• DillyDallyVirtuoso

When in Doubt - Ctrl C+V

Hey, y'all. I know it's getting late, and I have been dying to get some of my work out there... and I guess this is what there means, *laughs nervously*. So, this is an excerpt of some prose I've been working on. It isn't so much as a puny novel as a glorified journal, but with some parts, well... as true as they need to be.

Okay, I need to send this out before I change my mind. The title is "Wanderlust".

“Avery,” I whispered, trying to force my lasery eyes into the back of his head. “Avery.”

“What, Eileen?” Avery turned to me, resting his feet up on the seat. There was an apologetic, rueful smile twisting up the corners of his mouth, wrinkling the edges of his hazel colored eyes. That same face knew me when I was in--what--elementary school, laughing with the rest of our group, which consisted of Harry Lawson and Jasmine Gokul. But there was something wrong. Something that didn’t hurt as much at the beginning, but slowly bore its roots into my soul and tried to shatter our collective friendship. Jasmine started to attend Lincoln Middle, and Harry had no classes with me at all. Even this was the only class I had with Avery, and it recently felt like someone stepped on my stomach whenever I saw his face, the face I had known for years, yet the knowing sense of friendship had somehow slipped through my fingers like water--transparent but mystifying. I still had a pretty solid friendship with Jasmine, but with Harry and Avery, not so much. That was the whole reason I was talking to him--without a specific cause, it would have been too painful.

“Did you get Harry’s number?” I inquired. I could see it in Avery’s face, however much he tried to hide it with naive puzzledness, however subtle it was--resistance. I didn’t know why, but no matter how much I would try in the near future, I wouldn’t get the number from him. All I wanted was to get our old group back together.

“Uhm, yes,” Avery said hesitantly. His big brindled eyes shifted down towards where he picked at his sneakers.

“I can’t read your mind,” I told him, a little annoyed with whatever it was that kept him from sharing the information with me. I tried to hide that snotty, resolute, preteen girl exasperation in my voice, but it was harder than herding cats, because I was going to go berserk. There was a part of me that pined for the nostalgia of my elementary years, for the simplicity and for the raw, childish joy.

“Ha ha,” Avery mumbled. His eyes darted up and around the room as the puckish grin faded from his lips. “I’m going to go talk to Evan, ‘kay?”

“Fine,” I grumbled, with the slight tilt of resigned despondency to my voice. There was what I interpreted as a uniform understanding that hung over our heads like a dense fog over a chilly, ice-cloaked road, whispering, “what’s gone is gone.”

Avery stood up silently, his gaunt figure wavering a touch, and sauntered over to where Evan Harden stood. They spoke, their voices animated, Avery’s with what I hoped was false happiness. But it appeared that the act was genuine. His tawny eyes had lit up with a flame that I hadn’t seen on him in years, and the grin on his face was as natural and uncontrived as the snowkissed Rockies in the west. It was like a kick to the gut as I realized he looked… happy.

Just an FYI, this isn't as depressing as it seems. Bye, y'all.

P.S.: I just read that over, and I promise that is really not as sad as it seems. If you ask, I might add more. I was just trying to copy/paste something that would make sense without backstory. And if you don't that's okay. If you hate it, that's wonderful, too. :)


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