Pages

Monday, August 5, 2013

The Bucket List

I've been writing a lot of poems recently, so I wanted to throw in some prose as well :) This is a short story called "The Bucket List". I'm putting up the first part today and the second part tomorrow. This story is about love and loss, and I hope you enjoy it :)





The Bucket List Part I

“Hey Ducky!”
            I sighed exasperatedly and turned around. It wasn’t just the nickname that alerted me to who was calling me, but the intoxicating scent of Polo Blue cologne, the light tread on the linoleum floor and the low smooth voice itself. Vladimir Rusakov was my best friend and the love of my life…Not that he knew it. After all, why would I tell him? It would only sow rancor and awkwardness in our friendship and I valued our friendship over any personal feelings that I had. “Yes Vlad?”
****
            She stood by her locker, the usual innumerable books piled in her arms, stylish black bag slung over one shoulder and midnight hair flowing down her shoulders like an ebony river. I raised my voice, “Hey Ducky!”  She turned around with one brow raised and a small smile playing about her lips. Today was like every day for the past fourteen years: her beauty hit me like an iron clad fist to the stomach. Porcelain skin, high cheekbones, long silken hair and a slim willowy build could not compete with the beauty of her personality. Darcy Suan, my best friend and the girl I had loved forever. Hazel eyes that had flecks of gold in the sun surveyed me before rolling with reluctant amusement. “Yes Vlad?”
            “Reading Chaucer again?” I teased, motioning at the dog-eared book that teetered precariously at the apex of the mountain of books stacked in her arms.
            “Some of us do more than run up and down a court trying to throw a ball into a net.” Darcy replied with the expected sarcasm.
            I laughed, knowing she wasn’t serious. Darcy had gone to every single one of my basketball games without fail, even though she didn’t like the sport. I know she didn’t go because she had a genuine interest in basketball; we had once spent three hours debating the necessity for the rule against traveling. In my defense, she only won because I gave up the argument as futile. However, having her at every single game was something extremely precious to me. It gave me incentive to do well, knowing that she was there in the crowd and although I didn’t tell her, she was my good luck charm. We won every game she went to and the one time she was sick with the flu and couldn’t go, we had lost. But I couldn’t tell her that, it would be too weird.
****
            “Reading Chaucer again?” Vladimir grinned, nodding at the books in my arms.
            I rolled my eyes. “Some of us do more than run up and down a court trying to throw a ball into a net.” I replied blithely. I wouldn’t tell Vladimir, but I loved watching him play basketball. He was athletic, tall and lean and could sink threes like no other. I tried to go to every game I could and I seriously doubt it makes a difference, but at least I have an excuse to be there.
            “Did you do the English assignment?” Vladimir asked, falling into step beside me as we walked down the hall. “I couldn’t figure out how to do the analysis on Faulkner because I had no idea what was going on.”
            “Benjy is the primary narrator and he has no conception of time.” I explained. “He’s also not all there, so that complicates things.”
            Vladimir sighed, shaking his head. “Why don’t they have a schizophrenic write the book already?”
            “It’s more understandable than trigonometry.” I grumbled, adjusting the tottering pile of books in my arms. “Math has no real life applications.”
            Wordlessly, Vladimir took the top half of the books. “Math is very useful in real life.” He countered. “How else would buildings be constructed and finances calculated?”
            “Through trial and error.” I muttered under my breath, flicking hair out of my face.

            Vladimir grinned but let my denial stand as we made our way towards the bus stop. 

No comments:

Post a Comment