Okay, I really need help with this. I haven't written a short story in a long time but I got this idea and I really wanted to try it. I'll warn you ahead of time, it's very cliche, but that's partly why I posted it on here because I don't want that. So any suggestions at all will be of great help.
Happy Reading! 
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It was a humid August day, only a week before school reopened for my senior year. It still amazed me that I was a senior, ready to venture out on my own and to make my own decisions. Things had seemed to go so fast these past few months, speeding by in the blink of an eye, all running together to an incoherent blur.
Easing back into the park bench I was seated on, I checked my cell phone for the time. Bryce was five minutes late and still counting, which wasn’t entirely unusual for him. However, I couldn’t deny that my patience was running thin that particular afternoon.
Glancing up, I searched the grounds of Central Park for him, but it was a useless attempt. Everyone seemed to be out enjoying the weather and I had no hope of picking him out of the masses. A few seagulls drifted lazily on a slight breeze above, squawking enthusiastically to each other. The hum of the local traffic penetrated through the populated trees and echoed across the neat lawns. A couple of runners, two girls, jogged past, wearing tight-fitting spandex shorts and tanks, talking between heavy breaths as their chests heaved for air. Another older woman walked her young Yorkie who thought it amusing to nip at my ankles as they passed.
Yes, my patience was nearly drawn up.
Shifting restlessly, I set my bag on the seat beside me. As I continued to wait, I let my head fall back, allowing the sun’s rays to coat my face in a buttery sheen. It warmed my skin and brought a flush to my cheeks. Bryce came to mind, his face the one I had saw on the last day of school. Lighter brown hair, eyebrow ring—that day an electric blue hoop—glinting in the sunlight, his laugh deep as he hugged his girlfriend close and blew me a flirtatious kiss before driving off in his black Mercedes, a gift from his Entrepreneur of a father. It made my stomach ache to think of that affection squeeze around Brianna’s shoulders, her face glowing with pride, a smug smile feeling like a punch to the gut every single time. I knew that I shouldn’t have been feeling this way but it was there, prickling like a scratch you can’t itch, lingering in the back of my mind.
I hoped that today would clear everything up for me, for I hadn’t seen Bryce all summer, him being in California the whole time. But he was returning to New York today and I was praying that he would somehow bring a stop to all the useless butterflies fluttering around inside of me every time I thought of him.
“Enjoying the weather?” His voice was like a breath of fresh air, as if throughout this whole summer I had been treading water or drowning completely and at the sound of his timbre, he brought me to the surface to my first breath of clean oxygen. I hadn’t heard it in so long unless through a bad cell phone connection or over various texting and Internet conversations.
Opening my eyes, Bryce came into view.
Standing just to my left, he shifted his weight from foot to foot, the sun hitting his own bronze skin, making it shimmer with a life of it’s own; his hair was dyed black, the long strands temporarily hiding his eyebrow ring. His eyes were hidden behind opaque shades, as if mocking me, making me feel suddenly self-conscious. He had appeared to have grown yet again, reaching unbelievable heights. His normally tan skin was even darker, making those with fake tans appear just that—fake. His T-shirt seemed more filled out, his shoulder’s broader. I had never been intimidated by him before, but at the moment, I was conscious of the little make-up I had put on or how my hair was pulled in a haphazard pony in my haste to meet him.
Tucking a wayward strand behind my ear, I met his gaze and forced a smile.
His return gesture instantly settled the nerves that had sprung on me so suddenly. The smile that split his face was the same grin that had got me through horrible test scores or fights with my parents. That smile had been the one that had been with me since the sixth grade.
That smile was the thing I knew best.
“Have a sit,” I spoke, my voice coming out unexpectedly cool and collected. Moving my bag, he took the seat beside me.
Sighing with contentment, I watched Bryce’s head turn from left to right taking in the scenery. “God, is it nice being back here.”
“I take it that you don’t miss the rays back in Cali?”
