Member-only story
The Day We Said Hello
In That Haze — No7 (Micro)
“Oh, you’re a lover, not a fighter, are you?”
I turned my head to see you walking with a girl whose hair was bleached. Her roots were dark, her eyes were bright blue like the sea around the boardwalk, and her lips were pastel pink. Her gaze danced as she surveyed you in your t-shirt and shorts, and if I hadn’t been cleaning up the litter along the planks I might have wondered what you two saw in each other.
She was all bright shades while you were a muted scale of colors. It wasn’t a knock to either of you — I didn’t know you well enough for that — but I wondered what was going through your heads as she laced her hand through yours.
“You know I am,” you said, your voice edged with a slight note of irritation despite your smile. “But what can I say to convince you? Do you need me to start reciting a sonnet or something?”
She giggled, swatting at you. I turned my head away, keen to let go of your camaraderie on this hot day when everything seemed to pulse in waves. I swiped at my forehead beaded with sweat and wondered, again, what the hell I was doing with my life. What was I trying to do? Be crowned a loser in all the right ways?
But Mom was at home, drying out from another stint of trying to cut off her alcohol intake. I had to have…
