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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1803225-The-Worst-Type-of-Curse
Rated: E · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1803225
A short story I wrote for a class about a girl's relationship frustration.
         The sun seemed to drag endlessly across the sky as I waited for his car to come into view.  It was a typical 1998 Honda. The body was so low, the huge metal rim in the centre of each wheel was hardly visible.  Not to mention, it made a loud growling sound every time he revved the engine - I could hear cars just like it from across the highway.  I sat back in the gray-blue bench and turned up my music a little bit louder.  I hummed to the tune of the song and closed my eyes, breathing in this moment where I could be completely alone. Before long, I found myself breathing in the familiar scent of cologne and old pleather as the car headed down the road.  The tinted window was rolled down halfway, letting in a slight breeze.When I turned to face him, he already had his eyes on me.
"How was your day?"  This was a seemingly ordinary moment in time, except for me it was anything but.  Nothing was ever ordinary
when he was around.
"Good, how about yours?"  He half smiled at me and returned his eyes to the road.
"It was okay, I made reservations for next week."
I looked out the window.  "Cuban?" 
The car speeded up as we merged onto the highway.
"You know me too well."  That was the problem.
         I distracted myself by looking around the car.  I told myself I needed to stop, but then it was too late, my eyes had reached the CD case. 

Happy four months!  Love, Adelle. 

How sickening. I remember when she gave him the mix CD, and he took it and thanked her like it was the best gift anyone had ever given him.  And then she gushed about how great he was, and he gushed about how beautiful she was.  And I kind of stood there amongst the shelves in the back room, invisible to them.  It was a great joke, having the three of us on break at the same.  But that was a long time ago, and this is the present.  I decided to break the silence in the car. 

"I thought she didn't like Cuban food."
"Are you kidding? She loves it!"
"Really? She told me she hated it."
"That was probably before I cooked for her." He winked at me.
I felt the familiar pang in my heart, and had to look away so he wouldn't see the expression on my face.  But again, it was too late. 
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"What? Nothing."
I tried to compose myself.
"You've been really quiet lately...I'm your friend, you can tell me if something's wrong."
I closed my eyes so hard it almost hurt, and wished my emotions away.
He sighed. "So what are you doing this summer?"
"I'm probably gonna visit my aunt in Florida."
"Aw, who's going to play video games with me?"
"Adelle."
"Nah, she doesn't play."
Obviously, he didn't get it.  I felt my hands shaking as he told me funny stories - I wasn't laughing.  My mind became contsricted with all the different thoughts moving so quickly through my mind, every single one a product of the past six months. I snapped back into reality when he said her name again.  I couldn't stand the way he said it.  Suddenly, I imagined the both of them standing together, smiling.  I was remembering all the times that he had said sometimes he wished Adelle were more like me.  Then I saw her in my mind by herself in the middle of an ocean,
drowning.  I shook my head because I couldn't stand what I was thinking.  I was not the person who wished harm upon others.  I was changing.
I hadn't noticed when the car had stopped, that there were tears down my face, or that his arm was around my shoulders trying to comfort me.  My body was suddenly paralyzed in that position.  He had never, ever seen me like this.  At one point he stopped trying to calm me down.  Clearly this was too much for him.  "Happy six months."  Before he could say anything, I sprinted out of the unfamiliar parking lot until it was dark and I couldn't feel my legs anymore.  I braced myself and looked behind me.  There was no one for as far as I could see.  I pulled out my cellphone and dialed the cab company.  They could take me straight to the train station, but I'd be on my own from there.  Unfortunately, Florida is only a couple
thousand kilometres away from this place.
© Copyright 2011 Minnie Q (lemonhaircut at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1803225-The-Worst-Type-of-Curse