Glory

Her legs were stretched out in front of her, slightly tanned and glowing from the summer sun that waited for an extra hour in the sky, and her mahogany colored locks hung down in different lengths till the slightly split ends grazed the beginning of her ribcage. Naturally a matte red but coated in a strawberry chapstick, her full lips were slightly parted as her orbs were trained on the program that was flashing over the screen of the television. Her mascara covered lashes would graze the tops of her light pink cheeks when she blinked, or pieces of her bangs would get caught and she’d annoyingly push them back up to the invisible barrier that was her eyebrows. Her lilac painted nails stuck out against the white carpet of the floor that her hands were resting on, shimmering a little when she’d randomly drum them a few times.

His eyes wandered away from her features and to the outfit she’d chosen on this warm summer day. Clad in a pair of shorts cut so they grazed near the middle of her thighs and a breezy tank top, he figured she resembled nearly every other girl that lived in their small town. Somehow though, he was sure that if you traveled around the entire state, you wouldn’t find someone as extraordinary as her.

“Why the hell are we watching this, Nate?” He jumped a little at the sudden sound of her voice and pulled his eyes away from her top just as she turned her head so she was looking at him. “I mean, do you give a damn whether or not Abraham Lincoln was really a vampire slayer?”

He chuckled and allowed relief to course through his previously electrified veins while reaching for the remote that rested between them. As he flipped through the many channels to find something else to amuse them on this afternoon, he became aware that she’d almost caught him yet again. No matter how careful he seemed to be, she always managed to unexpectedly turn just as he was becoming too absorbed in appreciating how beautifully wonderful she was. Though he’d always tried to picture would the day would be like when he would finally admit how he felt about her, he didn’t want that to be something that happened anytime soon, and so he was glad when she seemed to notice nothing of his ogling.

Eventually finding a documentary on some politician that she excitedly cooed at, he relaxed back in his previous position and tried to focus on what was flashing before him. That lasted only minutes and then she was adjusting the strap of her top, which made him gaze over to see that she’d slid them down so she could rub her left shoulder. Swallowing hard and automatically snapping his head back to towards the screen, he mentally began cursing. At this point, if things kept going the way they were, then his secret would be revealed before he was prepared and his moment of ‘glory’ would be ruined.

Soon he was replacing the cursing with the soothingly, mentally spoken word ‘breathe’, and had also folded his hands underneath his thighs so not to be tempted to reach out to help with the rubbing of her shoulder. The scene played out much that way until the end credits had replaced the feistily, seeming ‘preaching’, politician and she was bringing herself to her feet.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” she stated as she straightened out her jean shorts. “Then I think we should hit the Dairy Bar for a milk shake and head to the lake, what do ya say?”

“Sounds golden,” he managed to hoarsely whisper.

She chuckled and flashed him a bright smile before padding out of the room. He allowed a deep breath to escape from his tightly packed chest once he heard the bathroom door shut down the hall and hung his head while shutting his eyes. Why had it suddenly become so difficult for him? He’d liked her for years now, but this was the only time that he’d found himself doubting his ability to keeps his hands to himself while with her.

Friends for years, he wondered why he couldn’t just go back to the time when he was completely oblivious of the reason why he’d suddenly feel a rush of adrenaline race through his system at the sight of her or why he always seemed to be staring at those plump lips of hers. It wasn’t something that he particularly liked, as he was usually in agony most of the time they were together now, but he knew that there was no way to go back to the simplicity that had surrounded them so effortlessly before. Typically, when a person makes you feel like you’ve just won the gold medal at the Olympics and are up on the podium, enjoying your moment of glory, that means whatever has happened is irreversible.

Muttering quietly about his own stupidity as he pushed himself to his feet, he shoved his feet in a pair of shoes that rested near the entrance to the den and then doubled back when he remembered that he’d forgotten to turn the television off. He aimed the remote towards the couch, but his throw was too hard and it bounced back onto the floor. Allowing for a loud curse word to fly out, he stomped back over and jerked it up before slamming it on the wooden coffee table.

Just as he was about to head to the kitchen for his keys, a slip of severely crumpled paper caught his eye and he frowned in confusion while bending down to pick it up. Unfolding it and taking a few seconds to make out the hastily scribbled words, he felt as his heart nearly completely stopped. On the piece of wrinkled paper was a number followed by a name that made the blood in his body boil with anger.

Parker Eddison
555-8120

He balled a fist around the slip of paper and squeezed so tight that he could feel his fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm. He knew the kid and, to be honest, didn’t think much about him. He didn’t seem too terrible and he was sure that his mother worked with Parker’s aunt at the hotel sometimes, but that didn’t mean that those seven numbers weren’t going to change his perception about him now.

“Are we going Beyoncé, or do you need a few minutes to fix your hair?” Her teasing words slightly drew out some of the anger, but he still clutched the piece of paper tightly as he turned to offer her a wide smile. Stuffing his fist in his short pockets, he nodded and followed after her when she turned to leave.

Glory, he knew, didn’t come to those who simply sat by and allowed what they wanted to scamper by. No, glory was won by people who fought, whether with appropriate tactics or not, and at that moment, he made the unconsciousness decision that his first play in trying to keep her his wouldn’t be at all respectable.