed for her, embarrassed to be around her.

“Miss?” He implored, taking another step towards her. “Your watch?”

He held out the item for her to take and Reya took a step back. She didn’t want contact with anyone, much less a stranger she’d met on the street at night. It wouldn’t take longer than a few minutes for him to notice something was wrong. To see her sickness.

Reya turned away, brushing off his polite offer. “I don’t have a watch,” she said, continuing on home to her flat.

Prompt #11

The Prompt: Let me tell you a lie.

The first time I told a lie I was six. I’d just broken my grandmother’s favorite vase playing Frisbee with my brother in the house even though we were both old enough to know better. He scrammed and left me to take the blame so I did what any child would have done. I smiled at her innocently and blamed the dog.

Or maybe the first lie I told was when I was four. I was plenty old enough to eat my own food, but refused to eat anything green. Carrots were fine, green gummy bears were not. It had nothing to do with texture or health, I just hated the color green. So when my dad came home and asked if I’d been good and eaten all my veggies, I did what any self respecting four year old would have done. I gave him a big hug and told him of course I had.

But that might not be right either. What if the first lie I told was when I was twelve and for the first time failed a test. The teacher asked me why and I wasn’t about to tell her I’d been online with my friends the whole night before so I smiled innocently and told her I’d studied an hour a night for the previous week.

But is any of that important? Does it matter if I was four or six or twelve? Does the when matter? I did it, I lied. That’s all that is important. Or is the why also important? That I lied to get out of trouble, for my own good, to make people view me better. I don’t need those excuses anymore. A good lie can be for any reason at all.

None of this matters to you. You aren’t here to listen to the story of my lies. That doesn’t interest you. You’re here for a story. To be entertained. So here’s my story.

I was fourteen. A normal fourteen year old with normal fourteen year old friends. And then my life changed suddenly when my friend died in a car crash, hit by a drunk driver going home from school one evening. Everything turned upside down. Everything that felt good and right disappeared.

She was gone. She left a hole in my world. Nothing fit anymore. The puzzle that was my life wasn’t only missing a piece, but it seemed as though it had been reshaped. Tragedies like that happen all over the world, but they aren’t supposed to happen to you. Never in your life.

But they do. And nothing’s ever right again. It changes you, changes the way you view the world. Maybe that’s what made me the way I am.

Only that’s not entirely true. It wasn’t my friend, it was my sister. She was closer to my heart than anyone else in the world. She was my closest confidante and my best friend. We told each other everything. Except her one secret. She was unhappy and never told me even though I told her everything.

She took her own life and I never knew, never suspected. My own sister and closest friend and I didn’t have a clue. It broke my heart. Changed me forever.

Did you like that? Feel any tugs on your heart strings? Entertaining enough for your liking?  Were you invested in my life and my story, perhaps? I thought it might have more impact if I switched it from my friend to my sister. Was I right? Did it add more to my sob story? My poor sister. It could have even been true if I weren’t an only child.

I’m sorry, am I toying with your emotions? Do you not like being manipulated into feeling for me and my lies? Then why did you continue reading? I’m a liar. Lying is what I do. You knew that from the first sentence. I’m probably the most honest liar in the world. And you kept reading anyway. Doesn’t that say more about you than it does about me?

Think about that while you sit there feeling judging me. You want to be lied to, to hear the stories. You just don’t like the liars.

Prompt #10

The Prompt: “I never promised that life would be happy. All I promised was that you would never die.”

She stared at him impassively. She no longer cried. All the pain she felt and he had taken away her tears. Taken away her everything. “Death would be a blessing now,” she said, staring just past his shoulder. She never had the courage to speak frankly to his face. Eye contact with those bottomless pits left her too sick and terrified to continue.

He laughed cruelly and reached out with one long finger to run along her cheek. Shila stood still, refusing to flinch away from his touch. “A blessing?” He let out a high pitched laugh and she couldn’t stand it anymore, she had to move away.

Shila took a step back, her arms raised for protection. They would do no good if he chose to hurt her, but it was instinctual. “You tricked me, lied to me.”

“I never lied,” he said almost playfully. Even though she wasn’t looking, Shila knew he was grinning at her. They’d had this conversation before. “Would you like to reread the contract? You’ll find that I’ve broken none of the clauses, and in fact forgiven you the few times you did.”

She ignored this. “I thought you were here to help!” Emotion broke in her voice and that surprised even herself. She’d grown cold in the years since their agreement, since she signed the contract in her own blood.

“I don’t help anyone but myself,” he said. “You know this.”

She knew it now. If there was one thing Shila could do, she’d go back in time. Go back to when she was fifteen and slicing open her arm to sign the contract in blood. She’d tell herself how things would end up, how she was ruining her life with that one signature.

It was a stupid desire though. Even if she managed to find her younger self, nothing would change. She hadn’t listened to anyone when she was fifteen and hurting. A future version of herself wouldn’t have had any more luck than her peers or mentors, the people who at one point considered her a friend.

She was too wrapped up in her own personal drama and hatred of the world to take notice of anyone else’s thoughts or feelings. Which was how he had found her. He had preyed upon her weakness, offered her a way out and a way to hurt people who had hurt her.

But he ended up being the one who had hurt her the most.

Shila’s form grew still as she breathed shallowly. This time she raised her eyes to meet the holes where his eyes should have been. Those oceans of darkness stared back at her unblinking. “I trusted you,” she said, her voice hardly louder than a whisper. “I trusted you and you betrayed me.”

“Darling,” he said, his voice a slow drawl. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you trusting the devil was a dangerous thing to do?”

