Free Short Stories
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I Miss Holding Her Hand
Ray of Hope [4/26]
Summary: Macie had experienced her fair share of love and romance, especially during the summer. When she gets to know the very real Donald Falders of their hometown high school, she learns not all jocks are the shallow men they try to come off as. But when he tries to stand her up on their date, she begins to question if their relationship was really worth it.
Genre: Romance
Word count: 1200
This story was toned down from 1340 or so words to fit the 1200-word limit on a Figment contest called 'Summer Romance', so it was drastically altered BIG time. I hate this final piece. It was so much better before.
Macie Jackson didn't do muscular, well-built men. They just didn't cut it for her. She preferred the athletic but slender tall guys who were kind to girls, not those arrogant jocks who flirted with every skirt they met.
Then Donald Falders entered the picture, and she thought she had his image down pat. God, she was so wrong.
How did I end up looking forward to our dates? she wondered while sitting down at their table in the Starbucks they'd been frequenting the whole summer. It's already our 15th lunch, and I still get nervous.
Ten minutes ago, she'd fussed over her wardrobe, trying to find something new to wear. Her black sundress covered in white lilies and 2-inch heels complemented her slim figure, but it was the last of the outfits she had to show Don before she'd have to revert to some not-so-stylish combinations of clothing.
Today she took especially long putting her curly blond hair into a neat, pretty bun, though she made sure it didn't look like some businesswoman's professional bun. Macie loathed those overbearing hairstyles. She was going to become one of the top cosmetics and hair stylists in the US who did pretty hair, not work hair.
Where the hell is he? Macie glanced around the peaceful park across the street while tapping her manicured nails against the tabletop impatiently. It's been almost an hour. Don't tell me he's standing me up.
Maybe it was one of those romantic experiences she read often in books and saw in movies. In the real world, the girl usually ended up being dumped or knocked up or something. It was already near the end of the summer, so it was the perfect time to break up. He might be using her just to kill time or to get in her pants, even with their dating deal in place. She was a cynical person at heart, though, so she allowed the memories of the past two months to wash over her with a detached air.
Macie had met Don while working at the Starbucks, when she was saving up money to get into the beauty college she wanted. Don came inside with two other guys, and they ordered coffee before sitting to use the wi-fi. When she went to clean the tables, Don followed her, and she flat-out rejected anything to do with giving her number or seeing her. He wouldn't give up, though.
The following day, he impressed her with the fashionable non-designer clothes he wore. It showed, to her and his schoolmates, that he wasn't some egotistical jock who wanted to get a girl. His V-neck shirt and matching black jeans were in style, but casual and not too expensive. Macie liked that most about him in the beginning. It was like he already knew her somehow.
But we're breaking up soon, too soon―
"Macie," Don's voice cut through her flashback, and she felt a sweaty hand around her arm wrenching her from the table. "Come with me."
"Hey!" she exclaimed as he literally dragged her into the alley between the Starbucks and bookstore next door. "Don, what―"
She noticed then that Don was breathing heavily. When he turned to face her, she saw sweat dripping from his temples and chin. He had clearly been running. She remained silent to give him time to catch his breath.
"I'm-I'm sorry, Macie. I couldn't stand you up," he said when he calmed down. "I really was going to, but I can't go through with it."
Macie straightened up and crossed her arms over her chest. Tapping a fingernail against one arm and raising a haughty eyebrow, she said, "And? Why in the world would you stand me up?"
"Sorry!" He was really looking at her now. Don's wavering smile became firmer and showed his neat teeth. "You're really pretty today, Macie. That dress is perfect on you. Anyway," he said as his nervous gaze wandered to the brick wall of the bookstore, not even noticing Macie's blushing. "I'm-I'm not really the perfect athlete everyone in school sees me as. You of all people know that."
"Is this explanation gonna take long?" Don glanced at her, and she saw the shame in his eyes in that instant. She decided she wouldn't interrupt him anymore. "Sorry, go on."
Don breathed in shakily. "I'm actually weak against threats and blackmail. I put up a fake image as the jock of the school and work out only 'cause I used to be bullied a lot. I was proving myself to dad, too," he explained hastily, giving her barely enough time to register his words. "Your boss threatened me to break it off with you and stand you up today. Hold on! Let me explain. Please."
