The Converse-wearing Fiend

fiend n a person that causes mischief or annoyance.

Two weeks ago, you started a food fight -unintentionally, you said. You were bored and your spaghetti was prime flinging quality- and unfortunately, you got found out. You were still serving out Saturday detention for that. It didn’t discourage you though. Yesterday you released all the frogs from their glass prison in the biology lab. They hadn’t figured out that it was you, yet. And I hoped it stayed that way- for your sake at least.

You never did know how to stay out of trouble.

So it was only expected that I was worried. I hadn’t seen you since lunch and that was four hours ago. And you were usually so easy to spot in a crowd, between classes. So when you disappeared, it could only mean one thing.

Then I heard them talking as they walked by briskly. They were muttering in furious undertones about the fire sprinklers being triggered in the second floor boys’ bathroom. I groaned into my open locker even as a smile tugged at my lips. I rolled my eyes, for my benefit alone and switched out my books. I knew you’d be at the usual place and I strolled out of school, as if it was just the end of another normal school day.

Autumn has only just started but the air was already chilly and even with a jacket on, I still shivered. It was a Friday and those who had nothing keeping them back had already left. That worked in favour for you- us.

I made myself comfortable on the somewhat misplaced iron park bench, next to the groundskeeper’s prized mulberry bushes and pulled out a book to pass the time until you turned up.

I heard rustling and I knew it wasn’t the wind. I couldn’t stop the small, almost secret, smile that broke out and I tucked my book back into my bag. Turning around slightly, I caught a glimpse of your shoes- your trademark bright orange converses, flashes of colour confirming that it was in fact you. Of course you would not realise how conspicuous those damned shoes made you. But then again, you didn’t really care.

You popped out from behind the mulberry bushes, a Cheshire cat grin, stretched out across your face. It was so damned intoxicating I found my own smile widening even though what I really wanted to do was chuck something hard at you.

You were jacketless and soaked to the bone, your hair curling slightly at the ends. There was dirt smeared across you left cheek and leaves stuck in your hair. You were a mess but you never looked more perfect.

Hello dearest, you said. I rolled my eyes and regarded you with the little annoyance I could muster. Then you had to break my resolve by unfurling your clenched fist and displaying two tiny mulberries resting on your palm. I popped one into my mouth. It was sweet. You mimicked my actions.

A light wind blew and you shivered slightly. I took you hand one at a time and rubbed them between mine in a feeble attempt to warm you up. Maybe it would have worked better if my hands hadn’t been so cold as well. You smiled down at me, twined your fingers through mine and led me to my car.

A tingle shot up through my arm. I loved it when you laced your fingers through mine like that.

Logically, the less I knew about your stunts, the better. But I could never help myself. Besides, who else would humour you? Nobody else would understand you never planned for half these things to happen. So, I asked. You smiled sheepishly at me and I asked myself, did I really want to know?

A dare. Of all the things…it had been a stupid dare, conceived by three very bored eighteen year-olds with the cumulative maturity of an eight year-old and a spare fifty, each, to waste. The bathroom needed a good washing anyway and you were up a hundred bucks, you’d added indignantly when I scoffed at your immaturity. Yeah right. And so for a hundred dollars, you held a lighter to the fire sprinklers then spent the last twenty minutes of school hiding out under the bleachers until the final bell rang and you could safely meet me by the mulberry bushes.

One day, they were going to put two and two together. I just hoped it would be after this year and we’d graduated and gone far, far away. I was hopeless at lying to authority figures and there was no doubt I’d be the first one they’d pick out to question if it ever came down to it.

We arrived at your house and I pulled into the driveway. I couldn’t stay. You leaned over and kissed me. It was a quick peck on the lips but then you deepened it, your tongue tracing my bottom lip. I parted my lips and I felt you smile as your tongue slipped inside. You tasted the faintest bit like mulberries. The kiss was sweet but demanding and butterflies flooded my stomach, almost out of nowhere. It reminded me of our first kiss.

It was a year ago. We were sitting on the couch at mine and fighting over the television control. You wanted to watch re-runs of Macgyver and I wanted to watch The Smurfs. We were both unyielding and then, you just kissed me. Chastely at first then deepening as you grew more confident. We both ended up forgetting about the remote…or watching television, for that matter.

You pulled away slowly, and grinned (a little smugly) at my rapid blinking as I tried to bring my vision back into focus. Now, what was that for? But I couldn’t say that I was at all displeased.

You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, you told me softly, more serious than I had seen you in a while. I grinned cheekily. Of course I was. You called me a minx and kissed me on the nose. Then very reluctantly, opened the car door and got out, promising to try and stay out of trouble for a while. I wouldn’t hold you to it though. It was like your mum always said: trouble would somehow find you.

I watched you drag your feet across the lawn and disappear into the house, but not before one last quick wave. I missed you and you bright orange shoes already. I loved that you always made me feel special. And even from way before, you always had this knack for making my insides melt and I would forget whatever it was I was annoyed at you for.

I was aware I was smiling stupidly at what seemed like nothing and I sighed. Yeah, you were the best thing to happen to me too.

My converse-wearing fiend.

AN: Okay, so I have revised it. I’ve been itching to do so for a while. I hope it reads better (or just as well) than it did originally. Or let me know if I’ve just ended up wrecking it. Ta! (:

Originally written on: 08.08.07

Revised on: 07.09.08