Prompt #9

The Prompt: All you ever need to know in life: don’t get caught.

It was this Reya reminded herself as she passed by the baker’s stand in the market place. There were too many guards around, one of them would spot her for sure. She couldn’t risk even grabbing a single loaf or roll. One of them would see.

She passed by, basket tucked under her arm and head ducked low. It wouldn’t do for one of them to see her. Being recognized would lead to being caught. Hardly anyone looked twice at a small ten year old walking the streets, but get too close to a cart and they’d notice for sure. Being branded a thief would get her arrested.

Don’t get caught.

Reya dumped the rocks out of her basket when she returned to her family’s small home. Her mother was out as she often was, even at this early hour of the morning and Reya turned to her two younger siblings who were huddled in the corner.

Asa, still only four, was in her bedclothes from the night before. Claro who was two years older had managed to dress himself, but the shirt was too large. Hanging down past his knees it looked more like a dress than anything else.

Reya sighed as she looked at the two of them. They were all small for their ages, underfed and used to looking after themselves. “Didya get somethin’ fer us?” Claro asked, eyeing the basket hungrily.

Reya drew the basket close to her body. She didn’t want them to see how empty it was. She hadn’t been able to bring back anything, not even some bread or rotten vegetables. The guards at the market had tripled and the last week’s pickings had been lean.

“I-” She began before laying eyes on Asa. Asa’s fist was in her mouth, hungrily sucking on it with wide eyes. Reya’s voice caught in her throat. She couldn’t let her baby sister go hungry. Not when she looked like that. “I’ll be back,” she promised, stumbling backwards out the door. She had to find something, no matter the cost.

Don’t get caught.

It was the mantra she’d been taught years ago when she was hardly Asa’s age. Jian taught her everything she knew. He’d been four years older, the same difference in age as she and Claro. He’d been the one to show her how to steal and put food on the table for her family.

He would have advised her not to return to the market.

Don’t get caught.

“Jian isn’t here,” she muttered to herself as she hurried down the dusty road. He’d disappeared one day, went out and never came back home. Everyone assumed he ran away to the capital to look for a better life and Reya promised herself never to forgive him. He should have been there, helping her feed Claro and Asa.

But he wasn’t. He wasn’t there and she had to do this. With every instinct screaming to stop what she was doing, Reya entered the marketplace again. This time she twitched, feeling as though every guard and vendor would know her face after having been there only an hour before.

No one said a word, but Reya felt watched. She pushed the feeling away and continued down the road to the lesser watched carts. There had to be something easy within reach, some roots or a loaf of bread. Anything.

Don’t get caught.

Finally she reached the baker’s cart. His back was turned, dealing with a customer who had coins to pay with. It almost seemed too easy. Before she could stop herself, Reya reached out and grabbed a small loaf situated in the shadows. It wasn’t very large, the type of thing she’d have bought if she had the money to buy things.

She slid the loaf under the cloth of her basket and turned to dart away, running into something hard and solid in front of her.

The guard gripped her arm tightly before she could dart off and Reya flinched in fear. She’d never had a run in with a guard before. Once a shopkeeper had seen her run off with some of his food, but never a guard.

She bit her lip to keep from screaming. It would only draw more attention to what was happening and she didn’t need everyone to see her taken in.

“Filthy little thief, think you wouldn’t get caught?” Reya struggled against him, but it was no use. The guard was easily three times her size.

“Let me go!” Her only hope was that he would take pity on her- or more likely feel too lazy to turn her in to the magistrate.

“You oughta get a hand lopped off for that one, mongrel,” he said, his voice low and cruel. None of the passerby’s took notice of the two of them in the road. Thieves were arrested all the time, it did them no good to intervene. “Mayhap you’ll get a kind magistrate who’ll give you your druthers,” the guard continued, causing a shiver to go down Reya’s spine. “Which hand do you need more? The right or the left?”

Startled, Reya glanced up and met the guard’s eyes. She stared in shock at his face. It was Jian. A slightly aged Jian, but it was Jian nonetheless. Jian’s blue eyes and fair hair, Jian’s crooked tooth, Jian’s-

But the guard was too old to be Jian. He was at least in his early twenties, Jian was only four years older than her. And he wouldn’t ever be a guard. Ever.

Don’t get caught.

When Reya blinked, the guard’s face was different. He still had blue eyes and fair hair, but his cheekbones were different. His tooth wasn’t crooked. In fact, he bore little resemblance to Jian at all. Jian always had a smile on his face, ready to charm anyone, though he was always serious when it came to stealing.

Don’t get caught.

It had been her mantra. It was the one promise Jian made her keep. Whatever you do, don’t get caught. She’d let him down. Let everyone down. Claro and Asa were expecting her back home, they needed her back home. If anything happened to them it would be her fault.

Don’t get caught.

Prompt #8

The Prompt: Siren’s Song

The sailor stood at the railing, his feet braced against the swaying of the ship and hands spread far apart as he listened to the wind.

It almost seemed to be calling him. He had abandoned his post on the crow’s nest to get closer to the sea, for some reason he felt drawn to it. The briny saltwater sprayed his face and the droplets cooled him, settling on the heated leathery skin of his face.

But it still wasn’t enough. The surface of the ocean lay many feet below. No matter how far he strained, he was always too far away to feel the full effect of the ocean’s power. Entranced, the sailor leaned over the rail, eyes closed, letting his other senses take control for the time being.

The salty smell wafted through his nose and the song grew louder in his mind. It wasn’t real music, but rather a call. A summoning.

