Category: writing

Rough Prompt Fiction by Lauryn Lambert.

Genre: YA Contemporary Romance

Story: When you make a connection with a girl at a party, but wake up to find that she didn’t write her number on your arm as you’d hoped. All you have left of her memory is a meaningless diagram drawn on your skin in permanent marker. Did she ghost you or does the drawing mean something more?

Themes: Love at first sight. Cinderella.

Words: 1362 ish

Permanent Marker

I wake with a smile on my face. What a night!

Music, a bonfire, dancing, sparklers, my cheeks still hurt from laughing!

And of course, her.

I turn my head and wipe the wetness off my cheek. Eck, drooling all over my pillow!
I flail and squint at the curtains, trying to get some sort of clue about what time it is.
It’s not my usual style on a Saturday night, but I was glad I had gone. My heart is still pounding at the thought. It was so worth this fuzzy head from lack of sleep.

I sit up slowly, thankful that all I feel is very thirsty and a little hungry. I was sensible with my choices, soft drink only, but the come down from sugar was not the nicest feeling even if I wasn’t nursing a hangover.
I grab some shorts off the floor, sleepily struggle into them and stumble out of my room.

“Good afternoon.”

I look at the clock, is it really afternoon? 11:30 was close enough. I shrug at my Mum and head to the kitchen to make some toast.

“Morning sunshine.” my mum kisses me on the cheek and pats my back.

I mumble “Hi.” I’m not very talkative in the morning. She doesn’t let me go just yet. “What’s that on your arm? Are you alright?”

I look down, but I can’t see anything. My mum twists it back up and I can see a drawing on the outside of my forearm. I shrug, suddenly remembering Crystal and now the whole night is coloured with a pang of sadness, “one of my friends drew on me.”

She raises her eyebrows, “First I thought it was a bruise, now it looks more like a map.” She twists it painfully and I jerk it out of her grip. 

“Food.” I point to the kitchen. I don’t want to get into this on an empty stomach. She can look at the drawing later.

Soon I have a pile of 6 pieces of toast on my plate, and I can’t avoid the marks on my arm any longer. My gut twists and suddenly I’m not hungry. She’s left a scribble.

The reason I had woken up so happy was that last night I had met this girl. My heart races at the thought of her. Long dark hair, brown skin and dark eyes that flashed with curiosity. We had talked for hours, and I could have been there all night. It had really felt like she was flirting, and I was flirting and so when it was time to leave of course I asked for her number. It seemed like a good sign when in response she asked for a permanent marker!

She scrawled on my arm, but I hadn’t bothered to check, because I didn’t want to seem desperate. Maybe that meant I had failed the test because I didn’t seem keen enough. My stomach churned. Now I felt like a fool.

I twisted my arm back the other way. No matter what angle I looked at it, none of what she had drawn looked anything like a phone number. It was time to face the facts. Mum was right, it looked like a doodle. Maybe a map, but that was stretching it. There was a big X near my elbow. if that wasn’t clear enough, I don’t know what was. She didn’t want to give me her number. I wish she had said, but I guess that is a bit hard to do after six hours of talking.

I slowly finish my toast and decide to go back to bed. None of my friends would be awake yet, and I’m pretty sure none of them knew who she was apart from “Crystal”, so I figured it best to go and nurse my wounds in private. I get up from the table as Mum comes back in.

“Give me another look. Is this one of those pranks from Josh? Did he steal your hat again?”

I put out my arm with a sigh. Not a prank, I think. She stole my heart. Which I didn’t even know was possible in six hours. Looks like I was wrong. I felt so lame.

“No, I think it was just someone’s way of not wanting to see me again.” I mumble and I’m not sure she hears me, but it feels better, to tell the truth rather than lie and say “nothing”.

“See there’s an x, and a tree, and the creek near Davie’s house. That was where the party was right?”

My mum thinks she’s young, and has this fantasy about how fun and exciting and filled with daring my life is, but the truth is, my life is awkward, and normal, just like hers.
I look back at my arm, looking down at it. Maybe it could be a map? That black splodge could be Davie’s house, and that could be the creek. Then there’s the skate park, a tree and an x.

My mum quirks her eyebrow, “If you don’t check it out, maybe I will, and I’m going to keep the treasure.”
I roll my eyes. “You just want me out of the house.”
“Go shower, then get out in the fresh air. You always feel better when you are outdoors. Take your bike too. If it turns into a dead end you can just hang out at the skate park.”

I shrug because it isn’t a bad idea. Moving on is better than moping. It still stings a bit though, this strangeness that is happening in my chest when I think of her, but I need to move forward. First, a shower.

As I ride my bike towards Davie’s house, and then the park, I wonder how I could make it easier for someone to decline my offer to keep in touch. Maybe I could give girls my number and then just let them decide?
If they don’t message me, I could always soothe myself, pretending they had somehow lost it. Is lying to myself even ethical?

I am distracted by the feel of the heat off the bitumen, but thankfully the breeze is cool. It is a bit hard to ride while looking at my outer forearm, so I ride around the park for a bit trying to figure it out before stopping at the biggest tree and checking the arm map again.

I dump my bike in the thick roots of the tree. There is nothing else here except leaf litter, a girl’s lost Converse, judging by the size, and a Sharpie. It seems like it should be a sign, but I know it’s not, people draw on this tree all the time. There’s barely any bark-coloured space left between all the “I heart every superstar forever”.

I unbuckle my helmet and lean against the tree. It was time to let go. One part of me had been hoping that there would be something here, a number or a note. I was no prince charming, there was no way I could tell if this shoe was hers, and trying to find a girl through her shoe was too weird, even for me. Unless it had her phone number on the sole?

I pick it up hopefully, but throw it down in disappointment.

“Is my shoe down there by any chance?” A voice calls from the tree and I jump!

“What?” I peer up to see Crystal, perched two branches above me, swinging her legs, one foot missing a shoe.

Relief floods me. I try not to grin, but I don’t succeed. I pick up the shoe again, “It’s here.”
“Oh good.” We pause and just look at each other, smiling. So she was into me!
“Hi.”
“I was starting to get worried that you wouldn’t be able to work it out.”
I laugh. “You probably gave me too much credit. I thought you were ghosting me.”
She shrugs, “Yet here we are.”
My heart rate accelerates.
“So can I come up?”
She rolls her eyes at me, “That’s the idea Jonathan, but only if you bring the pen and the shoe.”
I scoop them up in my left hand and start climbing.
I was not about to let her get away twice.

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