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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1946364-The-Hayride
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Experience · #1946364
A story about a boy's first date gone awry.
It was Randall’s freshman year of high school and he was attracted to Carolyn, a cute, tallish brunette who was filling out in all the right places. The attraction was sudden. They had known each other for several years but, up to then, he had not been seriously interested in girls. Hell he was just discovering what sex was, thanks to his older neighbors, who were already juniors, and his father’s “hidden” copies of Playboy.

After fighting his butterflies for almost a week, Randall worked up the nerve to ask her to go on a hayride. Asking in person was not going to happen, so he called her. He gripped the telephone receiver so hard as he dialed, he thought his fingerprints would be permanently imprinted into the handle. A wave of relief passed over him when she agreed.

Finally, that fall evening was upon them. It was a wonderful Indiana October night, crisp, clean and, thankfully, dry. His dad performed the chauffeuring work perfectly and would retrieve them later. Three aged-wood gray wagons were staged in the midst of the corral, barn, silo and main house. The wagon beds were full of recently cut hay and the Belgian draft horses gently whisked their tails as they waited for their evening task to begin. Firewood was carefully stacked for the bonfire that would be raging upon their return for hot dogs and marshmallows - they didn’t know about s'mores, yet.

About two dozen of Randall’s YMCA coworkers climbed onto the hay wagons kicking up dust which created a small haze. Randall spread his grandmother’s hand sewn quilt. Carolyn and Randall sat close, but didn’t touch. Putting his arm around her would be the next butterfly conquering test. Once everyone was settled, the wagon started with a jolt and he was off on his first hayride with a date.

The wagons followed a trail between tall Sycamores and the waxing crescent moon provided the little light they had. Randall and Carolyn were lying on the quilt watching the sky twinkle. Her hand touched his and caused an electric shock up his arm. He was confused and had no idea what to do. If Valium had been around then, one would have been useful.

As the ride went on, one of Randall’s older male coworkers began talking to Carolyn. She seemed receptive so Randall sat back, assumed his usual place and accepted what was happening. Of course, he didn’t like it. The green monster rose up in him and he regretted inviting her. He believed it was her fault, not his nor his coworker’s that he was being left out.

His embarrassment intensified as Jake kissed Carolyn. Randall wondered why someone didn’t do something? He couldn’t handle the older guy. What was he supposed to do? He was lost. At first he thought he felt cold, his lips quivered and his chin shook. but he contained his reactions and didn’t break out into uncontrolled sobs. Instead he did what insecure boys do, Randall wrapped up in the quilt and turned his back to the situation.

As the ride went on, his emptiness and helplessness grew; he couldn’t see life getting any worse. His date, his first date, was with another guy and Randall wasn’t doing anything about it. He felt pathetic, but wasn’t blaming himself. He was completely lost and determined that his only solution was to never talk to Carolyn again.

An hour later, they returned to the farm where the emptiness remained with him. Was she in the same spot he was in, not knowing what to do or did she really enjoy being with someone older? She stayed with Jake by the fire, while Randall sat with a couple of his friends. Fooling around with them didn’t help, it just hid how he really felt. Even the flaming marshmallow sword fights didn’t assuage his anger and indignation.

His internal bonfire suddenly exploded as he watched Carolyn and Jake continue their lustful ways. Angrily he loaded three large, fluffy marshmallows onto his sharp spit and stuck them into the fire. He watched as the sugary blobs bubbled, turned black and then erupted into flame. His anger turned to hate. Before he knew it, he charged toward Jake with the spit. It entered his chest just below the sternum as his shirt erupted in flame. Jake fell backward onto the gravelled pathway writhing in agony and slowly, the pain visibly ebbed as his life slipped away.

Randall stood over the body, proud and haughty. He knew he would never again would he be insulted on a date.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1946364-The-Hayride