His fingers reached for the water, feeling the spray of the wave dampen his fingers. A sudden thought struck him. It would take nothing more than simply pulling himself over the railing and he could immerse himself in the waves.

He could become one with the ocean.

The sailor had half a mind to do that when a sharp call interrupted him. “Oi! You there! What’re you doin’ away from yer post?”

In an instant, his senses came back and he pulled away from the railing. The song in his mind muted until he could focus fully on the other man’s words. “I er- heard somethin’ on deck.”

“You don’ leave yer post for nothing, hear me boy?” The older man asked roughly. “’Specially at night in these parts. You’d do best to climb back up to yer nest and stay there.”

“Yessir,” the sailor said. Then he paused. Something about the words sounded strange. “These parts?”

“There’re tales of men doin’ strange things ‘round here.” The man scowled at the boy then continued back into his cabin. “Watch your step, boy.”

As the man disappeared back into the depths of the ship, the sailor was left once again alone with the ocean and his own thoughts. Heeding the man’s warning, he walked away from the edge and began the long climb up to the crow’s nest.

The song, silenced by the confrontation with another human, remained quiet in his mind. Though he was once again on his own, the only sounds he heard were the gentle slapping of the waves against the hull of the ship.

The yearning to be a part of the ocean was gone. He was alone in his mind.

Prompt #7

The Prompt: “Hold still, I’m trying to kill you.”

Effie sighed as she leaned against the frame of the bed, craning her neck so Paul could wrap his hands around it. He kept them around the base, closer to her shoulders than her actual neck, but it still gave Effie the shivers. It felt strange to subject herself to this multiple times every afternoon.

“This is supposed to be a passionate scene, you two!” A voice interrupted them and a tall thin balding man stalked down the aisle of the auditorium. “Passion! Anger! Fighting for your life! You- Desdemona, you’ve just been accused of something you’d never do and now you’re being killed for it. Why do you look so bored?”

Effie rolled her eyes and Paul disentangled his hands from her hair. “Sorry,” she muttered, easily jumping off the bed.

“And you, Othello! You’ve been betrayed! Show us that pain! We want to feel your pain!” He sounded so excited that Effie just wanted to walk off the stage in frustration. She liked acting, being on the stage in front of so many people, but they’d been hearing the same things from Davies for months in rehearsal.

“It’s hard to act all impassioned when she’s so resistant to me getting close to her,” Paul whined.

Effie scowled at him. He didn’t have to throw her under the bus because he was a crap actor. “You try being strangled sometime,” she snapped, eyes blazing. “It’s rather difficult to look like you’re fighting for your life and keep your neck at just the right angle so you can grab me.”

“Well you knew this scene was in the play when you auditioned,” Paul shot back. “Don’t take the part if you can’t do the work.”

Effie huffed at him. He didn’t have to pretend to be strangled to death a dozen times every evening. “Well maybe I should just quit now, would that make you happy?” She asked scathingly. She was tired of having to deal with this every single night after school. She loved acting, but this was something more akin to torture.

“You can’t quit,” Davies protested, looking scandalized. “We open next weekend!”

“Well I don’t want to be strangled anymore,” Effie said, wiping her eyes and sniffling. A few tears slipped down her cheeks as she stalked out of the auditorium.

She heard Davies on the stage as she left, frantically calling for her understudy in the wings. Effie knew the freshman didn’t have her lines memorized, let alone the blocking. She’d get a phone call later that night begging her to come back. It wasn’t going to happen, though. She was done with the theater. It was all too much to handle.

As the double doors slammed shut behind her in a dramatic exit, Effie drowned out all sound from the stage. It was as though that part of her life had closed with those doors. Two girls walking down the hallway giggled at her and Effie refused to make eye contact. They could probably tell she’d already quit. Her fall from the school’s social ladder was beginning.

She didn’t wipe the tears from her face and instead hurried toward her car in the parking lot. Her hair whipped behind her rather dramatically and the tears only added to her image. Effie knew she looked good, but she didn’t think twice about it.

Her older brother Patrick was waiting by the car, smoking a cigarette. Effie scrunched her nose up at the smell. “That’s a disgusting habit,” she said. He was always smoking.

Patrick snorted. “Want one?”

Effie almost shook her head out of habit, but then thought about it. She’d quit acting, didn’t have to worry about the smoke damaging her vocal cords anymore. There was no real reason to say no. “Sure.”

Patrick turned the car on and offered her both cigarette and lighter. “So you quit again?”

“I quit for good!”

“Sure you did,” he replied. “Right up until they call you tonight and request that you return. Then you’ll change your mind again and burst into tears and I’ll have to pick you up from rehearsal tomorrow.” Patrick raised an eyebrow at her. “Acting’s what you do, Ef. It’s in your blood. You’re just a little drama queen.”

“Shut it,” she snapped turning away from him to scowl out the window. “I’m done.”

“Fine,” Patrick said as he laughed a bit. “Put down the window so I don’t have to hear to freak out about smoke inhalation and your vocal cords later.”

Effie considered arguing because she really was done with theater this time, but decided not to. Putting up a fight was simply too much work after the awful night she’d had. She rolled down the window and Patrick let out a loud guffaw. Effie huffed and determinedly stared out the window. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of arguing.

But she really was finished this time.

Prompt #6

The Prompt: Terror in the night

She woke up, her throat raw from screaming and entangled in her sheets. Eileen struggled for a moment, freeing herself from the suffocating blankets. They fell to the floor softly and she pulled herself up, glancing around the room in fear.

Shadows played across the walls and Eileen continued to breathe heavily, even as she reminded herself of where she was. Her dorm room. Everything was fine. It was a new place, but it was nothing to be frightened of. Everything was fine.

