|It Felt Like Flying
Author: Rosecrystals PM
"Flying had been real. But what I had forgotten about flying was that you could never fly forever. Eventually you had to fall. For the first time in my life falling was real. Real wasn't beautiful. Real was not perfect. Real was not happiness. And everything I didn't want to be real was real." A Speak story written in Melinda's POV. Eventual Melinda/Dave Petrakis.Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Angst - Melinda S. & David P. - Chapters: 8 - Words: 6,559 - Reviews: 13 - Favs: 7 - Follows: 7 - Updated: 04-18-13 - Published: 06-11-12 - id: 8209205
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: Hey, sorry about not updating. I've been really busy recently. Thanks to spiderwoma69, JoanJett77, and MariaDeNoir for reviewing. The chapter's short, but I promise another update during the week. I won't abandon this story. I promise.
Call me a jerk, but as I watch Dave's friends play videogames I can't help but be bored.
I was never a videogame girl. I liked life's simple pleasures. The wind on my face. A day out in the sun.
He glances over at me and I think he realizes I'm bored out of my mind.
"Not your cup of tea?"
"No, sorry. I know it's like a religious ritual for you nerdy people. It just doesn't do it for me."
He laughs. "Well, you'll be happy to know that I'm not as fanatical about it as they are."
I smile at him.
"Hey, listen. I have some stuff I wanna show you. You know, get a second opinion."
"You're gonna laugh at me. I've been learning how to play the guitar for like a year. Not that good at it, but I was hoping you could maybe tell me if I'm on the right track."
"No problem. What kind of music do you play?"
"Oh, you know. Indie rock."
"I know, it's cliché."
"No. No. It's just that every teenage guy and their neighbor has a rock- n- roll band."
"Which makes it cliché."
"Don't pay me any mind. I'll listen to your songs."
"Alright. My guitar's in my room."
My face blanches, the blood running out of it. I can remember Andy Evan's seemingly nice smile as he kissed me in his car. How he called me pretty.
The speaker system on Dave's TV is loud and I wonder if his friend's videogame is some sort of ploy. If the guitar in his bedroom is a trap to get in my pants.
His face darkens, a frown seeping into his features.
"Hey, you okay?"
I try my best to smile, but it comes out awkward and forced. The kind of smile when your lips curl upwards, but your eyes are empty.
"Yeah. Just have a little stomach-ache. That's all."
"Look, Melinda. I know you're scared after what happened to you. But you need to get out and experience life. You shouldn't let the past hold you back."
My voice is soft when it leaves my lips. "You don't know what it's like."
"No, I don't. But what I do know is that you're not gonna feel any better about people if you don't have the courage to go out and meet some nice ones. You can trust me."
"It's really hard not to be paranoid. I'm sorry. Don't take it personally."
He looks at me quietly, his runs a hand through his dark hair in slight frustration.
"This day is not going as I planned. I wanted you to have some fun."
I smile weakly. "I will. Let's go and listen to some of your music. I bet you probably have some DEMOs and EPs you want me to listen to."
His eyes light up. "Tons."
I don't know that I can ever trust anyone ever again. But what I do know is that some music, good or absolutely awful, will take my mind off the pathetic state my life is in at the current moment. I follow him to his room and take a calming breath.
Today, I'm going to get to know a new person. I hope he does prove me wrong about my fears. I've been waiting for someone to.