Writing Forums is a privately-owned, community managed writing environment. We provide an unlimited opportunity for writers and poets of all abilities, to share their work and communicate with other writers and creative artists. We offer an experience that is safe, welcoming and friendly, regardless of your level of participation, knowledge or skill. There are several opportunities for writers to exchange tips, engage in discussions about techniques, and grow in your craft. You can also participate in forum competitions that are exciting and helpful in building your skill level. There's so much more for you to explore!

Tops (1 Viewer)

Not open for further replies.


Senior Member
Okay, quick little short story I wrote for a school event.


My friend Derek sidled up to me in the main hallway as I walked towards our homeroom. He had to force his way through several thick packs of chattering, basically all-out fangirl-ing classmates of ours just to reach me. I had an idea of what he was going to go on about, and I didn’t like it.
“Dude,” he said, out of breath. “Guess what? Andrea Moore’s into someone new. Won’t tell us, though—being real secretive about the whole thing,”
I spun on Derek, suddenly very irritated and angry. “One,” I said, jabbing a finger in his face, “dude, that’s old news. I’m completely oblivious to everything but the new World of Warcraft patch, my 4.0 GPA, and the latest plot twist on Battlestar Galactica and even I knew that. Two, this literally happens every two weeks. I don’t see why you guys get so worked up about this. If I had a list of every jock Andrea’s ‘dated’—and by dated I mean NOT TALKED TO AT ALL FOR THE SPAN OF THE RELATIONSHIP—I’d have a list of the entire grade and then some.” Of course, the entire grade excluding me. “In one and a half weeks she’ll get bored of spreading the asinine rumor that she’s dating someone new and move on to her next victim. I give this stupid ‘relationship’ eight days. Tops.”
Derek stared at me for a beat. I still seethed, my hormones all out of whack from my little rant there. Blinking, he just shrugged and walked off. “Tops,” I muttered to myself.

After biology in homeroom, we had a free period. Mr. McArma was off running an errand, most of the class killed the period throwing paper balls at each other and gossiping about Andrea’s latest endeavor. As luck would have it, the man-izer herself was sitting right next to me, slouching smugly in her chair while her reputation soared and crashed at the same time.
After easily the fifth person in the last five minutes asked me if I had heard about Andrea—including Derek—, it was just too much. Drawing from all the courage I’d saved up hiding in my room and slaying boars and pandaren for the majority of my life, I turned in my seat and did the unthinkable, the unmentionable. I broke the number one law in the nerd Bible—I initiated personal contact.
With a girl.
My cynical, sarcastic mind was on overdrive, half of it figuring out how the heck I was going to talk to Andrea, and the other half trying frantically to stop it, promising me all the expansion packs, strategy guides and collector’s editions money could buy. I actually think I went into legitimate cardiac arrest for a few seconds.
“Alright, Andrea, answer me this,” I said, hoping my voice wasn’t cracking. To my amazement, Andrea didn’t make a face and turn away in disgust. Years of searching for hidden loot in WoW had trained my eyes well; I noticed that Andrea actually blushed a tiny, tiny bit. Weird. “How can you possibly retain any satisfaction from engaging in a relationship with someone, and then calling it off and dumping them—publicly—two weeks later?”
“Because,” Andrea answered after a second, terrifyingly playfully. “Then I get to do this.” Alright, this time I did go into cardiac arrest. I’d seen enough stupid chick-flick ads on YouTube and Reddit to know what was coming next.
One of Andrea’s slender, manicured hands lightly rested on the thigh of my jeans, while the other wound its way up to the side of my face. Her eyes closed (mine didn’t, naturally; I’m just awesome like that) as our lips met in a glorious fanfare of spiraling emotions. My brain turned to a pile of mush. At that point, I forgot my morals, my ethics, my rules. I forgot what would inevitably happen next week. I was in too much bliss.
We parted with an embarrassing smacking sound that seemed way too incredibly loud and awkward, but wasn’t, and I held her gaze for a solid three seconds, praying to God I wasn’t shaking as much as I thought I was. Half the class was staring at us. I was pretty sure the other half was unconscious.
“That’s—that’s a valid argument,” I said.
Not open for further replies.

Users who are viewing this thread