Present Day

The Prompt: You still smell like my childhood.

You pick at a loose thread on your jeans while I watch. My head is down, ringing up a customer's order, but I keep my eyes on you through a curtain of hair. You look the same as you always did. Taller and stronger, but still the same. Your brown eyes stare lazily across the room and try as I might, I can't see what catches your attention. It certainly isn't me.

You take another step in line, coming ever closer and I hope you notice me. The idea is thrilling and butterflies flutter in my stomach. I take another peek, but you're still looking across the room so I take the opportunity to study you carefully. You're dressed for work, jeans and a t-shirt despite the heat. Your skin is a pale brown, tanned from your hours of work in the sun, but when you reach back to scratch your neck, I see the pale skin beneath your hem. The back of your neck is red and grass stains adorn your jeans.

I keep watching you until you reach the register. Then I duck my head down, embarrassed by my quiet observations. "A small coffee," you say, not bothering to look straight at me. I'm a nobody here, only the hands that supply coffee. "Black."

You still smell like my childhood. Freshly mowed grass. Antibacterial soap. Clean clothes. As you hand over the bills to pay, I notice the dirt under your fingernails. The smudges left on your shirt from wiping your hands. You're closer than you've been in years, yet you don't notice me. You're still staring off in the distance, a blank expression on your face. Tired and drawn. Your eyelids droop. You need the caffeine.

My hands tremble as I hand over your drink and your fingers graze mine, the slightest touch an electric shock, sending lightning through my veins. But it's over and I let go. "Thanks." You turn your back and before I have the chance to say a single word, you're out the door. You don't look back. I'm the one left staring after you, like always.

Damien

The Prompt: Write the same character twice- once to make someone like them, once to make them hate them.

It's in his eyes, his cool blue eyes, as he touches your cheek. You blush and want to turn away, but he's too close. He leans down, closing the gap. In this moment he becomes your everything, too close for you to see anything else. His lips graze yours softly, tenderly, before he pulls back. Your eyes open and you're only just aware that they were closed. His lips pull into a smile and his eyes light up. He leans in for another kiss, this time lingering. He's intoxicating. You feel drunk off his affection, wanting him to never stop, never let go. His lips pull away, but he stays close. They trace your jawline, your cheek, reaching your ear before he pauses, arms holding you to him.

"I love you."

~

His hand keeps a tight grip on your arm and his eyes flash angrily. You don't know what you did wrong, but you've paid for it over and over again, each time his fists met your stomach, chest, and back. You expect a foul word or insult to fly from his mouth. Instead he drops your arm and it falls limply to your side, nothing more than dead weight. You lean on the bed for support, pretending you quiver from exhaustion, not in fear of the man you love. A weight causes the bed to shift and you know it's him, but you don't look up. You can never face him after. His tender touch traces along your shoulders which you know will be mottled with bruises come morning. Then his lips meet your neck.

"I love you."

Don't Scream

The Prompt: Don’t scream.

It’s just a dream. It’s not real. A nightmare. Yes, it’s only a nightmare. You can survive a nightmare. In a few hours you’ll open your eyes, roll over in bed, and wake up to the light of a new morning. You’ll see. You’ll be fine.

So don’t scream.

The sheets tighten around you. You feel smothered. They’re suffocating you and you want to gasp out for air. Your lungs beg for oxygen and you want to comply, to fill them. Your hands clench around the blankets, clumps in your hands, but you still can’t breathe. Not without screaming.

Please don’t scream.

His hands on you, burning holes through your skin. You’d expect to see scars in the morning, if it weren’t a dream. He moves. His hand slides down your chest, past your waist. Your eyes are closed, but you squeeze them tighter. Push the nightmare away. Push him away.

Push away the scream.

His weight. It wants to crush you. Your bones feel fragile under him, as if one wrong move could shatter them, shatter you. You almost hope it happens. One fracture, one rib, that’s all it would take. If it’s the right one and you’re lucky. You wish, but you don’t dare to hope.

Don’t dare to scream.

Your head moves, but you didn’t move it. Your eyes flash open from the shock. His hand on your cheek. His eyes staring straight into yours. Dark. Bottomless. The kind of eyes the pull you in and tear your apart. Your mouth opens in fear and his hand moves, covers your lips. Smothers you. His rough voice in your ear.

“Don’t scream.”

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.

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.

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.