Bryce looked at me, his lips parting as if he thought I was nuts. Raising my hands in surrender, I shrugged. “I just thought by that comment—“
“Well, yeah, I missed New York, but it will never be Cali, you know?”
“I guess,” I mumbled, having no clue what he was talking about since I had never left the state of New York and didn’t know anything about California except for the things Bryce has told me through the short conversations we had had.
I did notice how easy we drifted into normal conversation. It wasn’t even like time had passed, as if this was the beginning of the summer again, and we were just taking a Saturday out on the town.
“So, how has it been around here?” Bryce asked, jarring me from my mental babble.
“Same old, same old, you know.”
“Yeah, same stupid quirks that those stupid people have.” His voice had dropped an octave and I heard the slight anger in his tone.
Raising an eyebrow, I glanced over at him. “Since when are you a cynic?”
“Since I learned that high school is just a bunch of bullshit and that people never change.” The bitterness was something totally out of the blue and I was immediately taken back.
Chewing my lip, I struggled to find something to say. This wasn’t the reunion that I had been anticipating. I had expected lots of funny stories about California and all about our worries and anticipation for our senior year.
But not this.
Bryce must have sensed my confusion, for he turned his body toward me and spoke more calmly. “I’m sorry. I just… I’ve thought about how people say that high school is supposed to be the best years of your life and I’ve been looking back on it and the only thing that was good was you.”
Jolting slightly, my eyes widened. What did he just say? My mind racing to catch up, I stuttered for an answer. “Well, yeah, you’re my best friend, Bryce, and always have been.” I couldn’t ignore how my pulse skipped at this statement or how my stomach did a little leap. They were all signs of what I had been fearing… what I knew that would change everything between us.
“Yeah. You’re like the only constant thing in my life. With my dad always in China or some other goddamn place and my mother always spending all the goddamn money, you’re always there.” The only thing that could explain Bryce’s suddenly contemptuous mood was that it was our last year and he was just looking back on the past. I couldn’t really think of any other reason for his erratic behavior.
“We have each other’s back, you know?” I bumped his shoulder playfully, hoping to lighten the mood, and to my delight, he bumped me back. His warm skin brushed against my upper arm, sending little shock waves of feelings throughout my arm.
“Yeah, Mia, you got that right.”
For a moment, we just sat in silence. It was really nice just sitting here with him, his shoulder lightly pressing against mine, feeling his body heat, hearing his consistence breath, in and out. I had missed him, no doubt about that. Bryce was like the older brother I had never had, but peeking at him from the corner of my eye, I couldn’t ignore the burst of butterflies that exploded inside of me at the slight upturn of his lips when he caught me staring. It wasn’t like me to feel this way, about anyone, really. I had never had a boyfriend and never really saw the need for it. Being friends with a guy was good enough for me. While all my friends went all googly-eyed over the next hottie, I was out racing dirt bikes with Bryce and his friends over spring break.
But now, this was happening, and I wasn’t sure if I favored it too much. I had noticed it towards the end of last school year and now the feeling was only intensified with Bryce being back in New York.
But Bryce was the total opposite when it came to girls. He was a very extroverted person and tended to flirt with any girl in a ten-foot radius. Many of my friends told me he was ‘such a charmer’ and that I should ‘totally go for him’. I would always strike a disgusted pose and turn away, too grossed out to think further.
Just then, Bryce interrupted my thoughts with a loud cough and a sigh. Suddenly, inspiration struck me as my eyes drifted to the large fountain close by. Smiling wickedly, I poked Bryce on the arm.
“I dare you to go dowse yourself in that fountain over there while singing at the top of your lungs.” Bryce laughed. I was always the risk-taker out of us two, Bryce being more passive and just going with the flow. I would be always suggesting wild, totally out there stunts to pull but Bryce would never do it, leaving me to do the embarrassing deeds by myself while he got a good laugh out of it.
It was the reason why the ‘Serious Bryce’ was throwing me off. He was never one to contemplate further than what to eat next. He had never been a deep thinker, his brain too occupied with other things, like how good the girl sitting next to him looked in her jeans.
