Forks

by A.E. Davis

twenty six

  I should be dead, but apparently, you can’t really die of embarrassment. I underlined the sentence twice and put a few exclamation points on the end. I slammed my journal shut and tossed it back inside my nightstand. Tinkerbelle wobbled on top and settled back down. The figurine was one of the only things my father had given me that I actually kept out so I could see every day. It reminded me of when I was little and he had read Peter Pan to me. I never much cared for Wendy or her brothers but Tink she was cool. I could relate to her and Peter, both. They were the stars of my own imaginary version of an unrequited love story.

  Inflating my cheeks, I released a long stream of air and hugged my pillow. I still couldn’t wrap my head around what even happened with Viktor…really. After the almost kiss that turned into a gagging fit he couldn’t get me home fast enough. He said he wasn’t feeling well and I barely said goodbye before he gunned his SUV, backed crazily out of the driveway, and sped down the road.

  Once again, I blew on my hand to check my breath but all I could smell was the faint trace of cinnamon from my mouthwash.

  “Too weird.” I shook my head. Not having anything better to do, I grabbed up the book Glinda had bought me, crawled under my covers and began to read. I wasn’t going to read Twilight, anymore, but it was a surprisingly good book. I could relate to the heroine pretty well…we were both in a strange place, vertically challenged and prone to embarrassing ourselves. And I didn’t even mind the Vampires that sparkled either. It wasn’t Bram Stoker or even Anne Rice or Stephen King, but it did have its allure….forbidden love always made for a good read.

  I made a mental note to blog about it when I was finished… that is if I ever got back on the internet. My connection was sluggish at best.

  After reading for an hour or so, my mind kept wandering off the pages of the book and back into my own life, or lack thereof. Giving up, I leaned over and flicked off the light. Pulling my comforter up to my chin, I snuggled down. Viktor’s story kept replaying, as did the evening at the hospital. Had Glinda’s eyes been open? Had someone put that chair in front of me? Had Viktor really wanted to kiss me? There were too many questions and not any answers. I tried to make my mind stop whirling and think of something else. I started counting sheep but then they turned into wolves that eventually turned into bats before I finally fell into a fitful sleep.