The light flicked on and Eileen winced. She’d screamed. Again. At this rate Hadley was going to switch rooms before the first month had passed. “You okay?” Her roommate asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

Eileen’s face burned. She knew she looked awful, sweaty and shaking and huddled terrified in the corner of her bed, blankets thrown on the ground in a fit of fear. Using every bit of self control she had Eileen pried herself from the bed frame and deposited her linens on a pile in the center of her bed. Making the bed was beyond her, though, so she just left them there.

“I’ll- yeah. Fine. I’m just going to head down to- yeah,” she mumbled incoherently.

Hadley gave her a small smile and lay back down in bed. She’d grown used to the nightmares after being awakened by Eileen more nights than not. “If you say so. Turn off the light on your way out, would you?”

Eileen nodded and flipped the switch as she hurried down the hall to the bathroom. At three in the morning even the late night partiers were mostly in bed, passed out or simply exhausted after classes. For this Eileen was grateful. The bathroom had become her safe haven in the early hours of the morning.

She sank down against the cool tile, letting her head rest against it. Eileen’s frame began to shake again as her walls crumbled and the true terror set in. This night had been worse than most. At least she usually knew what scared her so much about the dreams- nightmares. There was some detail she remembered.

But there was nothing. Not a whisper, not a hint. Just that feeling of utter fear as she awoke.

The nightmares were like panic attacks. They’d only started once college began and Eileen had to move in with her new roommate. The first night it had happened she’d been mortified. Now she just kept hoping they would go away.

Eileen felt her body slowly begin to still as the sheer panic left, but she was far from fine. It took several more minutes and all the strength in her body to stand up and stumble over towards the sinks. She glanced in the mirror and immediately turned away.

She didn’t need to see her bloodshot eyes or the dark shadows that circled them. She knew they were there. The reminder just made things worse.

Instead Eileen splashed water on her face and let the cold droplets wash away the last feelings of fear. Everything would be fine now that she was awake. The nightmares only came when she was sleeping, leaving her waking hours free to focus on schoolwork. It was only just before bed she began to feel anxious.

Because she couldn’t spend forever in the bathroom, Eileen finally emerged. She didn’t have a choice to go anywhere but back to her room and hoped that Hadley would be asleep by the time she got there. The worst nights were when Hadley tried to talk to her about the nightmares. The only thing worse than being scared was being so humiliated, although sometimes after just waking up Eileen didn’t think there was a worse feeling in the world.

The light was still off when she opened the door and she let out a soft sigh of relief. She really wasn’t in the mood to deal with any kinds of probing questions. They just made things so much worse. Her relationship with Hadley was already awkward enough.

Even though sleeping wasn’t a possibility, Eileen curled up on her bed with a textbook. The least she could was use the next few hours to be productive.

A soft rustling drew her attention after hardly getting through the first page, though. Hadley must have been awake after all.

“You awake?” Hadley asked from across the dark room.

“For a while,” Eileen replied, although she never fell asleep after her nightmares.

“If you ever want to talk-”

“I know,” Eileen said, her face flushing despite the dark room. “You’re there.”

“I mean it,” Hadley said, sounding sincere. “I’m not just going to switch out and leave you alone.”

Eileen winced. Being alone might actually be better than sharing a room, but the thought was nice at least. “Thanks,” she muttered, still feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t thank me,” Hadley responded. “We’ve all got stuff going on. You’re no different.”

Eileen wanted to argue, to say she was different, but she didn’t have the energy. On these particular nights she always felt drained of energy.

After some more rustling, Hadley let out a small sigh. “Night,” she said, her voice muffled.

Eileen nodded. “Good night.” At least Hadley was understanding, if nothing else.

Prompt #5

The Prompt: Sometimes I wonder about you.

Where you are, what you’re doing. It’s been two months since I last saw you, nearly eight since we last spoke. No, don’t worry. I wasn’t following you around. I haven’t resorted to that yet. I saw you as I was driving by a girl’s party. Her name was Lana, I think? She had been one of your friends before we started going out.

I won’t lie, it hurts to see you with her again. I imagine you laughing at her jokes, letting her sling her arm around your shoulders. It’s like a burning coal of jealousy in the pit of my stomach. It’s wrong, I know, but it hurts to see you with someone else when you could have been with me.

Six whole months. It’s a long time to go without you, D. I never thought I would survive this long without you. It was my fault, I know, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. In some ways it hurts more than if you had fallen out of love with me. It hurts to know that you’re out there, maybe still with feelings for me, but you refuse to come back.

I’ll keep my promises this time. I will. I’ll do anything to get you back.

It’s been twenty months since you broke up with me the first time. I thought I was going to die then and there. You broke my heart and it felt like the rest of me was shattered as well. When you came back to me it was the happiest I’d ever felt.

I’m sorry for screwing things up again. I’m sorry for letting you down. Please take me back. I’ll be anything you want this time.

Twenty nine months since I met you. That was the best day of my life. I first saw you in class that first day you came to school. You were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. I could tell you were embarrassed by the way the teacher made you introduce yourself. I was pretty pissed on your behalf, but I think I forgave him when he made you sit by me.

That class became my favorite. I fell in love with you before you even knew my first name. I don’t think you ever knew how long my feelings had lasted. To you I was just the guy you sat next to in class, I knew that.

But when we became more it felt as though my heart would burst. And the night you told me you loved me, just less than twenty three months ago, was the night I gave my full heart to you. I’ll never love another girl like I do you. You’ve taken it with you, D. I’d say you stole it, but I gave it to you willingly.