That’s why it shocked me when he shoved his glasses to the top of his head, exposing those baby-blues, and declaring: “You’re on.”
With a whoop, he took off at a very fast pace towards the fountain. I was too dazed to move at first but then I gave chase, giggling like a fool.
I still remember all those bewildered expression we received as we soaked ourselves under the freezing stream of water from the top of the fountain as we shouted out the lyrics to Michael Jackson’s Thriller, Bryce’s choice.
Laughing after the stunt was done, we escaped back to his house, his seven thousand square-foot ‘humble abode’ as his mother christened it when they bought it five years back. In his room, he escaped into the bathroom to change as I stood over the balcony and squeezed the water off of my hair into the blooming orchid garden below, making the petals bounce buoyantly every time a droplet of water hit them.
I thought of Bryce a few moments before, shirt glued to his muscled frame, eyes glittering with amusement, hair hanging in his eyes. This was how I liked it between us. Free, open, ready to express whatever is on our minds in a moments notice and able to pull crazy stunts just for the heck of it.
He came out of the room a few seconds later, shirtless, with just a pair of boxers shielding his surprisingly buff frame. He caught me admiring it as he traversed to his dresser and arrogantly flexed his muscles for me.
“Got ripped hitting the waves?” I asked with a smile, trying to hide the unusual blush creeping up my neck. I had seen Bryce like these countless times since the summer of sixth grade when we used to swim in his pool every weekend. It wasn’t like I hadn’t, but that sudden appearance of him like that sent my palms perspiring and I clasped them tightly behind my back, struggling to keep my emotions in check.
“You know it.” He winked and spun away to pull on a pair of gray sweatpants as I laid back on his bed, feet hanging off the end.
“Have you ever looked towards the future and panicked because you couldn’t picture what it would be?” I wasn’t sure why that question popped out of my mouth, but it was already out and I just waited, staring up at his painted-black ceiling.
“What kind of question is that?” he teased, chuckling softly under his breath and shaking his head, making me purse my lips in distaste. It was one thing about Bryce, the only flaw I could ever see. He was so into himself, so self-absorbed. When he wanted to talk, we could talk, but when I wanted to, I was shoved aside.
“No, I’m serious.” Sitting up, I pinned him with my eyes, forcing him to answer.
“Well, I don’t know, Mia. I guess, but I already know what I’m supposed to do. Take over my dad’s entrepreneur business and carry on ‘the family name’ as he always says to me.” I rolled my eyes along with Bryce as this. His father had been saying that for years to him, drilling it into Bryce’s head since he could walk.
“But that’s not what you want, is it?” I asked softly.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Come on, Mia, you really think that matters? If I didn’t do what my ol’ man wanted, I would be disowned or something.” Laying back on the bed, he crossed his hands over his stomach.
Looking down at him, I pitied him for the first time. All my life, I had wanted the lavish lifestyle Bryce had while I resided in a two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. It was still a wonder to me why his parent’s sent him to public school. “I still don’t think that’s fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, Mia,” he grumbled, voice so harsh that I flinched away from him.
Choosing not to reply, I laid back beside him and closed my eyes, imaging Bryce twenty years from now, I twin to his father.
But I couldn’t.
Instead, I saw Bryce, surfing the waves of California and hitting the clubs at night. There was no way Bryce would be caught dead in a suit and tie, yet this is what his father wanted from him.
“I say screw him,” I muttered before I could stop myself.
Bryce turned to me with a flabbergasted expression before laughing. “Yeah, me and you both. But he is my dad. What can you do?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“What about you? Gonna become a fashion designer for dogs like your mom?”
“God, no!” I exclaimed. My mother was the sole owner of Doggy Fashions Inc. She started it straight out of high school and had done it every since. I still couldn’t believe how many people went to her for clothes but they sure did and I guess it paid the rent, so I couldn’t really complain.
