Cherry - part 26

Cherry

Flying

He can make me laugh – that's what she has been thinking all night. Sometimes, when she watch TV, there's some single girls who are asked 'What is the most important quality in a man?' and usually, if it's a bad TV show, they say 'I want my guy to be sooooo hot and looking like a fucking model, otherwise I'm not touching him.' and sometimes, if it's a slightly better TV show, they say 'I want a funny, sensitive guy who can make me laugh when I least expect it.' and that's how she feels now – laughing when she doesn't expect it. Percival can do that to her, and that makes her happy. She's long gone in her thoughts, and they walk around the restaurant and around the town, slowly, of course.

“It's nice here.” She says, and realizes how stupid she sounded. She also think about how Percival have been a little off this evening – maybe he's not feeling well.

“This is nice.” He says, and they are quiet again. She doesn't know what to say.

“So Zia's back home from Paris. That must be nice.” She looks at him, waiting. Maybe he doesn't want to talk about his sister. She could imagine if it's always about her.

“It is.” He says, in a flat voice. She wonders if it's a bad idea to mention his sister, but she didn't know what else to say.

“I'm not mad at her. I just realized I sounded like that.” He was mumbling and she wasn't convinced, yet she nodded and smiled at him.

“It's weird she never introduced us when she was my babysitter.”

“Yeah, I've wondered the same as well.” And then they were quiet again. The sound of their footsteps turned into a tune in her head. They had walked quite a while now, and even though she hung on every word he said, she couldn't help but be amazed by the flickering lights. The sun was going down and the sky was a beautiful mix of red, orange, yellow and blue. No cloud to be seen for miles. She could see the moon.

“How do you think it would have been if we were friends back then?” He said, forcing her to concentrate once again. She heard it in her head, 'friends'. Were they friends now?

“Are we friends now?” She asked, before she could think too much about it. He looked at bit shocked at her.

“Well, don't you think we get along nicely?”

“Why, yes, I do. But does that make us friends?” She heard her own accusing voice, and was saddened by that. Yet she couldn't help it. As if she couldn't control her own mouth.

“I don't know. I guess I just assumed...” His voice trailed off, and suddenly she remembered what Cathy had said about confidence, when they met the first time. She had ruined his confidence, and she immediately felt bad. He was walking beside her. They were alone. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered suddenly, and she realized she had been ignoring them for long time. Her shoulders were tense and she could feel how she hadn't relaxed since they left the restaurant. Was she nervous? That would be logical, and judging by the butterflies, she was nervous. Then he looked at him again and realized she was afraid. What if she had been let down – like he had? By her. She walked in front of him and stopped.

“I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be like that.” She said. His head crooked to the left side and looked behind her, raising an eyebrow. She looked at his hand and wondered if she should take it to empathize her point. She trembled – where was she even going with this?

“I really want to be your friend, but a friendship is built upon shared trust, and...” she paused, but realized she didn't know what to say if he answered now. She had to keep going. “Well, we're merely acquaintances now. I want us to be friends. Maybe even...”

“I want to be your friend as well.” He smiled. She noticed how his voice suddenly sparkled with confidence. Just a bit more. He took a small step closer. The next few seconds seemed like an eternity. She flew out of her body, watching them standing face to face from above. In the most surreal way – almost slow-motion, she watched him lean closer to her body, slower and slower as he approached. He's going to kiss me now, she thought, and she felt how she moved back and forth in the air. Her body on the ground didn't move at all. What am I going to do? Why is he kissing me? You cannot kiss anyone you don't know? Isn't a kiss supposed to mean something? Something special? What the hell is he doing?

She watched her body move backwards and he stopped leaning forward, looking ashamed at her.

“I'm sorry.” He said. And she was back in her body, looking right into his eyes.

“I don't know why I did that.” He said, and started to walk back again. She stared at him.

“I don't know why I did that either.” She answered, and he smiled. It was in the air that no other words had to be spoken. They understood each other, and she felt closer to him now.

They were back to the restaurant before she knew it. They went separate ways.

And they didn't hug.

Cherry - part 25

Percival

Candles

He arrived alone at 7 o'clock, sharp. He had to walk to the restaurant, even though he knew he would probably sweat a little. He was so darn nervous he had to walk some of the anxiety off. Half an hour left, and his mother and father, Mr. and Mrs. Waltz and Cherry would arrive. They'd sit a table and eat, and his dad and Mr. Waltz would talk business. His mom and Mrs. Waltz would probably talk about the other housewives and gossip about the latest news inside their own circle.

And himself and Cherry? He had no clue.

A car pulled up to the entrance. His parents walked out of the car and the driver drove home.

