FirstLineFiction beta

from Contest #8

'I wouldn't do that if I were you,' she told me the first time we met.  She has been telling me what to do ever since that day.  ‘Ben, do this.’ ‘Ben, take the garbage out, and while you’re at it, do the dishes.’  For sixteen years I’ve put up with her crap, but today, April 17^th, 1993, marks the day that I, Benjamin Seth Stanton, say No.

       Let me tell you about myself.  As you know, my name is Benjamin Seth Stanton.  I live in Forest Hills, New York, in a 3 bedroom 2 bath house.  To most people this house is an average size house, but not in my situation.  My house consists of my parents, Richard and Susanne, my bossy 18 year-old sister, Cynthia, and my 2 younger siblings, Lily, 6, and Teddy, 4.  I am a Semi-religious Christian, which is why I consistently ask my parents why we moved to such a Jew populated area.  I don’t have an issue with it, I am friends with some Jews.  They teach me a lot about their history and their heritage, it is actually quite fascinating.  I attend Jefferson High, it is a great school, it offers a lot of extra curricular activities, none of which I am a part of.  You see, I am not really anything; Im not popular in the slightest, I am invisible to girls, and I can’t play a sport if my life depended on it.  Now you are probably waiting for me to say that I am one of those freak geniuses that people copy off of, but I’m not. I’m just Ben Stanton, a sixteen year old, who hasn’t been invited to one high school party in the year and a half I’ve been in high school.  Until Friday April 15^th 1993, when Tiffany Werner, the captain of the cheerleading squad, the hottest, most popular girl in 10^th grade at Jefferson High came up to me, and asked ME, if I wanted to go to a party with her on Saturday night.  I think my exact words were ‘Uh… did Christopher Columbus discover America?!’ She looked at me as if I were a tough math problem on the board, and said, ‘So… that a yes?’

‘Yes, what time should I pick you up?’

‘8.’

       She walked away.

 

 

       On my way home from school that day, everything seemed to be growing from a nothing to a something; caterpillar into a butterfly, child into a Bar Mitzvah, and, well, me.

       When I finally got home, my mom asked me to baby-sit on Saturday night.  I looked at her with my head held high and said, ‘Sorry mom, I got a party to go to.’  At first, my mom was chuckling, until she saw that I was completely serious.  She turned her head around, while her eyes were still on me and screamed, ‘Cynthia, you are going to have to baby-sit tomorrow night, Ben has a party to go to.’

       Cynthia barged into the kitchen furiously and confused, while trying to think of how it is unfair that I get to go out on Saturday night and not her. She most obviously could not think of a reason. To relieve her frustration she called me a lonely faggot and went back into her room.  I was fine with it, I’ve been called more hurtful names before. 

       Now after a lot of name-calling and other unnecessary screaming, both Cynthia and I fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning, I smelled the sweet breeze of popularity. Throughout the whole day, Cynthia was acting perfectly normal, she was in videochat with her friends discussing how ‘gay’ I am, while I was thinking what I should wear, say, and if I should be early, late or on time.  If I were to be on time, would she think I was waiting for this all day? If I were to be early, would she think I couldn’t wait? If I were to be late, would she think im not into her and leave? I have so much to think about.

       Seven O’clock, and I started to get ready.  At 7:03 my mom screamed out, ‘Ben, have fun tonight! Cynthia, make sure the kids don’t go to sleep to late. Bye guys.’ She left.  At 7:48 I walked into Cynthia’s room to ask her if I looked OK.  Her response, ‘Ben, baby-sit, while I go to the movies with my boyfriend. K, thanks. See ya.’

       And now here we are, April 17^th 1993, it is my time to say NO! I could do this, I really could.  Now that the time has come, do I have the balls to do this?  Will I be able to take the mental (or physical) torture that Cynthia will give me for this?  Well, here it goes.  ‘No Cynthia, I will not baby-sit for you, I have been taking your shit since the day I was born.  So stay here, baby sit, and just shut up already!’  Cynthia is looking at me like she wants to kill me, do I run, or should I wait for an answer? I’ll wait. 

       It is now 7:54, and Cynthia still hasn’t said anything.  ‘Stanton, I never thought you would have the balls to stand up for yourself, well get out of here, wait, do you want to bring a jacket, you might want one.’

‘No thanks.’

       Wow, she is being really nice, this has the potential to be an awesome night.  So, I’m waiting for ‘Tiff’, that’s what her friends call her, and here she is, her hair flowing in the wind, with her beautiful smile,  ‘Ben, are you ready for me to rock your world?’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘Lets do this.’

       2 hours later, I came out of the car lacking something I had went in with originally.

 

       Oh, sorry if you got your hopes up there, with a happy ending and all, that was just what I wanted to happen.  This is what really happened.

       I was standing in front of her house when I heard a girl say, ‘Yo faggot, up here!’ So I looked up, and Cynthia was there, ‘You should’ve worn a jacket!’ I guess Cynthia thought it would be funny to throw 80 water balloons at me.  Why didn’t I move you ask?  Well after 10 water balloons being thrown at you, you might as well let them finish what they started.

back to Contest #8