Macie was feeling extremely indignant, but she gave a terse nod.
"Your boss really likes you. You were the first decent worker he's had in ten years. No good worker means no customers. Please don't blame him." Don rubbed a hand behind his neck, and he glanced at it before wiping it on his shorts.
"You're defending him?" Macie asked, incredulous.
"I know it's weird to defend him, but I understand where my dad's coming from. Since we started going out, you lost concentration at work and he really doesn't want to fire you. If I were him, I wouldn't want it either. You're the first real person I've ever met. No one else lets me be myself."
She stared at him, embarrassed. He was too earnest to be feeling embarrassed; otherwise he also would've been. "Wait, your dad?" she exclaimed, alarmed. "My boss is your dad?"
"Oh, right!" Bemused, he slapped a hand to his forehead. "Sorry, I meant to tell you. Yeah. I've been trying to be the perfect son for him all my life."
"That explains a lot. You can't stand up to your dad?" She lifted a hand and squeezed Don's left forearm. "That's your weakness?"
"Well, not just him," Don sighed. "I don't handle any kind of threat well. If you were being assaulted, I'd probably shake like a leaf in front of you."
"That's trauma, Donald," Macie told him soothingly. "That's okay. Bullying is like that. I'll help you recover, yeah? Don't worry, I took self-defense."
"Yeah. Yeah! I will stand up to my dad for us. I couldn't break up with you," he said, framing one side of her face with a hand. "I don't want to. I love you, Macie."
She reached up to peck him on the lips. "Love you, too. First time you told me that, you know."
"Really?" Don replied, confusion evident in his voice and expression. He pulled her into his embrace. "Sorry. I won't forget to say it again, even after the season's over."
Macie buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in the masculine scent of sweat that was now familiar to her. "Remember? I made a deal to only be with you this summer. I'm calling it off. No more childish deals."
Don had managed to make the most cynical woman in their small town fall in love. Macie didn't mind, long as she was still with Don through every summer in their hopeful future.
Genre: Romance
Word count: 1200
This story was toned down from 1340 or so words to fit the 1200-word limit on a Figment contest called 'Summer Romance', so it was drastically altered BIG time. I hate this final piece. It was so much better before.
Macie Jackson didn't do muscular, well-built men. They just didn't cut it for her. She preferred the athletic but slender tall guys who were kind to girls, not those arrogant jocks who flirted with every skirt they met.
Then Donald Falders entered the picture, and she thought she had his image down pat. God, she was so wrong.
How did I end up looking forward to our dates? she wondered while sitting down at their table in the Starbucks they'd been frequenting the whole summer. It's already our 15th lunch, and I still get nervous.
Ten minutes ago, she'd fussed over her wardrobe, trying to find something new to wear. Her black sundress covered in white lilies and 2-inch heels complemented her slim figure, but it was the last of the outfits she had to show Don before she'd have to revert to some not-so-stylish combinations of clothing.
Today she took especially long putting her curly blond hair into a neat, pretty bun, though she made sure it didn't look like some businesswoman's professional bun. Macie loathed those overbearing hairstyles. She was going to become one of the top cosmetics and hair stylists in the US who did pretty hair, not work hair.
Where the hell is he? Macie glanced around the peaceful park across the street while tapping her manicured nails against the tabletop impatiently. It's been almost an hour. Don't tell me he's standing me up.
Maybe it was one of those romantic experiences she read often in books and saw in movies. In the real world, the girl usually ended up being dumped or knocked up or something. It was already near the end of the summer, so it was the perfect time to break up. He might be using her just to kill time or to get in her pants, even with their dating deal in place. She was a cynical person at heart, though, so she allowed the memories of the past two months to wash over her with a detached air.
Macie had met Don while working at the Starbucks, when she was saving up money to get into the beauty college she wanted. Don came inside with two other guys, and they ordered coffee before sitting to use the wi-fi. When she went to clean the tables, Don followed her, and she flat-out rejected anything to do with giving her number or seeing her. He wouldn't give up, though.
