flash fiction – Linda Nelson

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Legs blocked the walkway of the bottom bleacher. The vacant dark corner across the gymnasium beckoned Allie to come hither and hide in the shadows it provided. No one knew her; she had remained as faceless now as she had on the first day at this school. Coming to this dance was a mistake. Who was she kidding that she would be able to fit in at this school?

No matter what alias she used something always happened to make life miserable for her no matter where they moved. Why couldn’t she be like the rest of them?

What would it be like to be just a human?

The empty corner was not empty after all. Golden yellow eyes of one of the boys from her science class met hers. Had he been waiting for her here all along?

His name – Luke, Larry, Lonny, she faked knowing him as awkward as being near him seemed to be, “Hiya, great dance.”

“Hi to you, it’s just a school dance like any other. You’re Allie, right?” He allowed her a bit of the corner with the shadow blocking the view of the dance floor. “Are you here alone?”

Allie looked beside her to see if anyone was standing next to her. Nope, no one there. “that is a pretty good guess.”

He shifted his weight off the wall. “I don’t normally like to dance, but I like this song. Would you like to dance?” His hand extended in the offer.

Refuse? Any other time Allie would refuse, but his smile enticed her. “This is awful for me to admit, I never caught your name.” Her fingers touched his in reluctant acceptance. “Is it Luke?”

His smile grew. “Yes, I’m Luke.”

The moment he put his hand on her waist and held her hand she knew more about him besides his name. He was just like her. The first one she had ever met. No longer did she feel so alone in a world of humans. Allie didn’t have to be faceless forever. Maybe now she would be able to leave her Aliases in the past.

It might be just a note, but I wonder why it was so important to her. Maybe this could be the beginnings of a future romance. Hmmm….

The denim fabric of a jeans (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

She swallowed hard before washing down the fried egg she was eating. “You have the note with you? I wrote a list on the back of it. I need it back. I have to go to the store to pick up more dog bones.” Kendra checked her black T-shirt, hoping she didn’t drop any of her breakfast on her shirt or blue jeans. Her brown hair hung just above her eyes. She’d need another hair cut in about a week when it would start poking her in the eyes once again.

“I threw it out,” Randy explained. “I didn’t think it was important. Why would you write your shopping list on the back? People use post-it notes for that.” He’d driven all the way from Plattsburgh to listen to her complaint about a stupid note. Maybe he should get on with it and break up with her. Their relationship wasn’t ever going to go anywhere anyway. Who was he kidding? All she cared about was her dogs. They always seemed to come first in her life.

“You threw it out?” Kendra dove for the trash bucket. She needed that note, not just the list. That note had the password to her account. That’s the last thing she needed a trash picker to get their hands on. What the hell was he thinking? Throw the thing away – gad.

Before Randy could stop her, she had the entire contents on the floor. Nowhere was there a note to be found. “Kendra, listen to me. You’re nuts. Look at you. The note isn’t there.”

“You said you threw it away.”

“I did. But it’s gone.”

“It can’t be. I just saw it this morning.”

“Oh, that note. It’s here.” He held up a little brown paper bag, out of her reach. “Tell me you love me.”

“Randy, give that to me now!”

“Nope, not until you tell me you love me.” He continued to dangle the bag above her head, out of arms reach.

“Randy! I got to have that note!”

“Fine!” He tossed the bag across the room, away from her. “That’s it, we’re done. Don’t bother calling me.” Randy pocketed his car keys from the table, snatched up his jacket from the back of the chair, and let the screen door slam behind him.

Kendra sat on the floor holding the note she pulled from the bag. The slam of the screen door, bringing her to her senses. It was too late. Randy had already driven away.