Short Stories

17. Peanuts, Pebbles and a Guy Who Smooched

Sam went to her usual spot in the lake side—a small aclove hidden behind bushes with an old bench hidden behind it, facing the lake. But on the bench—her bench—a tall guy with coal hair was already seated. 

Sam went and sat down on the bench anyway. "Move it, Steve. This is my spot."

Steve didn't turn. "Is your name written here?"

She looked where he was looking. A lone duck was paddling in the lake, looking bored.

A sharp crackling cut through the air as she noisily tore open a packet of roasted peanuts. Steve glanced at her and quickly looked away.

She popped some peanuts in her mouth and crunched away. Steve's hand slithered towards the packet, but she snatched it away. "It's mine."

Steve grunted, his eyes still locked at the duck. Another loud noise cut through the air as Sam tore open a packet of Duck food.

"You carry this around with you?"

Sam threw him a look before tossing the grains towards the duck. "So what?"

Steve didn't answer. He managed to slip his hand in the packet of peanuts and popped some in his mouth. For some time, they sat in amiable silence, slowly munching away at the peanuts. Another duck joined the first one, this one a dusty grey, like the cloud looming above them. 

It was going to rain soon.

"If I tell you something, will you keep it quite?" Steve asked after a while. The packet of peanuts was half empty now.

"Nope."

Another duck came, an off white one, but by then the party was over. It swam around in circles, looking for leftovers.

"I asked Nora out."

Sam brushed off the dust underneath the packet of duck food. "Gosh, what a surprise."

Steve ignored her comment. "She said no."

"Plot twist, huh?" She pulled out a rubber band and tied up the packet, yawning.

Steve ignored that, too. "She already has a boyfriend."

"Wonder why."

The grey duck swam away, realizing that that was all the food he was getting from them that day.

"He is good-looking and muscular."

"I really can't imagine why she chose him over you."

Steve's shoulders slumped.

Sam reached up and patted his head. "I didn't mean it that way. I mean, you are not bad. She just has a different taste and—"

"I kissed him."

Splash!

For a while, both the friends liked to believe that it was Sam's jaw dropping into the lake. It was actually the packet of peanuts which was teetering at the edge of the bench, dangerously close to the lake, earlier.

Finally, Sam found her voice again. "You...what?"

Steve didn't answer. He slowly reached for the packet of duck food,untied it, and pulled out a handful of grains.

Sam nudged him in the shoulder.

Steve threw her an annoyed look, though his cheeks were tinged a soft pink.

She nudged him again. "You didn't tell me his name!"

He threw the food in the water. The off white one let out a happy quack and began helping itself. "I think I am going to call him Quack."

"Who names their boyfriend 'Quack'!"

This time, Steve punched her shoulder. "I am talking about the duck, dum dum."

"You still didn't tell me his name," Sam said while rubbing her shoulder, wincing.

"Edmund Mills."

A grin slowly spread across her tanned face, dimples appearing on her cheeks. "You are smitten, ain't cha?"

Maybe she was imagining it, but his shoulders relaxed and his eyes softened and, just for a moment, it seemed that he wasn't thinking about his boyfriend, but her.

"What?"

Steve shook his head. "I thought you'd be more surprised than this."

"Why?"

Steve didn't reply. He pushed the packet in her hands and stood up, stretching. There was a relieved smile in his face, though Sam didn't see it.

"Hope I don't see you around, then," he said as he brushed dust off his pants and walked away, knowing, without looking, that Sam was sitting there with a confused expression on her face.

She had been open minded about it all.

 A wave of pride surged through him. He knew without a doubt that, for once,  his choice of friends was not bad.

~*~*~*~*~10 December 2021~*~*~*~*~

I don't have much to say except that I love writing about Steve. He is a well full of mystery from which I can draw inspiration for ages and and guzzle it down like I hadn't had any in decades and still be thirsty. 

Steve recently came out in my mind, and I have various scenarios of it, but this one kinda stood out. Whether it was because it was the most recent one, or because this one was the easiest to write--didn't delve deep into his emotions here, did I?--I don't know. I just felt like writing this, and here we are.

But this A/N is stretching too long. Hope you enjoyed the read. And let me remind you, any constructive criticism and suggestion is welcome here.

Stay Safe!

~Anony

EDITED on January 4, 2022

RE-EDITED on January 29, 2022