“Then what? What is it that Mia Thompson wants to do?”
I opened my mouth to reply—and then stopped.
What did I want to do?
I had always thought of other people’s future, never my own, and now the question was poised and I didn’t have an answer.
“I guess I should go to college. That’s good, right?”
Bryce shoved me lightly. “You’re a real Einstein, you are.”
“Shut up.” I shoved him back.
Another moment passed, and I thought again how nice this was. Laying on his bed as the sky outside slowly darkened, content with just listening to each breath he took. For the first time, I realized that Bryce was the only person I was completely comfortable with. Even with my girl friends, I was never entirely sure of myself. But with Bryce, there was no thinking, no second-guessing yourself. You just did.
“Have you ever wondered why you’ve never had a boyfriend?” The question jarred me and I sat up as if electrocuted, gaping at him like a fish out of water, knowing that I looked like a complete idiot but not caring.
“Excuse me?”
“You know what I said.” He stretched his arms over his head and yawned.
I thought for only a moment before answering: “Actually, no.”
“Really?” He raised his eyebrows, sitting up slightly.
“Really.”
“Hmm, that’s weird.”
“Why is that weird.”
“Well, most girls want a boyfriend and—“
“I’m not like most girls.”
“Obviously.” His eyes leisurely ran over my frame and goosebumps shivered deliciously up my arms and spine. Wait, what is wrong with me? This is just Bryce, my middle school buddy! And yet, he wasn’t that Bryce anymore.
His eyes appeared wiser, his build stronger. His face was chiseled and defined and a fine layer of five o’clock shadow darkened his jaw line. This wasn’t little boy Bryce, my best friend and protector.
This was Bryce, future entrepreneur and… man?
Shaking my head, I turned away and pulled my knees to my chest, deep in thought. Eventually, Bryce joined me, sitting up and tilting his head to the side. “What’cha thinking about?”
“Stuff. You. Me. The future.”
“You and me?”
“Yeah, how we’ve been friends for years and all the stuff.”
“We have been friends for awhile, haven’t we?” He picked at his chin, seemingly surprised by this information.
“Six years and counting.”
“Jeez, that’s a long time.”
“Yup.”
A pause, then. “You still haven’t answered my question about why you haven’t dated?”
“That wasn’t your question. You asked why I haven’t thought about why I don’t have a boyfriend?”
“Same diff.” I rolled my eyes and returned my chin to my knees. “So, why?”
“I don’t know, I just never saw the need for it.”
“But you’re gonna get married right?”
“Sure, someday. Aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but I’ve had girlfriends and dated and understood the process. You’re gonna be going off to college without any experience.”
“I’m sure it won’t be too difficult, Bryce.”
A wiry smile crossed his lips and he rolled his head along his neck, hearing it crack. “What about you and Bri? Still going strong?” I asked, thinking of his recent girlfriend of almost a year now, her smug smile on the last day of school, as if she could read my thoughts and know that I wasn’t feeling for Bryce I had normally would..
He shrugged. Not a good sign. I couldn’t ignore the sudden pick-up of my heartbeat at his gesture. It made me think that maybe their was hope… that maybe this could work out.
“Haven’t talked to her yet but she’s bound to call soon,” Bryce continued, his eyes drifting to look out the window.
“Ug, why do you even date her. She’s such a bit—“ I cut off before I could finish, biting my lip and looking warily at him. He had never liked me dis-ing his girlfriends and so I usually avoided the topic.
He just shrugged again. “I like her. What else is there to know?” At this, the hope died within my chest like a deflated balloon, and my shoulder’s drooped in defeat.
“I don’t know. She just doesn’t seem like your type,” I attempted weakling to dissuade him.
“My type? I have a type?” Another smirk flickered across his mouth, and I smiled—I couldn’t help it.
“You know what I mean.”
“No, actually. What would be my ideal type?”
“I don’t know…”
“Someone like you?”
