pt1: thirteen

Travis was lying in bed. It was summer, and the air was hot and sticky. He was not supposed to be lying in bed, but he was. 

His mom wasn’t home, but that was okay with Travis. Travis was 13, and in his opinion, that was old enough to stay home alone. He was very proud of this fact. 

Travis looked out his bedroom window, and looked down at the girl in the street. He narrowed his eyes, and walked downstairs. 

“What are you doing!” he shouted from the porch. The girl looked up with a wide smile on her face. “Lookin’ for bugs!” she shouted back. She waved him over. “Come look with me!”  He sighed, and stuck his hands into the pockets of his shorts. The girl was small, with a skinny frame and plain brown hair. She was the prettiest thing Travis had ever seen. He looked down at her for a moment more, and crouched down next to her. 

“What kind of bugs are you lookin’ for?” He asked, eyes focusing on her thin hands rummaging through the leaves in the gutter. She shrugged, and looked at him with a grin on her face. “Whatever I can find,” she said, big brown eyes creased in a smile. Her voice was slightly accented, and Travis thought it was the prettiest thing. Travis's insides felt a little warm at the sound of her voice, the soft lilt of her accent. 

He looked at the small gap in between her front teeth, and focused his gaze on her eyes again. He shuffled forward, and began rummaging through the leaves with her. She hummed quietly while they worked. Travis tried to focus on the task at hand, but his gaze kept wandering back to her. He looked at the small freckles that dotted her shoulder. 

“I don't think I’ve seen you before,” he said, gaze snapping back to her face when he felt her look at him. She nodded her head. “I moved here last week.” 

“Cool,” was all Travis said, looking back down. “What's your name?”

“Olivia. What's yours?” 

“Travis.” 

“Nice t’ meet you Tra-”

Olivia was interrupted by a man shouting. “Olivia!” he called from down the street, and Travis didn't miss the way she sighed, the way her shoulders slumped. “Coming!” she shouted back, standing up. She looked back at Travis, and said, “I'll see you tomorrow,” as she ran home. 

Travis did not see her the next day. 

After a week of waiting for Olivia to come back to look for bugs with him, Travis grew tired of waiting. One hot day, Jacob rang the doorbell of Travis’ house. Travis knew it was Jacob, because he didn't really have any other friends. Travis wondered if Olivia could be considered his friend. He opened the door for Jacob, who walked into the house like he owned it. 

Jacob made himself comfortable on the couch, and picked up the glass of soda Travis had been drinking. Travis sat next to him, and eyed his friend. Jacob exuded confidence in a way Travis did not. Jacob was tall for their age, with blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. He was the kind of kid that made old ladies go, “He's going to be popular with the ladies,” while wagging their eyebrows. Jacob was not popular with the ladies, not for lack of appearances, but because he didnt want to be. Travis wondered why that was. 

Jacob’s head whipped to face Travis. “Dude,” he said, handing the glass back to Travis. “What?” Travis asked, taking a sip from the cup. He wrinkled his nose when he found the soda to be flat. “You’re doing the zone out thing again. Did you hear a word I said?” Travis sat for a moment, and shook his head.

 “I was saying,” Jacob started again, “that you should go to the pool with me and some other kids this Saturday.” 

Travis shrugged. “Sure. Is it one of those stupid carpool things again?” Jacob shrugged, and returned his gaze to the screen. 

That night at dinner, Travis told his mom what Jacob had said. “Is Jacob's mom gonna take you?” she asked, setting her fork down on the plate. Travis shrugged. His mom sighed, and went back to her food. “I'll call her about it when I have some free time.” 

His mom did not call Jacob's about it. 

When Saturday rolled around, so did Mrs. Lewinsky’s station wagon. “Hi Travis!” She shouted over Jacob, who was sitting in the front seat. “Hi Mrs. Lewinsky,” travis replied, walking to the passenger window.

“You’re such a polite little boy,” she laughed, checking her rearview mirror. “We got one more kid to pick up and then we'll be on our way,” she said, a wide smile on her face, teeth unnaturally bright. Travis knew enough to know she bleached them. Travis also knew she only did it because her husband would call her mean things otherwise. “We'll meet the other kids at the pool.” 

“Okay,” Travis murmured, hugging his bag to his chest. To Mrs. Lewinsky's chagrin, Jacob crawled in the back and sat next to Travis. “You good?” Jacob whispered, eying Travis. Travis nodded his head, and balked when he saw Olivia running to the car. She was wearing the same outfit as she was last week, hair bouncing loosely around her shoulders. Travis's gaze was redirected from her, when he saw a woman's figure lurking in the doorway of her home. The figure moved forward, and followed Olivia out. “Hi,” Olivia said, waving at Travis, a broad smile on her face. 