“I didn't think you'd beat us to it.” His dad said teasingly. Percival laughed nervously. His mother hugged him with one arm. Percival stood perfectly still.

“We'll just go to our table now and take a good look at the wine card. Would you like to come?” His dad was almost inside the restaurant.

“I'll just breathe some fresh air. I'll find you in there.” He answered, and his mother muttered 'fine', and so they walked away. What should he do if Mr. and Mrs. Waltz came? What would he say to them? Should he also decline their offer to join them in entering the restaurant, if it happened that they asked? What would be the proper thing to do? He started pacing back and forth, and sometimes he got eye contact with the head waiter, who gave him a strange look, even when he was on the phone. When he saw the black car, his heart seemed to beat in his throat and his head started to spin. He knew it was her. The Aston Martin V12 Vanquish shined as if it had just been polished, and who would drive a car like that, other than Cherry?

And he was right. Her driver, a short guy with big eyes and messy, spiky hair, opens her door. He smiles with scarily white teeth, and she looked ten times as beautiful as he remembered her. Her fancy shoes was high and made her really tall, she wore a light green dress reaching her knee, like she was the most fancy gift wrapped in a simple, but beautiful wrapping. Just the way she walked seemed different. Maybe it was the shoes.

“Hello, Cherry.” He says as she approaches him. She flashes a wonderful smile. The flutter in his stomach is getting worse. Wonder if he can eat anything tonight?

“Percival, it's so good to see you again.” And she hugs him. The feeling from their first hug flashes in him again like heat waves.

“I really like your car. It's so cool.” They walk together into the restaurant.

“Yes, it's pretty neat. Have my parents arrived yet?” She checks her watch at her wrist, and Percival stares at her and gets lost in thought. He doesn't even listen. She looks at him, waiting.

“What?” He asks and looks down at himself. He doesn't notice anything different.

“Have they arrived?” She asks, slowly. As if he's an idiot. He might be, in her presence.

“Who?” He asks, and her awaiting gaze looks so puzzled he cannot help himself, and laughs.

“My parents?”

“Not yet...” He says, and wants to say something more, but he doesn't. He is afraid of losing his ability to speak when she's around.

“May I help you?” The head waiter asks. He can tell they are important people. It's a fine place, but no one dresses that fancy if they are not important in any way.

“The Cryx party awaits us.” Percival says in a fine, deep voice.

“Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Waltz.” They laugh, nervously.

“No, we are not Mr. and Mrs. Waltz. That's my parents. That's Mr. and Mrs. Cryx's son, and I'm the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Waltz.” Cherry explains to the waiter. He smiles.
“I'm so sorry. You are a cute couple. Have a nice evening.” They laugh again.

“Thanks, but we're not really a couple. Just... friends....” Percival looks into her eyes as she explains to the waiter again. Her voice cracks when she says that they are not a couple. And then she smiles again, along with the teacher, who mumbles something like 'well that's a shame', and they are walked to the table, where his parents are waiting. The talk goes on wine and which one would fall in Mr. and Mrs. Waltz's taste.

“Hello Mr. Cryx, hello Mrs. Cryx.” Cherry says and her and Percival places themselves at the far left of the table, away from his parents. Only a few moments later Mr. and Mrs. Waltz arrive. Percival doesn't dare say a thing. He looks at Cherry from his menu card when she's not looking. Their fathers are already talking about business. Their mothers gossip about the housewives. It's exactly like he expected.

They order. He doesn't listen to what the others order, and when the waiter leaves, he can barely remember what he ordered himself. The wine comes and he and Cherry both ordered a Coke. Hers was a diet, his was a regular.

“So how was work today?” Cherry asks, and he has to think about how to talk before he answers.

“Well, my dad is right there,” he answers in a low tone, “I cannot answer that.” And then they laugh.

Cherry's laughter fills the room and he's wondering why the other people are not looking at her. Why wouldn't they wonder where such a laugh comes from? He looks at her mouth as her lips slightly moves. It's only for a few seconds, but it feels longer in Percival's head.

“Is it really that bad?” She whispers, peaking towards his father. He nod and they laugh again, this time silently.

“I'm sorry to hear that.” And when the last word slips out of her mouth, silence falls and they are quiet until the food arrives. The waiter talks about the wine – it is apparently a very fine wine and it will go smoothly to whatever they ordered. He does barely listen, he's lost in her. Then he thinks about Zia, and how many men have been lost in her. Will it be like that when Cherry gets older? Will boys call her an angel and stare at her on the street? He shivers by the thought of icky boys drooling over her.

“What?” She says, and he realizes he had been staring at her this entire time he was lost in thoughts.

