Lost Chances

I rested my hand by my side on the bench, with my fingers clutched around the crumpled napkin. When Chris's bus pulled up I wiped away the last of my tears and tried to hide the stained napkin. It left tiny stains of moisture on my palm. Chris, or Dull Chris, as he is known by most, stumbled off of the big red bus and almost walked straight into the lamppost. Like me, he was spatially challenged. Dull Chris didn't mind about the affliction. On the other hand, I did. I hardly ever wore skirts or dresses because of the constant pattern of bruises that lingered on my legs, caused by walking into coffee tables, people, moving cars, and such like. Of course, the resulting lack of a legal driving license was also a major downfall.

Chris walked across the pavement. I decided to not tell him about the driving test which I had just failed.

“Allie Shmally!” He smiled, sitting down next to me. The battered wooden bench creaked under our combined weight.

“Chris Shmish. How was your holiday, then?”

He was sporting the type of glowing tan that I’ve never had, and probably never will. A white t-shirt decorated with the picture of a mustached cartoon prawn and the words - Prawn Star - hung loosely off of his chest.

“It was great! I had an amazing time - caught lots of prawns.”

He had spent two weeks on an island in the North Sea which is meant to be the prawn capital of the world. This gives at least a little clue to the origins of Dull Chris's said by-name.

A street cleaner whirred past us, throwing up a dust cloud that cocooned around the two of us. It sounds beautiful, but it really wasn't. The dust was drawn into my throat and I coughed loudly in Chris’ face.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” I blurted, wiping Chris's face with the napkin in my hand. “Are you okay?”

“Eh. Don't worry. Bit of another person's phlegm never hurt anyone.”

I smiled. Chris looked me in the eyes and I gazed back, for a while… probably for too long. Quickly I drew back my hand and returned it to my side, averting my eyes from Chris.

Elegant Victorian stone terraces lined the street, towering above us on either side. Most of Kellas City was like this; big and empty but with a tireless grandeur. It sits and forces a graceful disposition, waiting for the day that the riches of mining return.
Chris smiled as the dust settled. He twiddled with the hair on the back of his head. I had known Dull Chris long enough to know that twiddling his hair meant that he was thinking about something. The auburn hair started to fold around his fingers.

“I suppose we had better leave now if we want to get to The Coffee Cave before it closes.” Chris stood up. The wooden bench creaked again under the shift in weight.

I nodded. “Lets go.”

Chris picked up my canvas bag from the ground and I placed my navy beret on my head. We stood beside each other on the desolate autumn pavement. Chris's hand was by his side. Absentmindedly, I begun to entwine my fingers through his but then pulled my hand away quickly when I realised what I was doing.

If you want to know the truth, Chris and I had previously dated - for two years in high school. The relationship ended in tears, like every other high school romance, and I had planned on never talking to Chris again. Then it turned out that he was the only person in Kellas City whom I knew, when I moved to art college. Life has a funny way of showing you that it's in charge.

We made our way through the dusty Kellas streets without saying much. Chris shuffled his feet through the autumn leaf litter in the gutter. I concentrated on not stepping on the cracks in the pavement. Growing up, I was close to a number of superstitious old bat aunts and their influences somewhat stuck. For example, if I drop my left glove on a Monday morning then I can't pick it up. It'll create bad luck. I make Chris pick the glove up instead.

As we approached the tired facade of The Coffee Cave Chris's pace started to quicken. And I knew why. We always sit at a specific table in the coffee shop. If for some selfish reason somebody else is sitting at our table we are not happy. Chris says that sitting anywhere else in the shop 'will just not cut the mustard', and so he stares menacingly at the people until they leave. Our table is the best because it is close enough to the cake stand to get good food, but far enough away from the door for us to not get spotted by annoying 'friends' who are passing by.

Chris actually started running to The Coffee Cave door and then peered in through the window. “Destination is clear. I repeat - destination is clear.” He flung open the heavy glass door and rushed inside. I ran after him, holding onto my beret. When I got to the door Chris was already sat down at the table. The following event is one which could probably have been predicted, considering it's me that we're talking about. Lets just say that when I was in a rush to get into The Coffee Cave and sit down at our table, I wasn't really looking where I was going. And it wasn't until I woke up, dazed on the floor that I realised the door had closed on my face and knocked me out.

“Allie?” Chris whispered, kneeling by my side. “Allie. Are you okay?”

My blurry eyes danced across Chris’ face. His fearless brown eyes were there for me yet again. I'd be lost without him.

Hello! I'm Kaila. and I will be your reviewer today.

Okay, so overall, I thought it was a cute story. I liked Chris, he seems pretty well thought out and kind of quirky, which I really like from characters. Your main character is quirky too, like how you add in the parts about her supersticions, and their nicknames for each other and the table they always sit at. All those details are great.

One thing that seemed off to me, was the last sentence. Chris had just knocked Allie out, and when she looks up, she realizes that she'd be lost without him? It seems more like she'd be not injured without him. Haha. It just seemed strange to put those two parts next to each other.

Also, as a clutsy person, I know how your main character feels. But it doesn't seem like that would cause her to not be able to have a drivers liscense. That seems a bit extreme.

Other than that, I really like this piece. The relationship is cute, and I like the characters, which matters. Good job.

Hey Eily!

Welcome to YWS! That's a pretty cute story. I like how you ended it. So, onto it now.
And I would suggest you to reserve the colours for author's notes and such. It makes it easier for the reviewer if everything's in black, to read.

As we approached the tired facade of The Coffee Cave

This is just a little nitpick, but I would suggest some other adjective besides tired. I understand the usage, but it would sound better if you put in something else.

For example, if I drop my left glove on a Monday morning then I can't pick it up. It'll create bad luck. I make Chris pick the glove up instead.

This is a good example, but I wish you'd phrase it differently instead of saying 'for example this happened'. You can really work with this line to make it very interesting.
PM me when Part 2 is up.

~Lava

The idea for this story really is a cute one, and that alone kept me reading it.
If I were to offer any constructive critical advice though, it would be to watch the double use or over use of words close together. Find another way to label or describe something.
For instance, and this is just one of many in your story, napkin is used twice in the first two sentences. That's a bit of a nit-pick example, but perhaps using "crumpled wad" or some synonym for napkin would have been better.
When explaining actions with hair, for another example, try using synonyms or other descriptive ways of saying it. Hair. Locks. Wisps. Strands.

Watch the use of unnecessary words, especially repeated ones, and get rid of them.

In this sentence, perhaps.

A street cleaner whirred past us, throwing up a dust cloud that cocooned around the two of us.

Get rid of the first "us." It's not needed and only gets in the way.


With all that said, I really did enjoy this. The characters are darling. Keep writing.