My first crush was the boy next door… Well, okay he wasn’t actually next door but opposite. His name? Bob, let’s call him Bob.
I was about fifteen and happy with myself. I didn’t use make-up and I worked on a farm. The family house was in the suburbs and every day my parents would drive me out to my workplace. At school I was doing okay, I was that year that the British educational system decided everything had to be coursework. The result was a massive work load, but a happy me as there were no exams.
Anyway, it was the summer holidays, hence the work. I was basically working for the lunch, chunks of bread, cheese and honey with a pudding of home-made eclairs. It was heaven.
And when I got home I would go out into the street. This was before mobile phones and portable DVD players. Children’s TV was only on for a few hours a day and there were only four channels. So everyone played outside.
That summer was glorious. It was hot and dry. Every night I would stay out to past nine. Doing what? Do you know I can’t remember? We talked a lot. And planned. In our street we were always talking about plans. What we wanted to be and do. And there were the lamp-post climbing contests. And yes I do mean the same as the one outside your window.
Bob could scale one in less than a minute. He was fantastic.
He was of course a little older. Just two years. But when you are only fifteen two years is like a huge chasm.
He seemed worldly wise.
And he was talking to me. Better than that we would take out our bikes and ride around, watching the sunset and holding hands. It was the most romantic thing that has ever happened to me.
Of course it had to happen. One day he kissed me. My first proper kiss.
I loved it.
“Knew I’d get you,” he said.
I looked at him with confusion.
“I knew in the end I could crack that frigid shell.”
I stepped back. Behind me the sunset blazed across the flood plane turning the grass luminous and the sky into a boiling red sea.
“It was a dare. And I won!”
He punched the air and ran off, leaving me standing there with my mouth open. I understood that I was bullied in school, but I had grown up with Bob. He was a friend.
In that second, as the sky echoed my world, my heart broke.
He got what he wanted though – a great story for the new year. Me? Well, I kept my head down and never spoke to him again.
This is a short story inspired my the daily prompt – it’s Friday, I’m in love. This is a short story and a work of fiction.
Sorry about the gap, but we lost power in the storms that hit Wales. We are all okay but it has taken a while to get back to normal. 🙂