Blue’s life was a cliché. Or so she liked to think. She rarely watched movies centered on a character with cancer. She decided a long time ago that life was way, way too short to waste time on watching movies about fake people faking a disease she had for real.
But the times she did, by some weird chance, watch a movie of the likes she noticed one thing: the victim always had those two things: a list of things they had to finish (which they somehow did before dying—like sometimes a day before. What the hell was that?) and a beautiful boy slash girl who helped them do it. And they always had it in an inconspicuous place. Behind a poster in their room; in their writing journal; scrawled onto a yellowing sheet of paper stuck between the pages of their favorite book.
So thirteen-year-old Blue had written her list along with perfect, little squares next to them out onto a sheet of crisp, white printer paper in her best handwriting and folded it into her grandma’s old, red briefcase. Then she slid it underneath her bed. She figured that thirteen was a bit too young to start checking off each of her perfect, little squares.
But now it was Blue’s sixteenth birthday. It was supposed to be magical, right? Sweet sixteen? So far, all she had done was wish for yet one more year while blowing her candles out (and maybe also a car) and she had gotten the new Disney movie from her moms. And once her two best (see: only) friends left she had trudged upstairs, planning to maybe watch the movie on her laptop. But she fell back onto her bed a bit too forcefully and it screeched a few inches to the right on the wooden floor. She winced and sat back up, only to have the backs of her ankles hit something hard. Slowly, Blue peered under her bed and to her utter bewilderment, there sat the red briefcase within a pool of filth. She had forgotten but now that she remembered, a slow grin slipped onto her face. Because, maybe, her sixteenth would be sweet after all.
Blue grabbed the case by the handle and flipped it open on her bed, ignoring the grime settling on her comforter. The paper was surprisingly still moderately white and when she opened it daintily, a puff of dust burst out, prying a cough out of her pursed lips. Her eyes found the first one and Blue twisted her mouth in disgust at her old handwriting. She wrote like that? Jesus.
☐ Hug the first person I see on the streets
She read. Okay. Simple enough. So with a shrug she displaced the netting on her window and carefully climbed down. Even after so many years of practice in the field of sneaking out (lesbian mothers weren’t nearly as compliant as some might think) she was still terrified of falling to her early, early death. Only when both of her feet landed on the soft grass did Blue let out her breath and she made her way to the front of the house, looking around. The sun was setting and the sky was turning pink and blue, resembling something quite like the bowls Blue used to mix strawberry and blueberry Gogurt together in when she was seven.
Right at that moment a car came to a spluttering stop next to the sidewalk squares between Blue’s house and the one next to it. Grinning giddily, she walked to the driver’s door and tapped on it. When the boy inside looked up his eyebrows rose and Blue backed up, bouncing on the balls of her feet while waiting for him to open the door. Finally, he did and she surged forwards, flinging her arms around his neck. She heard a confused “Uh,” vibrate through the boy’s chest (her head was pressed against it because he was so fucking tall) and finally let go after a few moments. She dragged a hand through her hair and smiled at the boy before her, letting her eyes roam over his frame. He was lean. His hair was short and light brown and his eyes looked like they couldn’t decide between blue and gray and his dark brows were furrowed at her.
“Are you drunk?” he spoke first and Blue blinked.
“Um, no. But I am sixteen, today,” she smiled and he rose an unimpressed brow.
“Happy birthday, kid.”
“Kid? Excuse me, asshole, but you don’t look much older than me, yourself.”
“I’m seventeen.”
“Exactly,” she huffed and crossed her arms.
“Exactly.” He pronounced carefully, as if she were a kindergartener.
“Ex-actly.”
“Ex-actly.”
“You’re annoying.”
“You’re the one who hugged me all of a sudden.”
“Hey, I like your eyes,” Blue blurted out suddenly and the boy blinked. His hand went to the back of his head, scrunching his hair with his long fingers. Blue had also decided a while ago that life was too short to be too embarrassed to give out compliments freely. Same went with insults, and that was the main reason for why she only had two friends, not including her parents.
“Um. Thanks, I guess.”
And then Blue realized that the boy in front of her was quite attractive in a twisted kind of way and she was sick with a bucket list, and this was the moment she was waiting for.
“I have a list. Of things I want to do before I die,” she started and the boy rested a hip on his car, as if sensing this might take a while.
“You mean like a bucket list?”
“Yeah. No. No, it’s not like a bucket list. It is a bucket list.”
The boy threw his arms up in a surrendering position, though he didn’t look very submissive.
“And I think you should help me finish them.”
“Why?” he peered at her suspiciously and she shrugged.
“Because I don’t have a very long time to live and you’re relatively gorgeous, and I think you should. Plus, you can drive,” she gestured to his sedan. “and I can’t.”
“You think I’m gorgeous?” he smirked and she huffed. Of course. He was a boy, so naturally that was all he got from what she said.
“I said relatively. So? How about it?”
“What’s in it for me?” he asked and she smiled.
“Do you have a bucket list?”
The boy scoffed.
“No.”
“Well, if you help me with this, you’ll have a completed bucket list,” she answered simply.
“Who said you would complete it?” he challenged and she snorted in a silly boy manner.
“Oh, trust me, I will complete it.”
A/N:
Hey, it's Nova again :D Yes, this is a new short story. Obviously. I kind of like having a short story I'm working on always next to my main stories. I dunno, because the chapters are shorter and I don't need to plan a lot for them? I just really like writing shorts and since BB is finished, I came up with this today :0)
It's gonna be a bit different from my other stuff, but I really hope you like it :D
Dedicated to Solicitude because I think both her works are incredible and I am hopelessly in love with Handcuffed Hugs.
Vote? Comment?
-Nova.
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The Bucket List
Short Story[a story] in which an ailing girl checks off everything on her bucket list with a little help from her weirdly attractive neighbor. [spiritual #8 // short story #41] WARNING: this shit is cheesy as hell i wanna gouge my eyes out
