Tell Me a Story | ✓

Coke and Pepsi

this is a different story. each chapter of this is a new 1-2 page short story of mine. i hope y'all enjoy :)

She holds out her hand, and that’s when I know that I’m gone. I’m sleeping. There’s no way in hell that I’m awake and she’s actually offering her hand to take in mine so that she could lead me away from the god-forsaken, terrible place called a “rock concert”.

But I blink and I quickly slide my hand down to my thigh and pinch myself and I feel the sting and she’s still there. Looking into her eyes one more time to make sure she’s serious and that this isn’t another one of her cruel pranks, I slide my hand into hers and remember the smile she gives me before she turns around and weaves through the drunken crowd.

I stumble over shoes and end up knocking a few obviously un-sober people down in the process of escaping the ear-piercing, sweaty, claustrophobic, moshing crowd. This is definitely not my ideal environment. But yet I’ve fallen for a girl whose environment is this and can’t even imagine opening a book or smelling the pages of an old Hemingway or even thinking of doing something the least bit educational outside of the school premises.

I’ve fallen for a girl who loves music with a passion and always has earphones with her and can’t imagine a second without something musical occurring around her – even if it’s tapping on a desk or humming melodies from Three Days Grace – and loves to sing and dance and everything in between. And that’s why I know we’re not meant to be.

But yet we’re here – her hand in mine, my heart racing and her favorite band playing in the background and her smile stuck in my mind. And when we reach the outskirts of the crowd, she pulls me toward her and looks into my eyes and gives me the look. The one that tells me we’re going to kiss in less than two seconds.

She gives me one of her smirks and tugs at the collar of my flannel to pull me down to her height. I smile at the sight of her – her hair sweaty and matted, skin shiny, eyes bright and full of adrenaline and excitement and lust.

And then we’re kissing.

And maybe we’re not right for each other, and maybe we’re both messed up in different ways, but here, right now, it didn’t matter. I liked her and she liked me and that was enough for now. Maybe it’s always been enough. And maybe we’re as different from each other as coke and pepsi and some people prefer one over the other, but who’s to tell us that what we’re doing is wrong at a time like this – when nothing felt wrong at all?