The Fairway Boy

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
You will have to read to find out the story behind the misleading title.

Submitted: November 03, 2014

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Submitted: November 03, 2014

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I opened the driver side door of my charcoal gray Dodge Ram Hemi and stepped out onto the cracked asphalt of the old dimly lit parking lot. The cold October wind whipped around me causing my white skull flecked long behind dress to flutter against my legs. As my waist length blonde hair snaked around my face like spidery fingers, I pulled my leather Harley Davidson jacket closer around my chest and began walking towards the sliding front doors of the rusted Fairway grocery store. The clicking sound of my leather knee high boots echoed off of the abandoned railroad tracks that ran parallel with the parking lot. At such a late hour on Halloween, the town seemed deserted. The yellowish lights of the storefront cast an eerie glow against the pale darkness.

When my heels finally sounded on the concrete along the front of the store, the sliding doors opened as if to welcome me inside. I walked through the doors and found several pairs of frightened eyes staring at me. They looked like they had seen a ghost. I politely flashed a smile in their direction and grabbed a red plastic basket from a stack beside the door. Although I could feel their eyes searing holes through my back, I continued to walk towards the wide aisles that lined the sides and back of the store. Now in a more confined space, the echoing sound of my boots reverberated off of the chipped blue, yellow, and white tile flooring and bounced along the rickety metal shelves. It was such a lonely sound swallowed by the quiet of the store. There was no doubt in my mind that I was alone. I scanned the aisles as I passed them. Halfway across the store, I finally found what I had been searching for. The shelves to either side of me were stocked with such an array of sodas, waters, and other kinds of drinks that I felt like I had ventured between the bands of a rainbow. I slowly strolled down the aisle glancing to both sides.

"Ah-ha!" I exclaimed. Realizing I had revealed my thoughts so loudly, I jerked my hand to my face and covered my mouth. With wide eyes, I turned to look around me in hope that no one had heard. When I thought I was safe from nervous eyes, I reached up to grab a four case of glass Coca-colas from a shelf a few feet above my head, but even with high heels on, I could not reach far enough. Darn it! I hate being so short! I thought to myself.

Just then, the "employee only" signed doors flung open and a long metal cart stacked with bags of dog food wheeled out into the aisle. But it wasn't the colorful bags that attracted my attention. It was the boy behind them. His arms were slightly muscled and tensed behind the weight of the cart. He took no notice of me and just like that, he disappeared behind the obnoxious shelf blocking my veiw. I stared at that same place for a few moments more before eventually focusing my mind back on the task in front of me. I must get those daggum cokes!

A few more futile attempts later, I was completely frustrated and decided it wasn't worth the effort. With an exasperated grunt of disappointment, I dropped the empty basket and turned to march straight out of the front doors. But, then I heard an amused snicker and immediately halted myself.

I spun around on my heels and there he was, standing with one hand in the front pocket of his faded wrangler jeans, the other propped against the bar of an empty cart. I felt the heat of embarrassment creep to my face.

"Ya need some help there?" he asked with a lazy grin creasing his eyes at their corners.

I lifted my blushing face and shyly replied, "Yes. If you wouldn't mind."

"Well of course darlin'." His southern country accent bled into my dreamily wandering thoughts. Oh how attractive this boy was.

He casually strode over to the shelf and nimbly grasped the handle of the drink crate. Lifting it from it's perch, he daringly said, "If you want 'em, you gotta at least come get 'em." His smile only broadened when I timidly shuffled over to stand in front of him.

My eyes traveled from the tips of his brown Dan Post cowboy boots to his faded, unraveling jeans, and then to his plain baby blue t-shirt that hang loosely at his waist and gradually tightened against the muscles of his chest and squared shoulders. He must have known that I was lost in the land of daydreams. He chuckled to himself, snapping me out of my reverie. However, when I gazed up at his face, every small detail seemed to jump out at me. The thin light pink curves of his mouth, the freckled olive tone of his face and stubborn jawline, and even the sandy blonde hair that fell in fitful waves over his forehead demanded my full admiration. I soon found myself studying the almond shape of his bright, unnaturally green glazed eyes. My heart melted.

I reached out to take the handle of the box. His warm rough hand grazed the tips of my black polished fingernails causing chills to prickle my skin and race through my nerves. I giggled. It was the girliest sound that had ever escaped my mouth and I regretted it as soon as I heard it. My face rapidly began to turn bright red. I murmured a low "Thank you" and swiftly walked away in the opposite direction.

I could feel him watching me walk away. God, let him stop me. I wished on everything that my own embarrassment would allow just a little room to apply the brakes, but I kept walking.

I arrived at the cash register slightly out of breath and received the same wide-eyed expressions as when I had first entered the haunting front doors. The tall pale-faced girl at the counter slid the box across the scanner. Beep.

"Um.. That'll b-be t-two dollars an-and ten cen-cents." She stuttered through fushia colored braces.

Confused, I looked at her and narrowed my eyes. She abruptly flicked her vision down and began fidgeting with her fingertips. Extracting three one-dollar bills from my chained pocketbook, I asked her, "Are you okay?"

"Y-y-yes ma-ma-ma'am."

I placed the money on the counter and picked up my purchase. Cautiously, I told her, "Keep the change." Then I rushed for the sliding doors. They seem to know. They recognize me. How? I've not been here before. I wonder. No. He couldn't be. It's impossible. The doors opened. The wind whistled at me and nipped at my uncovered nose.

"Leaving so soon love?" a burly but boyish voice whispered into my ear from the shadows surrounding my truck.

"Who's there?" I asked anxiously.

"Only me dear." The voice muttered.

Then I saw the tips of those brown boots leading up into the outlines of blue jeans and a pale t-shirt materialize from the darkness. A wave of shock washed over my mind followed by an unexpected feeling of relief. I let out a sigh. "You frightened me. How did you get out here so quickly without me noticing you?"

"You needn't wonder about that. You'll soon not care to know."

"Oh will I?"

A wicked grin crossed his face. He clasped his hands behind his back and walked nonchalantly over to where I stood. He then wrapped his fingers around the box I was carrying and pulled it away from my hands. He placed the box in the front driver's side corner of the truck bed. "What you say me and you git out o' this one-horse town?"

I smiled and the blue orbs of my eyes brightened. "Gladly."

He pulled the truck door open and stood aside. "After you, Fallveil."

I took the hand he offered to me, stepped up onto the black nerf bar below the door, and lifted myself into the seat behind the spiked steering wheel. Before I had even turned the key in the ignition, he was already sitting in the passenger seat beside me.

"The black suits you. It forces your eyes to glow with such intensity."

"Funny you should think so, Fairway." I winked at him.

His green eyes sparkled mischeiviously. "Let's go!" He whooped.

Spinning up bits of crumbled asphalt, the truck raced across the dark parking lot and flew past the redlight without even a single thrust of the brakes. With my hands firmly planted on the steering wheel, I glared up into the rearview mirror.

The Fairway boy, hanging dangerously out of the window, shouted and howled into the icy night winds while watching the vanishing lights behind us.

Suddenly, and without warning, the darkness around the truck exploded with the sound of a thousand cannons. The sky lit up with a fiery blaze and a demonic joy overcrowded my thoughts. Having seen the criminal embers gleaming within his eyes, my prior intentions wavered. We were two of a rare kind. He, the Fairway boy, and I, the Fallveil girl, were the last of the Martyr's children. And together, we were indestructable.


© Copyright 2020 Casper Lasha Freed. All rights reserved.

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