The following day, he impressed her with the fashionable non-designer clothes he wore. It showed, to her and his schoolmates, that he wasn't some egotistical jock who wanted to get a girl. His V-neck shirt and matching black jeans were in style, but casual and not too expensive. Macie liked that most about him in the beginning. It was like he already knew her somehow.
But we're breaking up soon, too soon―
"Macie," Don's voice cut through her flashback, and she felt a sweaty hand around her arm wrenching her from the table. "Come with me."
"Hey!" she exclaimed as he literally dragged her into the alley between the Starbucks and bookstore next door. "Don, what―"
She noticed then that Don was breathing heavily. When he turned to face her, she saw sweat dripping from his temples and chin. He had clearly been running. She remained silent to give him time to catch his breath.
"I'm-I'm sorry, Macie. I couldn't stand you up," he said when he calmed down. "I really was going to, but I can't go through with it."
Macie straightened up and crossed her arms over her chest. Tapping a fingernail against one arm and raising a haughty eyebrow, she said, "And? Why in the world would you stand me up?"
"Sorry!" He was really looking at her now. Don's wavering smile became firmer and showed his neat teeth. "You're really pretty today, Macie. That dress is perfect on you. Anyway," he said as his nervous gaze wandered to the brick wall of the bookstore, not even noticing Macie's blushing. "I'm-I'm not really the perfect athlete everyone in school sees me as. You of all people know that."
"Is this explanation gonna take long?" Don glanced at her, and she saw the shame in his eyes in that instant. She decided she wouldn't interrupt him anymore. "Sorry, go on."
Don breathed in shakily. "I'm actually weak against threats and blackmail. I put up a fake image as the jock of the school and work out only 'cause I used to be bullied a lot. I was proving myself to dad, too," he explained hastily, giving her barely enough time to register his words. "Your boss threatened me to break it off with you and stand you up today. Hold on! Let me explain. Please."
Macie was feeling extremely indignant, but she gave a terse nod.
"Your boss really likes you. You were the first decent worker he's had in ten years. No good worker means no customers. Please don't blame him." Don rubbed a hand behind his neck, and he glanced at it before wiping it on his shorts.
"You're defending him?" Macie asked, incredulous.
"I know it's weird to defend him, but I understand where my dad's coming from. Since we started going out, you lost concentration at work and he really doesn't want to fire you. If I were him, I wouldn't want it either. You're the first real person I've ever met. No one else lets me be myself."
She stared at him, embarrassed. He was too earnest to be feeling embarrassed; otherwise he also would've been. "Wait, your dad?" she exclaimed, alarmed. "My boss is your dad?"
"Oh, right!" Bemused, he slapped a hand to his forehead. "Sorry, I meant to tell you. Yeah. I've been trying to be the perfect son for him all my life."
"That explains a lot. You can't stand up to your dad?" She lifted a hand and squeezed Don's left forearm. "That's your weakness?"
"Well, not just him," Don sighed. "I don't handle any kind of threat well. If you were being assaulted, I'd probably shake like a leaf in front of you."
"That's trauma, Donald," Macie told him soothingly. "That's okay. Bullying is like that. I'll help you recover, yeah? Don't worry, I took self-defense."
"Yeah. Yeah! I will stand up to my dad for us. I couldn't break up with you," he said, framing one side of her face with a hand. "I don't want to. I love you, Macie."
She reached up to peck him on the lips. "Love you, too. First time you told me that, you know."
"Really?" Don replied, confusion evident in his voice and expression. He pulled her into his embrace. "Sorry. I won't forget to say it again, even after the season's over."
Macie buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in the masculine scent of sweat that was now familiar to her. "Remember? I made a deal to only be with you this summer. I'm calling it off. No more childish deals."
Don had managed to make the most cynical woman in their small town fall in love. Macie didn't mind, long as she was still with Don through every summer in their hopeful future.
Amateur In Love [short story version]
This is the Figment's Seventeen short story contest entry/497 words version of my novella-in-progress An Amateur In Love.
When life hands you lemons, you make...
I can never remember how to complete that phrase. I know it's something simple, something that's made. But me being me, I'm as slow as ever.
Whatever the case may be, I find that expression most accurately describes my situation now. I realized that for the first time ever, I have feelings for someone. It's not a simple crush either; I've fallen in love. How that came to be now, all of a sudden, and not any other time in the past 19 years I've known this person, I didn't know. I wondered until my headache almost split me open.
