My Best Friend's Mediocre Boyfriend

Go Suck A...

Matt

I closed my eyes, listening to the roar of the waves as they lapped against the sunny shore. It felt as though I were vacationing in the tropics. Only I wasn't. Because it was the middle of winter in Connecticut.

But regardless of the time of year, the beach was my home. And it was where I came to mourn the loss of my pet goldfish, Pepperidge Farm.

I imagined Peppy swimming free in the saltwater sea. But that would have also led to his demise because goldfish are freshwater creatures. So, I immediately cleared the thought from my head and proceeded to get even more bummed that any fish I owned would never be able to partake in my interests.

Instead, I tried to focus on the positive.

Memories swirled around in my head as I envisioned all the fun times that Peppy and I had shared together, such as when I would stare at him while he swam or when I had to clean his tank.

Nothing could ever replace the bond that we had built.

I repeat, nothing. Not even a romance with a woman. Is that understood, Vanessa?

Sighing, I took a swig of my apple juice. It did nothing to numb out my sadness and it was full of sugar so really, it was useless. It wouldn't even count towards one of my eight glasses of water.

I sprawled out across the sand, my fingers resting on a seashell. I held it up to inspect it in the glare of the sun. The edge was sharp, and I sucked in sharply through my teeth.

"Gee willikers, this thing is dangerous. I better toss this back into the ocean so that no one will hurt themselves on it." 

But that was me. A considerate person who always looked out for everyone's best interest, including my own. 

As I tossed the broken bit out into the crash of the waves, I heard voices.

A tall man with fire engine red hair was strolling down the beach, his arm linked through his companion's. The other guy had dark locks and no notable features so that's where the description ends.

Unless you want to hear that sort of thing. I once failed to describe a classroom in enough detail and almost wound up being put into the stocks for it, so let me take a minute to paint a picture of my surrounding visuals.

The man had about a million strands of licorice hued hair that danced about his crinkled forehead as though they were the Sugar Plum Fairy. The white blood cell count inside his circulatory system was quite healthy and he had an average temperature of ninety-seven degrees Fahrenheit.

His father was of Italian heritage while his mother's grandparents hailed from England. He wore yellow socks.

And he was my mortal enemy.

His name was Scott, and his redheaded friend was Troy.

They snickered as they got closer, and I just knew that they were laughing about me. They seemed keen on always being mean to me. Their taunts often plagued my mind in a loop.

"Matt's hair looks okay today," they would whisper to each other.

"I like his shirt, but I think he looks better in blue."

"Perhaps, next time you'll score a hundred on your test. Keep trying."

I quaked in fear as they drew near, wondering what insults they would hurl my way that day.

"Aren't you cold without a jacket on?" Troy asked me, frowning.

I clenched my fists, growing tired of his demands.

"Wear a jacket."

"Take my lunch money since you didn't bring any food today."

"Let me tutor you in math class."

I wrapped my arms around my waist to ward off the bone-chilling breeze. "I'm fine," I muttered. "Go suck an egg." 

Scott raised his palms. "We're only concerned. My mom is running a coat drive. I could snag you a jacket if you don't have one."

"Stop flaunting your material wealth in my face!" I shouted at him. "You two are such bullies towards me, and I'm growing tired of it."

"Hey," Troy soothed. "There is no need to get feisty with us. We're your friends, remember?"

"What's the matter with you?" I replied, throwing a clump of sand at their shoes. Nothing was worse than sandy socks so I knew that would show them not to mess with me.

"I told you to go suck an egg!" I yelled. "And I hope you bite your lip too."

That was also a really annoying thing to have happen, and I knew from personal experience that it was nearly impossible to heal from that as the puffy part only seemed to make it an easier target for teeth. It was a vicious cycle of biting the lip once the process had already begun.

The boys glanced at one another and shrugged their shoulders. "Alright, let's leave him alone, I guess," Troy mumbled. "If that's what he wishes then we shall respect his boundaries."

Good, I thought, chucking another fistful of sand their way. Stay gone. I despise bullies.

***

Vanessa's POV

Flowers bloomed against the windowpane even though it was the dead of winter. However, since this is a piece of literature, I could have literally sprouted wings and flown off if I so desired. So, we can look past certain things that aren't always hyper realistic.

I sighed wistfully because my life was just so perfect, and I felt sad for all the people that weren't as content as I was. So lost in thought was I over how amazing everything was for me, I hadn't even noticed Ryan strut into the coffee shop as though he were an alley cat.

But before I get into that, I will back it up a second because I forgot to note a description of my surroundings. There was coffee because, duh and tables and chairs. Will that suffice?

Good.

"Ryan!" I called to him as he paid for a donut. But he didn't seem to hear me, so I stood on top of the table and cupped my hands around my mouth. "Ryan!"

With wide eyes, he whirled around and spread his arms. "Vanessa! What are the odds of us running into each other here?"

I sat back down on my chair. "Pretty high, I should say since we need to be thrust into a situation that forces us to interact with one another so that we can build our connection to make our story more suspenseful."

"Ah," he replied, a light of understanding dawning upon his face. "Shall we engage in some light banter before launching into a meaningful conversation, perhaps?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "Confess all of your trauma within the first ten minutes of knowing me, and I'll share mine as well to really establish that we are kindred spirits with more in common than we realize."

He chuckled before glancing down at his watch with a frown. "Uh-oh. It appears that it's time for me to leave as this scene is dragging on a bit too long, and we don't want to bore our audience."

I gave him a pat on the back, sending him along on his way. "Don't worry. No one will remember our conversation anyways, but that's okay. Our interaction was enough to rattle some nerves."

Question of the day: Are your nerves rattled?