How did things turn out like this? How did we go from head over heels in love to over?

No, I don’t expect you to answer that. I know what you would say all too well. And I’m sorry. Have I mentioned that before? I’m so incredibly sorry. I never intended to hurt you. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I just got so jealous when you spent more time with your friends than me.

I love you, D. Why can’t you understand that everything I did I did out of love?

But I was wrong. I know that now. I loved you too much and you needed your space. You deserve better than me, but it’s hard when all I want is you.

Two months since I last saw you and those have been the hardest two months of my life. I never realized how empty my life was before you were in it and now all I can think of is how much worse the pain is now that you’re gone.

I love you with every fiber of my being. How did that turn out so wrong?

There’s nothing I can say to fix what we had. That’s over. You made it clear the last time we spoke that I was never to come near you again. I’m sorry for that, for that and so much else. Where did I go wrong? All I wanted was for you to love me as much as I loved you. I never meant to hurt you, to do those things to you.

Sometimes when your soft skin was marked I could hardly look at you. I never told you how much it hurt to see you that way. It wasn’t you I couldn’t stand to see, it was what I had done to you. How I had marred your perfect beauty and turned you into my own ugly creation.

It was never my intention to hurt you.

Sometimes I wonder about you, D. Do you still dream about me? I used to love when you told me all of your dreams and had me help interpret them. Am I still a comforting figure in them? Or am I the dark shadow man that makes you wake up in the middle of the night in terror?

I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for so much that you’ll never know because I was never able to explain. The more I hurt you, the more I hurt myself. It was self destructive. But I love you more than words can say.

After everything that’s happened, D, I still love you.

Prompt #4

The Prompt: His favorite table was, of course, occupied by some girl.

Andrew sighed as he waited in line for his lunch. That was his table. He always sat there, alone. Other people weren’t supposed to be at his table. He grabbed his food from the woman in the cafeteria with a scowl and surveyed the lunch room.

Very few tables remained empty. Most of his classmates had already spread out across their own tables. Technically there were no assigned seats, but everyone sat in the same places every day.

So Andrew turned back to his own table. The girl sat there with her lunch box, a book spread across the table in front of her. The table was pushed against the wall and half the size of the regular tables which was how he’d been able to claim it for himself. But now this girl was there. Didn’t she know the unwritten rule of the cafeteria? Find your seat in the first week and stay there.

No one moved from their seat past the first week, not unless it was prearranged. So what was this girl doing at his table?

Seeing no other choice, Andrew made his way slowly to the table. Maybe the girl wouldn’t talk to him, maybe she would just keep reading her book. There were three seats on each side of the table and Andrew slid into the one closest to the wall. The girl was sitting on the opposite side in the middle seat. It was small enough that his tray was practically touching her lunchbox.

She didn’t say a word, so Andrew continued his lunch ritual, occasionally sending a dirty look her way. Maybe she would get the message. He pulled out his iPod and jammed in his headphones. The girl didn’t leave, but at least she didn’t talk.

But just as Andrew was bringing the burger up to his mouth, she broke the silence. “I’m Laura,” she said, pushing her book off to the side and sliding down a seat so she was sitting across from Andrew. “Hi.”

Andrew’s eyebrows drew together in a fixed scowl. He spent lunch listening to his music. At his table. Alone. Spending the period with some girl didn’t appeal to him in any way whatsoever. Instead of responding, he took a bite out of his hamburger and continued as though his music was so loud he hadn’t heard her speak. Or seen her move.

After a moment her smile fell and the girl- Laura her name was- slid back over into her seat. She opened her book up again and Andrew let out a small sigh of relief. Even if she was there he could at least suffer through his lunch in silence. And he’d have the table to himself tomorrow.

The next day at lunch, the girl was sitting at his table. Again. Andrew groaned and snapped at the lunch lady when she passed him his tray. This time he looked around the cafeteria more closely for another table, but it was raining so even the students who usually sat outside were filling the tables.

There was hardly a free seat anywhere, let alone a whole table. Even more slowly than the previous day, he made his way to the table. The girl had a new book today, a textbook Andrew recognized as one of his own from the previous year. Brilliant, she was a seventh grader. Practically a kid.

This time she looked up before he even managed to put his tray down. “Hi!” She said excitedly. This time she was sitting across from where Andrew had been the day before.

Andrew set his tray down in the middle seat. He didn’t like sitting on the end. Too many people walked by, bumping into his chair and backpack. Andrew frowned at the girl. He knew her name, but that didn’t matter. Especially not when she was just some random seventh grader.

“Hey,” he muttered sullenly, not making eye contact. He didn’t want to encourage her presence at his table every day.

“I’m Laura,” she said, undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm. She slid down a seat to sit across from him just as Andrew was pulling out his iPod. “I’m new in town. My Dad got a job here and stuff so we just arrived last week. What’s your name?”

“None of your business,” he growled.  He put the headphones on hoping she would get the message and leave him alone.

“Well hi!” Laura flashed him a smile, but Andrew didn’t return it. Instead he went back to his music and started eating his lunch.

Laura waited for a few minutes, but after seeing that Andrew was decidedly not talking to her, she moved back to her own food and book with a sigh.

Lunch for the rest of the week went like that. Every day Laura tried to make some sort of conversation with Andrew and every day he rebuffed her. After a while he began to think that she didn’t get the hint. She continued to sit at his table despite his attempts to push her away.

It became routine for Andrew to check his table to see if he was going to finally get it alone, but after a while he gave up and accepted that she’d be there. Until she wasn’t.

