Short Story Bakery: A Night To Remember

Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

8:17PM A Cool Huntington Beach California Evening     

     "Leave her the fuck alone Megan!"

     "Priscilla stop fucking defending Quasimodo, she's going to see just what happens when she fucks with other peoples' boyfriends!"

     "She didn't do anything Megan! HE started talking to HER!"

     Megan pushed Veronica down in the middle of the quad, dozens of curious eyes bearing witness to the event. Shouts of "Quasimodo go back to your bell tower!" Could be heard among the trickles of laughter. 

     "Oh look, are those spots of dirt on your face? Oh no? That's natural isn't it Quasimodo?" Megan said as she looked down at Veronica.

     "I...I didn't do anything, I'm sorry Megan," Veronica said mortified with tears in her eyes. 

     "Have some milk, you ugly bitch," Megan grabbed a carton of milk and poured it all over Veronica, "Don't ever fucking talk to MY boyfriend again," Megan said as she walked away triumphantly.

     The school staff intervened, herding the gathered students like cattle to their classes. Priscilla returned after everyone dispersed to see Veronica sitting outside the school office in her change of P.E. clothes with dried milk in parts of her short wavy black hair--the milk remnants giving off a sour pungent scent. Veronica was staring down at the cracks in the concrete floor.

     "Vee...don't worry, you only have two more years at this school," Priscilla said quietly.

     Veronica looked up at Priscilla, speechless, with tears in her dull green eyes.

     "Vee, are you okay honey?"  

With Friends Like These I'd Love Some More Enemies

You're my best friend, but I'd love to see you fail so fucking hard.

(This bitch.)

The "frenemy": people in life who remain close, portray themselves as a "friend" when, in fact, they'd just love to take a shit on your day.

 "OH WOW BRIAN I HAVE SO MANY PEOPLE IN MY LIFE LIKE THIS!" Oh don't we all? At one point or another I've had to cut them out like the intake of rotten foods from my diet, because these people are indeed rotten. I COULD just rant about these shit disturbers, but I have a theory as to why these people love to act like Judas. I mean understanding the "why," that's how we get to the root of any problem right boys and girls?

Short Story Bakery: The Vagabond

A Common Cold

9:06PM on a cool Sunday Southern California Evening.  

     "You really want this?"

     "Yes, I'm certain. I want to work this out, even though I like you a lot--I like my boyfriend more."

     Her beautiful brown eyes were piercing--his voice cracked, he was in complete disbelief. This person, this amazing person whom had been around for so long had finally placed all of the necessary nails in the coffin of this "relationship."

     They resembled a young couple attending the Hard Rock Cafe, but this particular moment in time didn't catch the carefree nature of such a couple.Their attire consisted of the casually informal flavor. His tall average builded stature wore a dull plaid shirt made up of greys, blacks, and blues, skinny black jeans, and a pair of black classic Nikes--all complemented his pale complexion and short choppy dark hair. Her hourglass Victoria's Secret model body rocked a black cardigan, black jeans, and a Led Zeppelin T-shirt--her evenly tanned complexion along with her long dark hair placed a dark alluring aura of mystery. Both rock stars in their own right.

     "Are you kidding me? Look at me. Do you have any idea what you're missing out on?" His light brown eyes gleamed under his bedroom ceiling light as he gazed directly into hers.

     "I need to give him another chance, regardless of what we've been through."

     "Do you love him or something?" His high jawline clinched, not because he wanted to be with her desperately, but because of the guilt he would bring unto himself if he may have interfered with her love for another person.