I have absolutely no experience with love. No good friends to talk about it with, no people to hear about it from, no TV to watch its work, no book. My parents divorced right after I’d been born, and I was given to my single aunt who’s been separated from her unloving husband for my whole life. So how could I have realized this now, and why did I love this person?
“Nate,” a familiar voice called, snapping me out of my reverie, followed by a warm hand clasping my left shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Glancing up, I stared into the concerned gray eyes of my friend of 19 years, already knowing what my response would be to the old question. “Nothing’s wrong. Just thinkin’, is all.” I lowered my gaze to my hands folded in front of me, where they rested in my lap, while Vince sat down beside me on the bench I typically occupy. “Why's it that you always ask me that instead of a greeting?”
Grinning, Vince leaned back and rested on the palms of his hands behind him. “It’s ‘cause you always look like something’s wrong. So, anything happen to you recently?”
Vince and I aren’t even that close. We’ve been friends for 19 years, but we never talked about our personal lives. It was mostly just about work or anything else except love. So I don’t know his girlfriends, or relationships, or anything interesting about him. That’s why these feelings confuse me.
“I think I’m in love with someone,” I told him, still staring down at my clenched hands.
I knew without looking Vince was blinking at me in surprise. “Well, congrats, man! Who’s the lucky gal?” he asked with a cheerful smile, then patted me on the back.
Having anticipated that question, I replied frankly, “It’s a man.”
I turned toward Vince to find, as expected, his wide eyes blinking quickly and his mouth opening and shutting. That was his shocked look.
“Oh,” he said before furrowing his brows in concern, then he suddenly smiled at a thought he had. “Whoever he is, he’s a lucky man. Hey, go confess, all right? I'm supportin' ya. You know what a romantic I am.”
No, I didn’t know that. I’ve been thinking, though, that’s what I loved the most about him. He doesn’t lie to me.
When life hands you lemons, you make...
I can never remember how to complete that phrase. I know it's something simple, something that's made. But me being me, I'm as slow as ever.
Whatever the case may be, I find that expression most accurately describes my situation now. I realized that for the first time ever, I have feelings for someone. It's not a simple crush either; I've fallen in love. How that came to be now, all of a sudden, and not any other time in the past 19 years I've known this person, I didn't know. I wondered until my headache almost split me open.
I have absolutely no experience with love. No good friends to talk about it with, no people to hear about it from, no TV to watch its work, no book. My parents divorced right after I’d been born, and I was given to my single aunt who’s been separated from her unloving husband for my whole life. So how could I have realized this now, and why did I love this person?
“Nate,” a familiar voice called, snapping me out of my reverie, followed by a warm hand clasping my left shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Glancing up, I stared into the concerned gray eyes of my friend of 19 years, already knowing what my response would be to the old question. “Nothing’s wrong. Just thinkin’, is all.” I lowered my gaze to my hands folded in front of me, where they rested in my lap, while Vince sat down beside me on the bench I typically occupy. “Why's it that you always ask me that instead of a greeting?”
Grinning, Vince leaned back and rested on the palms of his hands behind him. “It’s ‘cause you always look like something’s wrong. So, anything happen to you recently?”
Vince and I aren’t even that close. We’ve been friends for 19 years, but we never talked about our personal lives. It was mostly just about work or anything else except love. So I don’t know his girlfriends, or relationships, or anything interesting about him. That’s why these feelings confuse me.
“I think I’m in love with someone,” I told him, still staring down at my clenched hands.
I knew without looking Vince was blinking at me in surprise. “Well, congrats, man! Who’s the lucky gal?” he asked with a cheerful smile, then patted me on the back.
Having anticipated that question, I replied frankly, “It’s a man.”
I turned toward Vince to find, as expected, his wide eyes blinking quickly and his mouth opening and shutting. That was his shocked look.
“Oh,” he said before furrowing his brows in concern, then he suddenly smiled at a thought he had. “Whoever he is, he’s a lucky man. Hey, go confess, all right? I'm supportin' ya. You know what a romantic I am.”
No, I didn’t know that. I’ve been thinking, though, that’s what I loved the most about him. He doesn’t lie to me.