It was more than a week after she’d first been at his table and she wasn’t there. For a moment Andrew stood with his tray, staring at the empty seats. She was probably just late. Students always stayed late to talk to teachers or see their friends. She’d show up in a few minutes for sure.

He settled into a chair and took out his music, but didn’t play it yet. There was no point in starting it if he was only going to have to pause it when Laura arrived and began to annoy him. By the time the bell rang, Laura still hadn’t showed up, but Andrew packed up his lunch and left anyway.

She didn’t come the next day or even the day after that, but on Friday she was sitting at the table as though she’d never been gone.

Andrew sighed, annoyed. He didn’t like having company at lunch. It was his time for solitude and peace where he didn’t have to deal with the rest of the idiots that attended the school.

But when he sat down at the table, Laura didn’t look up from her book. Her hair covered her face and she didn’t even acknowledge Andrew’s presence. For a moment he waited for her to say something before sitting down, but she kept quiet.

Finally he sat, shooting her an odd look that she didn’t notice. She looked odd with her shoulders hunched over and her turtle neck pulled up as high as it would go, despite the fact that it was relatively warm in the cafeteria.

“Er hey,” Andrew ventured, before realizing that he didn’t want to talk to her. This silence was just what he craved.

She grunted at him and Andrew frowned before going back to his food. It seemed strange that she would act so differently after a few days. It was what he wanted of course, but it was still strange.

After he finished his food, Laura still hadn’t said a word to him or opened her mouth at all. He didn’t even think that she’d flipped the page, she was just staring at the same spot without moving her eyes.

“Hey,” Andrew said again, sliding down a seat to sit across from her.

Laura glanced up, but her hair still mostly shielded her from view. “Hi,” she said, her voice quiet and trembling.

“Er-“ Andrew didn’t know what to say. He’d never talked to a girl before, not really. “You um haven’t been in school for a while,” he said awkwardly.

“I was sick,” Laura said and her voice stayed quiet. She glanced up at Andrew and he saw the dark circles under her eyes. She certainly didn’t look well. “Dad wanted me to stay home. He’s- overprotective.” There was a brief pause before she said overprotective, but Andrew took little notice of it.

He did notice when the neck of her sweater slipped briefly and a dark purplish mark showed. His eyes stuck to it and widened noticeably. Laura jerked the neck back up and her face flushed. Andrew wasn’t stupid, he knew what it was. He’d seen people get bruises before. And she had been at home for a long time.

But the pleading in her eyes looked desperate. And he didn’t know what to do anyway. Was he supposed to tell? He couldn’t tell when she stared at him like that. And tell what exactly? It was only a bruise.

“My name’s Andrew,” he said finally. “Hi.”

Prompt #3

The Prompt: It was not the birthday gift I was expecting.

I let my hands fall to my sides in surprise as I stared at Elliot beneath me. The smile on his face was so sincere and confident, as though this couldn’t go wrong. As though everything was going according to plan.

This wasn’t in the plan, not mine at least. I needed my own space. We’d only just graduated together last year. I couldn’t go from school to him so quickly.

My mouth opened and closed, but I couldn’t get any words out. What was I supposed to say? Should I be blunt? Let him down easy? And in front of everybody?

I glanced up at my friends and my sister. They watched me expectantly, more silent than I’d ever seen them before. Not one of them squealed or whispered or even giggled. They were all waiting breathlessly for my answer. Only Amie looked hesitant. Her eyes were down in her lap and she refused to meet my gaze.

If there was one person I could have chosen to speak to in that moment, it would have been her. It should have been her here instead of me. I’d known she had a thing for Elliott when we started dating, but I hadn’t ever expected things to go so far.

“Get up,” I finally managed, my voice hoarse.

He grinned at me and shook his head, remaining on the single knee. “I think the rules are I’ve got to wait until you give me an answer. Marry me?” The diamond glistened invitingly in the small velvet box he held up to me.

This should be something I didn’t have to think about. This should be instinct. And it was. I knew my answer immediately, it was just the wrong answer. I had the perfect guy bent down on one knee begging me to marry him and all I wanted to do was vomit.

“Stand up,” I whispered. This time he obeyed, but the stupid smile didn’t go away. He had no idea what I was thinking. “Can we go outside?”

“Ooh, outside,” Payton teased as we headed for the door. Any other time I would have scowled at her for the implication, but I didn’t bother. She was the least of my problems. I heard the other girls giggle and I assumed she had winked at them.

Outside Elliott tried to take my hand, interlocking his fingers with my own. I almost tore my hand away, not wanting to lead him on further. This was the first time his confidence seemed to falter. “What’s wrong, Bee?” He asked. “Don’t you know what you’re going to say?”

The way he asked it made my skin crawl. As if there was no other answer. As if I didn’t have another choice. “And what if I don’t?”

“Are you serious?” He asked incredulously.

I took a step back. Confrontations always made me queasy. If I’d some preparation for this maybe I would have been okay, but it was so out of the blue. I hadn’t even suspected he might do this. “It’s so soon,” I said, deciding honesty would be best. “We haven’t even been out of school for a year. I’m just twenty two- twenty three!”

“But why wait if something’s right?” Elliott asked, his face confused.

I glanced to the side, not meeting his questioning gaze.

“You don’t think we’re right, do you?” He demanded.

I shook my head. “It’s not that, it’s just- we’re so- this isn’t supposed to happen.” I sighed. I never was good with words when it came to people. There wasn’t anything concrete to tell them, you just made it up as you went along. I didn’t like making things up.

“You don’t think this is right,” Elliott said, shaking his head. “Two years of our lives together and you don’t think I’m worth a simple yes?”