“Hi,” he smiled back. “Olivia,” the woman said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Travis saw Jacob watching the interaction out of the corner of his eye, trying to piece together how Travis and Olivia knew each other. Travis knew Jacob could be good at putting the pieces together. 

When Travis looks back on this moment, or any memory really, of Olivia's mother, she's pale, skin sallow, dark hair pulled back into a bun, dressed in black. When Travis met Olivias’ mother when he was older, he knew the image his young self had wasn't true, but in his young mind Olivias’ mother was the scariest person he'd ever met. She was still the scariest person he'd met even when he was an adult. 

Travis was surprised when Olivia's mom sat up front. She said nothing, not even making small talk with Mrs. Lewinsky. Jacob's mom knew better than to start anything. She was scarily good at that. The car ride there was quiet, oppressive. Olivia sat next to Jacob, shoulders hunched, and Travis shook his leg up and down. 

When they got to the pool, Olivia didn't swim. She sat at the edge, still in her clothes from the car trip, looking ready to cry, but didn’t dare get in. “Are you sure?” Mrs. Lewinsky asked, glancing at Olivia's mother. “I'm sure,” she nodded, trying to cover up the way her voice trembled with a smile. “Okay then,” Mrs. Lewinsky replied, sitting back down. 

Travis was with Jacob, absentmindedly swimming while Jacob and his friends talked. “Jesus, Travis,” one called out, “Calm down.” Travis looked at him. Neil. Neil was… something. He had been held back a grade, so even though he would be starting seventh grade with them that year, he was fourteen. “Sorry,” Travis replied, swimming back to their group. 

Neil followed Travis’ gaze. “Ayyyyy,” he shouted, clapping Travis’ shoulder. Travis looked down at where Neils’ hand was, and looked back at Olivia. “She's cute,” Neil said, dragging the words out.

“I guess,” Travis shrugged, brushing Neils’ hand off.

“Psh, cute,” one of Jacob's other friends, Chris, scoffed. Travis squinted his eyes at the boy, and wiped water out of his eyes. 

After that day, Travis became very aware of two things. One, Olivia’s mother was scary. Two, Travis wasn't the only one with his eye on Olivia. 

 

Travis didn't see much of Olivia again until school started. He knocked on the door of Olivia's house the day school started, to ask if she would walk to school with him, when a man he assumed was her father opened the door. Travis had stuttered out his question, and walked away dejectedly when he said no. 

After that, Travis saw next to nothing of Olivia. One rainy night, about a week into the new school year, there was a rapping on his bedroom window. Travis opened it to see Olivia. Travis wasn't sure if she was crying, or if it was rain from outside. When he let her in, he saw indeed it was tears. He pulled her into a hug, and guided her to his bed. He got her a towel from the bathroom, and pulled out a t-shirt and shorts from his chest of drawers. 

Travis left her in the room to change, and when he came back in, they didn't say anything until she had stopped crying.  He sat at the bed, and patiently waited until she stopped crying. “‘M moving away,” she said, starting to hiccup. Travis looked at her from where he sat on the bed, looked at her arms wrapped around her shoulders. “My ma ‘n dad jus’ had a huge fight over it.” She looked up at him, eyes still filled with tears.

“Where to?” Travis breathed out.

“‘M not sure,” she said, shrugging. “They don't tell me anythin’.”

“Oh,” Travis sighed. “Will you write me letters?” 

Olivia shrugged. “‘Course.” She leaned on his shoulder. “You’re the only friend I really have here.” 

Olivia and her family left a week after that. She wrote Travis one letter with the words, “I miss you,” and that was it. Travis didn't hear from her again. 

Reviews

[JayG]

There's an old saying that, “Anything worth doing is worth doing well.” Add to that, "Look before you leap; Read the instructions; and, Learn the ropes."

You need to apply those to yourself, because to add one more observation: What you’re doing is "Fumbling your way through."

Why do I say that? Because this is written as a report. One declarative sentence follows another, providing a chronicle of events in the life of fictional people. And who reads reports for entertainment?

So, while I support your desire to write fiction, you need more than the nonfiction writing skills we learned in school. For anyone but yourself to “get it” when they read your work, just as we need more than what was learned in Health Class to perform surgery, you need the skills of the Fiction Writing profession to write it.

So, hit the library or bookseller sites and check a few books on the basics, like Debra Dixon’s, GMC: Goal Motivation & Conflict.

To quote another saying: Read the instructions, first.

[Lexasaurus]

Hi, I'm actually a teenager and only post my works to get feedback from others, which brings me to the fact that your "constructive criticism" is just rude and passive aggressive.

Hope this helps!