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Some random romance I wrote that was supposed to turn out some other way

Posted: Sun Apr 21, 2019 5:56 pm
by kittycathead
So... I kinda sorta wrote a little story that was supposed to go a different direction plot-wise, and it's a romance. So I figured I'd post it here for all to enjoy!
“You mean it was all just a prank?”
“Yeah,” Pixie answers, still not quite comprehending it herself. “That’s what I heard, anyway.”
“I mean, it kind of makes sense,” I say matter-of-factly. “I’m kind of a boring person. Who would like a literature geek like me?”
“Uh. . .” Pixie pauses to think. “Other literature geeks?”
“Yeah, very funny.”
Pixie stops and looks at her watch. “Oh no, we’re gonna be late to class!”
“Oh, great. Come on, let’s go!”
Pixie is merely a nickname for my energetic, outgoing, and admittedly short friend, Eliya Nixon. She’s only five feet tall, and she’s sixteen, just like me. Sometimes people call her “Pixie Nixon,” “Pixie-Nixie,” or even just “Pix-Nix.” The nicknames get kind of ridiculous sometimes. Once, someone even called her “Tinkerbell.” Her short, well, pixie cut also adds to the nickname. I think she got that particular cut because of it.
I step into my next class: English. The room is spotlessly clean, except for the teacher’s desk, which sticks out like red in an entirely grayscale painting. Papers are scattered all over the desk, and pens lie hahazardly around. My guess is that anything that made anywhere else in the room look messy was put on the teacher’s desk for safekeeping. Maybe he should learn how to use drawers.
I practically collapse into my chair, dropping my pile of stuff onto my desk. My copy of The Winter’s Tale falls onto the floor, and I bend over to pick it up. However, my hand is met by another, one that is big enough to swallow mine up. Knowing immediately who it is, I quickly swipe the book off of the floor and put it on top of my stuff, then glance at the owner of the hand. My suspicions are proven correct: the owner of the hand is, indeed, Jake Simmons. The guy who has been supposedly falling for me. But he has absolutely no feelings for me. I know this because I just learned today that his feelings for me were a prank the entire time. His friends were just trying to play with my feelings, and I’m not going to let them do that anymore. I’m done with their games, I’m done with their tricks. I’ve moved on.
I make a quick, quiet “humph” sound, and then turn away from him, looking at the teacher as he walks into the classroom.
“Good morning, class,” he announces, his voice booming throughout the classroom.
“Good morning, Mr. Lockfellow,” the class choruses, like a room full of unenthusiastic first graders.
“My, my, we don’t seem very excited today,” he notes. “Well, why don’t we change it up a bit with the new seating chart that I concocted last night?”
I immediately perk up. I can get away from Jake! If the teacher puts us on opposite sides of the classroom, this is going to be a great day!
Currently, Jake sits in the pod next to mine, and the seats we’re in happen to be very close to each other. Soon, that is going to change, and hopefully for the better.
However, that thought remains but a dream, as Jake and I are the last two people standing when the teacher is about to assign the last two open seats. He stands significantly taller than me, and I’m five feet and six inches. I’m guessing he’s about six feet. Jake and I are seated next to each other.
Annoyed, I place my stuff onto my desk and grab The Winter’s Tale, opening it up to the spot I left my bookmark.

Is it true, think you?
Very true, and but a month old.
Bless me from marrying a usurer!
Here’s the midwife’s name to ‘t, one Mistress Tale-porter, and five or six honest wives that were present. Why should I carry lies abroad?

“You read Shakespeare?”
My thoughts (and reading) are interrupted by Jake’s sudden comment.
Annoyed, I snap, “Yeah, so? Got a problem with that?”
“N-No,” he replies, clearly surprised by the intensity of my answer. “Not at all. I think it’s kinda cool, actually.”
I look up at him to see that. . . wait, is he blushing?
No, he’s not. There’s no way. Besides, the whole thing is just a prank anyway. I need to stop with this new pattern of hopelessly romantic thinking. What’s gotten into me?
I try to focus on the teacher, but my mind keeps wandering to Jake, somehow. I try to banish thoughts of him, and yet it doesn’t even work when I read Shakespeare, which usually transports me out of the world and into the world of the story.
This pattern can’t continue.
To my grace, the bell rings, and I approach Mr. Lockfellow at his desk.
“Yes, Titania?”
“Mr. Lockfellow,” I begin, “I can’t sit next to Jake Simmons. He’s distracting, and I can’t focus on my work because of it. Can you please move me somewhere else, where I won’t get distracted by him?”
“Well, how does Mr. Simmons distract you?”
“He won’t stop talking, sir. It’s really distracting, sir.”
A bead of cold sweat rolls down the back of my neck. Why am I so nervous?
Is it because of my sudden change in behavior, due to my sudden desire to get as far away from Jake as possible?
“All right, I’ll talk to Jake and find out what he is doing to distract you. If he doesn’t stop, he’ll be moved so that he doesn’t distract you anymore.”
Is he seriously saying that my testimony isn’t enough?
I hope Jake can end up getting moved to the other side of the classroom. . .