“It’s not that simple.” I tried to defend myself, but I didn’t know what to say. Maybe things weren’t right between us. Maybe it was him, maybe it was me, but marriage? It just seemed too crazy to comprehend. Weren’t we still kids? We just graduated from college yesterday it seems, and high school the day before that. Heck, where did middle school go?

“All this time we’ve spent together and you still think I’m not good enough for you.” He scowled at me, his face twisted into an ugly sneer. “That’s great, Bee. Real great.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I protested, but he was already walking off.

“You know what?” He asked, spinning to fix me with a nasty glare. “You always think you’re better than everyone. So just screw it, let’s have it your way! Call this thing we have over and you’ll never have to see me again.”

I didn’t know what to say to make him feel better or explain what I meant. I knew I should have said something, but nothing in my arsenal of words and phrases seemed to fit this situation.

So I let him walk away.

It took me several very long minutes to gather up the courage to go back into my birthday party. I knew they’d all have questions. They’d be annoyed. They’d want to know why I turned down a proposal from a guy as great as Elliott, because he was a great guy.

The room silenced as I walked in and they all stared at me. I could feel them silently judging me before Peyton finally broke the awkward stillness. “Where’s Elliott?”

I shrugged. “Can’t you guess?” I snapped. Maybe it was a little harsh, but I wasn’t in the best of moods.

“Sorry,” Peyton said quietly.

I sighed heavily. I didn’t want her pity. I didn’t want the looks the rest of the girls were giving. I couldn’t even glance in Amie’s direction. Elliott was her friend. She’d liked him, loved him even, for all these years, even before he started dating me. What kind of friend was I to do something like that?

All of a sudden I felt awful. I wanted to throw up rather than celebrate. It was my twenty third birthday, how had this turned into such a mess?

“You want to cut the cake?” Ty asked cautiously.

“Why don’t you guys just leave,” I suggested. “I want to be alone.”

There were a few quiet protests, but Peyton quieted them down and ushered everyone out. I sank into a chair. This was supposed to be a day of celebration, my official birthday out of school. How had I managed to screw things up so royally?

“Bee? You okay?” A small voice asked. I jolted at the sound of someone else. I’d thought I was alone. Soft footsteps padded around my chair and Amie sat on the sofa across from me. “I don’t think I’ve seen you like this before,” she said after a moment of silence.

“What’s it to you?” I asked, knowing it was mean the moment it came out of my mouth. It didn’t seem I particularly cared about anyone’s feelings anymore. “You probably hate me now. You and Elliott-”

But Amie shook her head. “Don’t make this about me. You look sad.”

I turned away. I wasn’t worried about crying, but I didn’t like being sad. And I didn’t like that Amie knew I was sad. “I’m fine,” I said bitterly. “Just ruined the only real relationship I’ve ever been in. I’m doing brilliant.”

“It’s okay to cry if you want,” Amie said.

I snorted. Mostly I just wanted to wake up and realize this day was all a bad dream. “God, what made him propose? Did you know that was coming? It was- oh god. Out of nowhere.”

“He’s in love with you,” Amie said with a shrug. “People want to show that they love you.”

“Was,” I corrected, feeling it really sink in. “He was in love with me.” I seriously doubt he was anymore.

“Maybe,” she said and opened her mouth to continue, but the phone cut her off. We both stared at it as it rang.

Once.

Twice.

“Are you going to get that?”

“It’s probably my parents,” I said. Wanting to wish me a happy birthday, no doubt. Unless- Unless Elliott had asked Dad for his permission. “Oh no, what if they know?”

Three times.

The panicked expression must have shown in my eyes because Amie reached out and put her hand on my arm. “You don’t have to answer it now. Talk to them another time.”

Four.

I’d never screened a call from my parents before. I wasn’t that kind of girl. We had a good relationship, especially now that I wasn’t living at home. “Can I?”

Five.

“Leave it, Bee. They’ll be fine.” I nodded and we waited.

Six.

Seven.

Finally a sense of peace settled over me as the answering machine clicked on. I wouldn’t be able to avoid them forever, but for now at least they didn’t need to know. For now I could keep things to myself. “Everything’s going to be fine, Bee,” Amie said.

I wasn’t sure if this was exactly true, but I nodded anyway. Amie was always a good friend to have in a crisis. “Now come sit beside me,” she said, patting the cushion on her left. “We can do nothing at all.”

I paused, then curled up beside Amie, drawing my knees to my chest. She put her arm around me without a word. Yes, Amie was definitely a good friend to have in a crisis.

Something Random

Prompt Three: I cheated and didn’t use a prompt on this one. It’s just something that begged to be written.

You stare deep into his eyes. “What about me? Aren’t I important to you?” It’s the answer you’ve been trying to get out of him for months it seems. You want to know. No- you need to know. It’s what keeps you up at night, worrying and fretting.

“Course you are,” he says, his smile as easy as it’s always been.

You never know if he’s faking it or not. You’ve never faked anything, not around him. That’s why it hurts so much when all you want to do is tell the truth.

“I just don’t want to lose the guys,” he continues. “The team, they’re like my family.”

“And I’m not your family?” You ask.

He rolls his eyes and gives you a soft push. “Don’t be ridiculous!” He shakes his head and lays back on his bed, not even looking at you anymore. You know where this is going. You’ve seen the movies and read the books. They always take the same road. “You’re my best friend. And- and more.”

This admission draws your attention. He never says it out loud. He wouldn’t at all if you weren’t alone in his room, no chance of being caught or overheard. “More?” You ask, pushing for something else. You know it’s wrong, but you want him to say it. Make him define it so you don’t have to do it on your own.