“Nothing, nothing. I was just lost for a while.” And he tries to remember how to smile.

“So what are you doing at the moment?” He asks after a few seconds. He failed to smile so he tries to save it by talking. Maybe she'll forget the weird look he had on his face when he tried. She looks embarrassed.

“Not much. I'm taking some time off. I wish I had the guts to just... go out and do stuff, but I'm slacking the day away. I guess I need it.” She's embarrassed because I have a job and she doesn't, he thinks for himself. She looks down. If only she could look him in the eyes and see how it really doesn't matter to him.

“I wish I could take some time off.” He confesses in a low voice, so his father wouldn't hear it. Percival is scared of his reaction if he heard.

“Why? We should get on with our lives, not just be stuck where we are. The big decisions are to be taken now. I feel so guilty... I don't contribute to society.”

“Because if I had the time to think about what I wanted to do, then I'd probably end up choosing the right thing, and not just choosing something because I had to. You're right, the big decisions are to be taken now, but who said that, anyway? I say it's my life, and I should be able to decide whenever I'm ready. Unfortunately, that's not how it works. I have to contribute to society because my dad says so, and as long as I live under his roof, I do as he says. I could have ended up with a much worse job, so in a way, I'm glad I'm stuck there for a while. But believe me, whenever I can escape, I will.” His voice cracks from whispering. His throat feels a bit weird. Cherry seems to relax more and she nods slowly.

“That sounds about right.” She says and add: “I shouldn’t feel guilty. Thanks.” She flashes yet another wonderful smile and he dazes off into a world where he and Cherry are running in the fields towards each other, only to collide in a warm embrace.

They eat in silence and only partly listens to their parents talk. It seems so mundane and boring. Cherry seems absorbed in eating her food. He wonders how she can stay so thin.

When they are all done, they both look at each other for a long, long time, before Cherry mutters “do you want to take a walk while they finish their special wine?” His smile is wider than it have been for a long time, and they leave the table.

All the candles on the way out flicker a bit when they walk by.

Cherry - part 24

Cherry

Bubbles

Cherry doesn't work. Not now, at least. She's taking a year off, trying to relax. Maybe she'll know, someday, what she wants to do for the rest of her life. For now, she can only wonder. With so many possibilities, so many choices to make when one are so young, it can be quite overwhelming. Her parents have stuff to do. Her dad is working and her mother is probably planning the next ball. She thinks about Percival. Fine, neat Percival. The Percival she spend an evening with. Would she even recognize him outside the bubble they built together? But a bubble bursts and does it when you expect it least. She takes a bite of her banana and presses the button on the buzzer.

“James, could you please bring me a bowl of strawberries?”

“Yes, Ma'am.” And with that, the subtle buzzing sound disappears. Not too long after, James appears in the doorway with a bowl of strawberries. She thanks him.

Her mind wonders off as one strawberry fills her mouth after another. The sweet scent has filled the room and the taste seems to be in every corner of her mouth.

Her phone calls and she picks it up.

“Yes?” She asks, as the number calling was private.

“Honey? It's dad.” Her father’s deep voice sound through the speaker.
“Oh, hi dad. What's up?” Her father is usually busy around noon, so she wonders why he's calling now.

“I was just on the phone with your mom. I was telling her about a dinner tonight with Mr. and Mrs. Cryx. Mr. Cryx called earlier and he mentioned we have a business meeting tonight. Well, he mentioned how you met his son, Percival, when you delivered the message a few days ago. So he suggested bringing our wives and you and Percival could join us as well. That is, if you don't have any plans. Percival was free tonight, so it only depends on you, sweetheart.”

“That sounds nice. I would love to join you. When and where do we meet? I'll buzz Richard right away.”

“It's at Paul's, at 7.30. Give Richard my best.”

“I'll be there. Bye, dad.”

“Bye honey.”

And Cherry starts dancing her in room. Percival had agreed to go, that was a good sign, right? She pressed the button to the garage, and Richard answered.
“Richard, I have to be at Paul's around 7.20 tonight. I'll like the car to get a wash and wax before we go anywhere.”

“Yes miss. But what if you have to go anywhere later?”

“Oh, don't worry, Richard. I'll get myself to where I need to be.”

“Alright, miss. I'll be home in due time.”

“Thank you, Richard.” and then the buzzing stopped. She took a look at her wardrobe and instantly felt exactly like what she was: a teenager. For once, something important. What the hell am I going to wear?