- # -

I walk up to my locker as the bell rings for the end of the day. For some reason, there’s a neon blue sticky note placed on the front of my locker, with some strange symbols on it.

Meet me at the park at five pm. -Jake

Beneath the note is the word “pigpen.” I take the sticky note and make my way back home. I then search up the word “pigpen” online. After browsing through about a million pictures of the character from Peanuts, I find something. It’s a picture of some sort of cipher, and I use the cipher picture to decipher the message.

“Meet me at the park at five pm. -Jake”

I check my watch. 4:48 pm. I’m not going to go to the park for him. I take the sticky note and its deciphered message and let them flutter into the trashcan. I then slip on my ballet flats, adjust my white sundress, and decide to go for a walk in the nature preserve.
I walk outside to find a nice breeze passing by, and blowing my hair gently to my left. As I stroll on the sidewalk, I find myself fidgeting with my own hair from time to time, and wondering if Jake will end up seeing me here. I immediately brush off the thought, because he probably doesn’t even live in the neighborhood. What am I doing, worrying about such fickle things, anyway? It’s pointless, and it’s going to get me nowhere.
As I walk through the nature preserve, staring at all of the beautiful blooming flowers, I notice a clearing, and the park that resides there. It’s not quite empty – one figure stands there, looking around. Suddenly, his eyes meet mine, and I realize the mistake I made.
The figure is Jake Simmons himself.
I start for the other direction, but not before his face lights up and he excitedly yells, “Titania! You came!”
It doesn’t take long for him to catch up to me, and he grabs my arm gently, so as not to hurt me, but firm at the same time, so that I don’t escape his grip.
“Where are you going?”
“Back home,” I reply.
“Titania,” he begs, “please stay.”
“Why? I have no reason to.”
He sighs. “You may be right, but can you please do it? For me?”
“Why would I do anything for you?” I ask, slightly annoyed.
“Please, Titania,” he pleads, “I need to tell you something.”
The vibe that I seem to be receiving from him is that he’s really disappointed that I want to leave him so badly. Reluctantly, I follow him back to where he was originally standing.
“Do you remember that odd situation, where my friends told you that I had a crush on you?”
I nod, tears starting to form in my eyes.
“Well, Titania. . . they were telling the truth. I’ve fallen for you, and hard.”
So it. . . wasn’t a prank after all?
The tears in my eyes spill over, and I can’t stop myself from sobbing.
“Jake, I’ve been such a jerk to you! I even asked for us to be separated, and. . . and. . .”
“Titania, it’s fine. Really.” Sympathy pours out of his voice, and he pulls me into a hug. It makes me feel so safe, and I somehow feel so much better just from that gesture.
When I’ve mostly calmed down, Jake says, “The teacher called me up after class and told me about your request. I told him it was a misunderstanding that I was going to clear up, and he decided that he wasn’t going to change up the seating chart after all. He did tell to give you a lecture on being petty, though.”
We both laugh, and he lets go of me.
“But more seriously,” he continues, “please don’t blame someone for hurting you because they were set up by other people. That’s what you seem to be doing in this current situation with all of your pent-up anger.”
“Jake, are you a social genius?”
He laughs. “That’s what I’ve been told. But, Titania?”
“Will. . . will you go out with me?”
I suddenly blush, not quite sure how to answer the question, due to the uncertainty in my heart. But it doesn’t take long for it to clear up.
“Yes, Jake, I will.”
(It's kinda cringey, I know...)

Re: Some random romance I wrote that was supposed to turn out some other way

Posted: Mon Apr 22, 2019 3:50 pm
by J.K. Riki
I love writing cringy stuff, so hey, I get it! Something so nice about it. :)

Thanks for sharing your work!

Re: Some random romance I wrote that was supposed to turn out some other way

Posted: Wed Apr 24, 2019 12:35 pm
by kittycathead
Thanks! Maybe I should do it more often... :wink:

Except a lot of the time it gets ignored ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Re: Some random romance I wrote that was supposed to turn out some other way

Posted: Thu Apr 25, 2019 10:02 pm
by J.K. Riki
Yeah, there's a lot of writing out there in the world. We do what we can! :)

Re: Some random romance I wrote that was supposed to turn out some other way

Posted: Sun Apr 28, 2019 11:38 am
by kittycathead
Yep ¯\_(ツ)_/¯