He sighs and you know the conversations over. If you push harder then he’ll leave you. They always leave.

“Jay, I’m doing what I can.” He sounds so honest and sincere that you can’t walk out that door. You can’t leave him. He’ll always pull you back in. “This is harder for me. If people knew-” He cuts off. He doesn’t have to keep going. You know what he’s going to say.

If people knew they would shun him. He’d lose his team, the guys. He’d lose his family.

You don’t have anything left to lose except for him.

“I understand.”

“I just need time. After high school, maybe-” He stops again.

After high school. It seems so far away, you’re only juniors after all. You want to tell the world so he can be yours. You want to stop lying and sneaking around. “After high school,” you agree, although you don’t know if you can make it that long. High school seems to last forever.

“I promise this will get better, okay?” He says, sitting up and meeting your gaze. “I promise you.”

A lump rises in your throat. You want nothing more than to say it’s not enough. Walk out the door without looking back. You want something open and real. You don’t like to hide.

Instead you sit on the bed beside him and he puts his arm around your shoulders. “Give it time, Jay. I just need a little more time.”

You nod as he plants a kiss on your lips. You can’t take it further, not when his parents could be home any minute. “I can’t wait forever,” you say, although you both know it’s a lie. You’d wait forever for him if you had to.

The door downstairs slams and he pushes away from you, walking across the room to his desk where he can pretend he’s been doing his homework. You remember that you’re supposed to be tutoring him, it’s your excuse for being in his bedroom.

You pretend it doesn’t hurt when he leaves your side, but it’s harder to lie to yourself.

His mother opens the door to find the two of you seated at his desk exactly where you’re supposed to be. “Kyle, get ready to go to your game. We have to leave in a few minutes.”

He nods. “Sure, Mom.” The math book closes with a snap and in that instant your reason for sticking around longer has disappeared.

She smiles warmly at you. She wouldn’t if she knew what you were doing with her son behind closed doors. “James, it’s always lovely to have you here. Kyle’s grades have gotten so much better since you’ve been tutoring him.”

“Mom,” he groans, annoyed with the attention.

You look at him, waiting for some spark of acknowledgement that you mean something to him, but he only smiles at you in the same easy way he does everyone else. “See ya ‘round, James,” he says and you remember that he only calls you Jay in private. It’s your special name, something more to hide from the world.

“See you,” you repeat, leaving the room. You half expect him to stop you, give you a secret smile, something to remind you that your relationship isn’t all in your head. It’s got to be real.

But there’s nothing and you can hear his conversation with his mother continue. “He is such a nice boy,” she says. “You should have him around more often.”

“He’s just James,” Kyle says and you can feel your heart breaking.

Just James. No matter what he says to you in private, everywhere else you’re just James.

Prompt #2

The Prompt: I pushed past people, ignoring their complaints. I tripped and stumbled a couple of times, but righted myself. I could hear him shouting behind me, running to catch up.

I darted around the side of the building, panting hard. My heart beat fast in my chest as I tried to catch my breath. I could hear the sounds of the people talking and laughing as though nothing had happened.

Footsteps drew closer to where I was hiding and I held my breath, hoping it wasn’t him. He couldn’t have found me yet. A child’s laugh erupted from just a few yards away and I let out a sigh of relief. I was safe, for now.

I waited another few minutes and shakily pulled out my cell phone, texting Ike to come pick me up. I didn’t tell him what had happened because I knew he’d disapprove. I’d promised him more than once that all of this would stop. Maybe I’d even meant it at one point.

It felt like ages later before Ike arrived in his van. I could have walked in that time, but my legs were still shaking. I’d never had such a close call. My heart wouldn’t slow down and I was beginning to worry if that was normal.

I climbed in beside Ike and he frowned at me. “You alright?”

“Just bored,” I said flippantly, rolling my eyes. “There’s nothing to do in this stupid town.”

He shook his head. Ike never liked it when I complained about Seaside Haven. He’d moved here more recently than I had, but for some inconceivable reason he actually liked the place. “Whatever,” I muttered.

My heart was beginning to slow which was good because I didn’t know how much longer I could fake it to Ike.  He always seemed to know what I was thinking and feeling and lying to him was too difficult to make it worthwhile.

“What were you doing over at Juniper’s?” Ike asked, naming the flower shop he’d picked me up at. I was confused for a moment before I remembered that I’d run there after nearly being caught.

“Uh nothing. I was just bored and looking for something to do,” I lied. I didn’t know what else to say and made up for it by looking out the window. “Does everything here have to look identical?”

“Were you at the mall?” Ike asked. My face flushed a deep pink. He glanced over at me and scowled. “You were, weren’t you? I thought you were going to stop!”

I looked down at my lap, suddenly embarrassed. Ike was the only one who could do that to me. “It’s not what you think,” I muttered.

“So I’m not your getaway driver?” He snapped. I shook my head, although in reality that was exactly what he was. “This is great, Leah. You’ve practically turned me into a criminal as well.”

We rode the rest of the way in silence and once outside my house Ike slammed on the brakes. “Don’t call me again to bail you out. I’m not getting in trouble because of your little habit.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I turned away so he wouldn’t see them. “Like I need your help. I only called you because I was too lazy to walk.”

I didn’t have to turn around to know that Ike’s face was bright red with anger. The van took off with the wheels almost squealing and he was halfway down the road before I turned to look.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and stumbled into the house before I reached into my purse and pulled out the cause for this whole mess. Two pink sparkly butterfly earrings that I’d grabbed from a display shelf in the store.

I didn’t even have pierced ears.