The question caught us both off guard and our eyes locked. I took in his facial features—the soft curve of his nose, his thin lips, broad forehead with jagged strips of black locks slashing across it, eyebrow ring, silver in color, glinting in the fading light. I could also tell that he was taking in my appearance as well and I felt something pass between us. Not something like in those sappy romance novels but something significant, something I couldn’t ever put into words.
All I knew was that something had changed between us in the innocent enough question and glance. His head leaned slightly closer and my heart reacted with a pounding rhythm, knocking nosily against my ribs. I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready for him to confess his feelings for me. I wasn’t ready to confess my own…
Did I have feelings for him? After all these years of seeing him in just his boxers and him seeing me in my hole-y pajama’s, had things changed that much? I shouldn’t see him as attractive, I shouldn’t have the sudden urge to press my lips to his.
But they were all there with a little flutter of butterflies inside me rising with each erratic beat of my heart. I knew that I had been lying to myself all summer. I wanted Bryce, I wanted him to mine and my own.
He leaned even closer and I seemed glued to the bed, unable to move. His lips neared mine and then—
He took my hand and smiled softly. “You’ll always be my best friend, Mia. Always.”
There was nothing like the ache that I felt at these words. It wasn’t like my heart was breaking, but it sure felt like he had ripped a huge hole in it. I clutched automatically at my chest, as if he had physically wounded me, and avoided his eyes.
“Do you remember when we used to watch Alice and Wonderland all the time?” I asked, squeezing his hand.
He squeezed back. “Yeah, how could I forget? Your fav part was when they painted the roses red, right?”
“Yeah, and I would always say that when we would do something crazy.”
He laughed, remembering. “You would call me up in the middle of the night, whispering ‘Time to Paint the Roses Red, Bryce’ and hang up.”
“It was like our own little code for when we would sneak out and stuff.”
Our eyes locked again and all our memories like the one before surfaced. I should have realized so much earlier that he was the one I had been waiting for this whole time. He was the reason I had never dated. And now, here I was, ready to confess those feelings.
Taking a deep breath and loudly swallowing down the lump in my throat, I said softly. “Let’s do that again. Let’s take another risk, Bryce.”
“Like what?” He could tell by my expression that I was being serious and he eyed me curiously.
“I mean, let’s paint the roses red.”
Furrowing his brow, I could tell he didn’t understand and I took my other hand and covered his own, ensnaring it between my fingers. I met his gaze and took another deep breath. Still confused, the furrow deepened as he broke the gaze to stare at our entwined fingers. Then I saw the enlightenment in his eyes and smiled in encouragement.
“Oh, Mia, I—“
And then his cell rang, making us jolt away from each other. He smiled apologetically, releasing my hand, and answering. By his tone, I could tell that it was Brianna. They talked for at least ten minutes while thoughts raced around my mind, chasing each other. What was I thinking? Am I completely insane? Bryce would never go for a girl like me, who wears cargo pants and would rather play in the mud than play with Barbies as a kid. I could never be the girl he wanted.
He hung up the phone then and turned to face me. His hands were clasped behind his back and he looked uncomfortable, playing with his eyebrow ring. He only did that when he was nervous and I felt my stomach drop. It was obvious how he felt now, by his body facing slightly away from me.
Closing my eyes, I willed myself not to cry. Not in front of him. Not now.
“Mia, Bri wants me to head to her house so… ”
“Yeah, I gotta go.” Standing quickly, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, hoping to escape as quickly as possible.
But a warm palm enclosed on my arm and I was spun around.
“I’m sorry, Mia, about this. I know what you were trying to tell me before Bri called and I just… I don’t think it would ever work.”
Feeling my lower lip start to tremble, I sucked in a shaky breath. He noticed and a pained expression crossed his features. “Please don’t—“
“It’s fine. Really. I just gotta go.” Turning away, I took one step and then turned back.
“I’m sorry you feel that we can’t paint the roses red again. I think they would have been beautiful.” And then I walked out of his room, feeling like my heart was breaking.
Anyway, great job, Ashley!
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