Just another something I worked on for my Creative Writing Class. I'm putting it in my final portfolio along with some other stuff so some feedback would be awesome.
Cake
The smog hung over the valley, thick with the dirt and grime of the world. Adam and I perched on Cutter’s Point above it all, like heroes looking down on everyone. We sat on an old, torn blanket. The frayed edges and faded colors felt familiar. My legs were crossed Indian style while Adam sprawled himself across more than his half of the blanket. I stared at the blue and purple mountains. There was something about being surrounded by such incredible monstrosities that really put things in perspective sometimes. The mountains told me not to feel alone.
Goosebumps prickled my skin. I yawned and a shudder erupted through my body. I started to lose all the feeling in my body to the biting wind. It slapped my face and tore through my hair.
“What time is it?” I asked rubbing my eyes.
“It’s late. Happy Birthday, by the way,” Adam said. He looked up at me. Adam seemed different. In the time since I met him he stayed constant, but now he looked strange. I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Thank you,” I said standing up, “take me home? It’s freezing.” I yanked the blanket from under him and took long fast steps to Adam’s car. Adam took his time getting up. He slowly strode through the dying grass, flipping through each and every key until he found the right one. He whistled some obscure tune and finally unlocked the car. I jumped in finding only some relief from the cold.
“How was the cake?” Adam asked. That seemed just the sort of question Adam would ask, a random and insignificant one. He turned the keys over in his hands, examining them. I sighed, snatched the keys from him and turned the car.
“I didn’t have any cake,” I said. I crossed my arms over my chest as tight as I could.
“You do know that it’s bad luck not to have cake on your birthday, you’ve been cheated out of a wish,” Adam said pulling his seatbelt across his body then clicked it in place with real purpose. He then reached over and buckled my seatbelt too, “Safety first.”
“The cake doesn’t matter. My mom is out of town anyway. And I don’t like cake all that much.” Adam gripped the steering wheel but went nowhere. Our breath stuck to the windows like fresh snow sticks to the trees. Adam started to drive.
It was quiet for a long time. Something hung in the air between us like an invisible shield. Whatever that something was it had been there for a couple months, we just never bothered to notice it until tonight. I didn’t like it. The silence pressed against my ears.
Adam turned to me, “Have you ever tried cake?”
“What?” I snapped.
“How do you know you don’t like cake? Have you ever tried it?” he looked at me with that stupid beautiful smile on his face, the one he always put on when he wanted to cheer me up. He made smooth movements as we wound our way back into town. The dark road always scared me, the trees loomed overhead and blocked out the sky. The uncertain turns could deceive even the best drivers.
“A long time ago,” I said. I could feel my fingers and the tip of my nose again, but my feet were still numb.
“Maybe you will like it now that you are older?”
“What is that supposed me mean, now that I’m older?” I said. I ran my fingers through my windblown hair.
“It just means that maybe you will like it now. Stop over-analyzing everything.” We reached civilization. I let out a slow breath of relief.
“Cake hasn’t changed, it’s still cake.” I shook my head and looked out the window. I could see the top of the old church on the corner of Main; it marked the half way point to my house. Dirty roots grew up the side of the crumbling brick building, like hands grasping for salvation.
“You don’t know that, you just have to give it a chance,” he said. I looked ahead for the next turn, by the grocery store where kids from school went to smoke and steal alcohol.
“I did. The cake had its chance and it just didn’t work out. It won’t be different,” I said. Adam turned up the hill that my house sat on top of. Trees hid the driveway but as he pulled in the gothic arches, manicured lawn, and green shutters burst into view. He stopped the car. I didn’t really want to get out; I didn’t want to go inside. You can’t see the mountains from my house.
Adam followed me up the dark path. I used to imagine monsters would reach out from behind the bushes and grab my ankles before maturity set it. The porch light flickered on, my only welcome.
“What do you mean it didn’t work out?” Adam asked. Inside I turned on all the light switches I could reach. Warm, comforting light hit my face like a ray of sun.
“I threw up after I ate it on my sixth birthday. It was a long time ago.” I looked at him and hoped he would stay.
“So you base all of your cake preferences off of one bad birthday?” He pulled out a cigarette and lighter. I opened one of the windows so the smoke could escape.
“Some people just don’t like cake. There are some things that nature doesn’t want people to have, that’s just how it is.” Why did I always feel like defending myself around him?
Adam nodded and lit the cigarette, “Some things just don’t belong together?”
“Exactly,” I said pulling off my scarf and jacket.
We sat speechless in the entry way while Adam smoked. He exhaled and smoke flooded out of his mouth and snaked its way to the door. I used to hate the long silences in our conversations. I hated how he could just sit there without saying anything for hours and it never bothered him. I hated a lot of things about Adam, especially how much I liked him.
“What kind of cake was it? The throw up cake?” he finished the cigarette and tossed it out the window.
“Do you have to call it that? That’s gross,” my nose crinkled at the thought of throw up cake, “I don’t remember what kind of cake it was, that was twelve years ago.” I lied. I did remember what kind because that cake happed to be the best cake I ever had.
I remember when the caterers brought it out into the back yard. It towered over me, covered in pink icing. Candy flowers scattered across it in purple, yellow, and green patches. The candles lit up like little ideas and dreams inside my head. The smooth flavor melted in my mouth. That cake was perfect, and it betrayed me.
The clock in the kitchen ticked louder every second, like a hammer hitting a nail harder and harder. I wanted to scream.
“Well, I think you’re missing out. I think you should let the cake redeem itself.” Adam swung himself onto the counter like a cat. I leaned against the sink next to the grapes. I pulled one off the vine and popped it into my mouth. The smooth skin burst apart in my mouth and the sweet juice slid down my throat.
“I don’t want to.”
“I’m not saying you should marry the cake or anything, just try it. You might like it.”
“Adam, it’s just cake. Why are we still talking about this?”
“What else are we supposed to talk about Abigail?” his tone changed, it was sharper than a knife and it hurt worse than a paper cut, “You won’t talk to me about anything anymore. You won’t talk to me when anyone else is around, you won’t tell anyone about us. I know I’m… I’m less than nothing and I don’t deserve you, but I’m so in love with you that I can’t put myself out of my misery.”
“It was red velvet cake,” I murmured, “the throw up cake, I mean.”
“Great, a subject change. I guess my heart is just a social casualty again.”
“It was my favorite kind. I threw it up because that was the day my dad killed himself,” I said. I found him in the office, and the blood pooled on the real oak floors around his body. I ran outside into the dark, tripping over the bushes the monsters hid in. I ran and I ran and I ran until I could see those mountains. We held the funeral in the small crumbling church on Main. On the way home we stopped at the grocery store and my mom bought her first six pack of beer.
“You can’t blame me for his mistake. Let me show you that I’m not him.”
“You can’t just leave things the way they are, can you? Why does everything have to change all the time? I hate it! You’re always trying to mess things up, to make me eat cake, I just can’t stand it!”
“Don’t worry; I won’t make you eat anything you don’t want to eat anymore. Cake is bad for you anyway.” Adam slid off the counter and walked out of the kitchen. I didn’t want him to leave.
The front door slammed shut.
I slid to the cold linoleum floors. No more awkward questions or black leather. No more Adam.
“You don’t understand,” I said to no one, “you’re not my dad in this scene, you’re the red velvet cake and you would have hurt me eventually.”
Hope you liked it. It's probably one of the better peices I have written but it could still be crap haha.
