Short Stories

twelve | wrong number

I glanced out the window of the car at the familiar house. It was small and light blue colored, with a white porch in front that cats liked to hang out under. The entire perimeter of the front yard was covered in different varieties of flowers, my favorite being the small white and pink ones that spread throughout the entire neighborhood in a matter of days, brightening the atmosphere. The flowers always reminded me of home.

I snapped out of my thoughts before I got lost in the misty fields of my sentimental side. We were at Taylor's house to say hi to her family before we drove to the same destination we had driven to for the past three years, a breakfast and brunch place run by a lady named Judy. I would always get their home style, homemade pancakes with bananas and Nutella.

My hand moved to pull the handle and popped the door open. I slid out of my seat. My feet landed far from each other, and with a quick clever idea, I fidgeted in the snow until my footprints resembled two hearts. The hearts were colored green by the grass that had been buried beneath the snow but was now uncurling up to the sky. I smiled at my work.

I hopped out of the hearts and up the pathway. Taylor was already there, sitting on the edge of the staircase like a child waiting for a playdate. She smiled and unlocked the door.

"Merry Christmas Eve!" she exclaimed. She hugged me.

"Hi!" I replied and hugged her back. My mouth dropped open. "We really just wore the same sweatshirt."

She looked at me then herself and laughed. It was a cast sweatshirt for "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" with the green silhouette of the Grinch. on the front. It was a play we painted sets in for last year's Christmas, almost as a joke but it turned out to be one of the funnest things we had done together.

Taylor's parents came down the stairs and said hi to me.

"You look like more of a woman every year!" Mrs. Swift said. She said that every time she saw me, and every time my face turned red.

"Hi honey," Mr. Swift greeted, to which I smiled and replied with a hello.

My parents got out of the car and walked up to the door with the rest of us. Our parents started talking and even though Taylor and I were kinda-sorta growing towards being adults like them, we still walked away and began playing in the snow.

"So how's everything?" I asked. I silently patted some snow into a ball.

"We FaceTimed last night," she laughed. "Not much has changed."

I laughed back. "Okay... then tell me a story while the parents are talking. Any story, real, fake, whatever."

Taylor knew I usually didn't let her ramble about her stories like this so she gladly went off about one of her worst school stories from before we knew each other. She had been talking about a substitute teacher she had for English for a few minutes when I threw the snowball at her shoulder.

"She totally played the, "Can you go to the bathroom or may you- hey!" she yelled. "Oh you're gonna pay for that."

She scooped up a ball of snow and chucked it in my direction. The clump of snow hit the tree behind me and disintegrated into a cloud of white powder. I shrieked and picked up another snowball and hit her on the back of her jacket with this one.

"I'm surprised you haven't caught on yet," I called out playfully. "I jump scare you with snowballs every year!"

"Well I'm surprised you haven't realized that I never, and I mean never, lose a snowball fight."

She turned around armed with a dozen snowballs piled in her arms and a dangerous, evil looking grin on her face. "Attack!" she screamed and threw the snowballs at me one after another. I shrieked and fell to the ground in a pile of laughter, feeling her fall next to me shortly after.