Cherry - part 23

Cathy

Ruins

Cathy had never had a boyfriend, which to her was very obvious why. No one wanted to date a whore. And with all the rumors flying around, she could understand why she repelled boys. She wanted to yell 'I'm sorry I had to make a living!' They wouldn't think the same if it was someone who had worked at a fast food stand for many years. That's a crappy job as well, right? She thinks about how lonely she feels sometimes, and now, when she can see Cherry and her strong feelings for Percival, she feels like she can never have those feelings for anyone, ever. She have been ruined, she feels like her body was a workstation, an unfamiliar place with no relations to the private life, a dead thing like a building. Standing in a shop you put on a smiley face and fake your happiness through an entire day, and that's the same she had done for years. She has no life in her body, she literally bring home her work every place she goes. She had never been in love, or has she? How does love even feel? When was the last time she cried? And she doesn't remember. When was the last time she had strong feelings towards anything, really? When was the last time she took off her mask? And she doesn't remember that, either. She's so unhappy, but something in her says that she shouldn't be. It's going to turn around, that's what they all used to say. Everything's going to be okay. Your luck should turn as well. It's just a matter of time. Those phrases had been repeated for her many times. When was it going to be true? When was luck going to turn for her? She figures it already has. She met Cherry and she offered her help. She would help Cathy, so she could help herself. She didn't realize it before. Maybe Cherry was her guardian angel. She looks at her body. No one can erase the past. No one can undo what has been done, and no one can make it better. I live in a ruin, with scars and wounds which will never mend. She can cover it with new skin and she can cover her body with clothes, but no matter how much clothes she puts on, her body will be there underneath, and no one can make the pain from walking in the ruins go away.

Just move on, she think, because that would be what most people would say right about now. But who can truly move on if you have to carry the tombstone of your old self with you all the time? Who can really find bricks to build a new future, if the past took all the crafting resources?

How can you stop the rain from falling down? It falls and falls and overflows the ruins, but the rain never finds the strength or mercy to take the ruins away and into the great, big ocean of the past.

For my fairy, Sabrina <3

Hello, readers.
I love my story "Cherry", which I am sharing with you. Yes, entire internet, I am talking to you! I give you my small contribution to an ocean of other bloggers with much better stories to tell. Yet I hope you come across my story, since there's so much more beneath the surface. However, this post is not about me, but about a very special someone who made this whole thing possible. A girl so gorgeous on the inside and outside (her spleen is the prettiest thing I have ever seen), that sometimes I wonder why people aren't more like her. The world would be a much better place! Since I don't have a book in which I can write some credits to my boyfriend and family who've supported me as well, I'll do my credits here, on the blog. It may be boring for most of you, but it matters a great deal to me, since she deserves a proper thank-you, one for the entire internet to see.
This is a thank-you to the girl who always keeps my flame for writing up.
The girl who made "Cherry" possible.

Yes, Sabrina, I'm talking to you.

I don't really know when we met. I just know that ever since, I am grateful for my boyfriend to have introduced us. I didn't like you at first, I remember. You were too forward for my taste at the time. Thankfully I changed. We've talked about so many things. Serious business as relationsships, love and hatred, family and friends, how time has changed us both (for the better, I reckon), and education and future.
We've been around all the random subjects there is for the time being, and I know there'll be more to come. You are truly a random person, and that is just one of the many things I love about you. I can give you a list, but it won't be complete. The internet doesn't have enough space for that, I think. But you know this. I make a big deal out of telling you. It would kill me if you didn't knew.
You never judge.
You're always able to put a smile on my face.
You're always there to listen.
You share things with me, from everyday events to the big changes.
You like me for whom I am.
I never feel the need to hide around you.
You're silly and random and funny.
You tell me things straight. Doesn't sugarcover it - unless I really need it - and your patience knows no boundaries to my endless rants when something is wrong.

I haven't even known you for that long, but somewhere in between and probably during all our conversations and mere sharing, I realized that you are the kind of friend that I am lucky to have, and the kind of friend I don't ever want to lose.
I wish I could thank you for all of this; being my friend, listening to me, inspiring me in many ways and just being wonderful, but I think I lack words.
"Thank you" is simply not enough.
Though it's all I've got, at the moment, so I hope you'll accept it as the tacky line it is, and read all the things between the lines.
I am of the belief that a person should get the credit they're entitled for. Otherwise it does no good.
Thank you, for supporting me. And I cannot thank you enough for making me not give up on "Cherry". It really and truly is you who kept me going and letting me discover a talent I did not believe I had. I owe this story to you, and that is also why I'm writing this credit to you. Yes, other people have supported me, but none in the extent of what you have done.
For that, I am ever grateful.

To you, the story, and our wonderful, magical friendship! Cheers, love!

With Love
Your Princess