I'm adding to my short story compilation Family Album. Feedback is appreciated. I haven't written anything in ages, so I feel rusty. I think this needs...more.
Martin:
Meet Cute
She was there again. The girl with the books. The girl with the smile. Everyday, without
fail, she would leave her friends after eating her lunch to come to the library
to read. And everyday, without fail, he
would be there, pretending to study hoping to see her.
When
he’d first discovered her, it was a happy accident. He was looking for a book on Civil War politics,
what he found was her.
In
his haste, he would’ve overlooked her, but just as he walked past her hiding
place, she began to laugh aloud at something in her book, ultimately stopping
him in his tracks. Who is that and
has she always been at our school? he
pondered as he stared at her perfect smile and glowing eyes. Completely immersed, she was unaware that her
laughter had garnered her an audience and a devoted follower.
That
was two weeks ago.
Make
no mistake, Martin wasn’t idle during that time. He’d done his research. She was the aloof Risa Owens: reader and
honor roll student. She lived with her brother
and grandmother in the Sticks. She was single.
He
was more than ready to approach her and put an end to his secret pining. He just
hoped he could get her to look up long enough for him to plead his case.
“Excuse
me.” He cleared his throat, held his breath.
She
quickly finished her sentence before looking up. “Yes?”
“Hi,
I’m Martin.” I’m Martin?
“Okay…”
“I’m
sorry. I don’t usually do this, but…” He
inserted a charming smile, the one that girls usually fall for.
“But…” She was not the usual girl.
“You
see, I was sitting over there,” he pointed towards his backpack and books for
emphasis, “when I looked up and noticed you reading Butler,” he pointed to the
book in her hand, “I had to ask…how do you find Dana’s optimism in Rufus’
ability to change despite his position in life?
Don’t you find it frustrating?”
He’d done his research.
“You’ve
read Kindred?” Using her finger
as a bookmark, she closed her book, giving him her full attention.
“Of
course. I actually came across it when I
was researching the antebellum south for my social studies project,” this wasn’t
a complete fabrication. He had found her
while researching and, in turn, came across the novel in her hand. “I see you
are a little over halfway done. What are
your thoughts so far?” He took a seat
next to her, hoping to engage her in a longer conversation.
“Actually,
I’m torn. Like Dana, I am rooting for Rufus,
but his actions are…horrible. I think Butler is playing with this complex power/love
dynamics, really highlighting the convoluted nature of slavery. We hate are masters, but we love them
because, in a way, we are all in this weird dysfunctional family.” At this she smiles, but it’s hesitant—shy. She is smart, but she is used to not being
listened to. It’s evident that she wants
to say more on the topic, but she doesn’t want to bore him.
Martin
notices the opportunity. “So you think
love is a tool of power?”
“I
think, like his white-maleness, love is one of the weapons at Rufus’ disposal. Look how he manipulates his mother.”
“Is
that art imitating life?”
“What
do you mean?”
“I
mean, do you think, for instance, and this is purely a speculative argument, if
I fell in love with…you. Do you think
that would be a tool of manipulation you would be likely to use?” He smiled, looking her directly in the eyes.
She
smiled back. “Cute. I see what you did there. What makes you think you would fall in love
with me?”
“I’m
gonna be honest. I was half in love with
you two weeks ago when I first saw you sitting here reading and laughing like
you were the only one in the library.
You’ve already had me coming to the library everyday hoping to see that
smile again, and you didn’t even know it.
I think it would take very little for me to completely fall in love with
you.”
He
continues to stare her directly in the eyes, hoping she gives him…them a
chance. Surely, she is as affected by
him as he is by here. Finally, Risa replies, “Me thinks the man doth protest
too much.” She gets up, beginning to
pack her things away.
“No,
I’m serious,” Feeling desperate, Martin grabs her arm, gently, hoping to get her to
stay just a little longer. “I just want
a chance. Let’s get to know each
other. If after 10, 20 dinners and
movies you aren’t interested—”
“10
to 20?”
“Alright,
alright…five.”
“One.”
“Two?”
She
pauses, thinking again. “Okay, two
dinners and/or movies.”
“Thank
you. I promise you won’t regret taking this chance on me.”
“I’m
sure.” Of all the promises he’d made,
this was one of the many he could not keep.
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