If It Fits, Wear It
In a time and place that hasn’t been overly specified, there was a girl. The likelihood is that there were, in fact, lots of girls in this non-specific time and place but this particular tale is about one of them. This girl had a name but she wasn’t that keen on it really so she preferred to be called Coco. Sadly, her life was not that brilliant so no one called her that. In her mind, though, she was Coco so it seems rude to call her anything else.
Coco lived with her father and her father’s wife. Coco was not a fan of her father’s wife so any combination of words which involved the word “mother” were never likely to cross her mind. Coco just thought of her as FW; sometimes that stood for Father’s Wife and other times it stood for something altogether less complimentary. They lived together in a place that her father and actual biological mother had owned but, since the arrival of FW, had become increasingly unfamiliar. A weird, slow metamorphosis had taken place and Coco had increasingly begun to feel that it was no longer the place that she had loved with her father but FW’s place that she and her father were now living in.
It didn't help that the main items of baggage now cluttering up the place were FW’s two daughters. Coco was not particularly fond of them and had pretty much instantly assigned the pair of them in her mind as Thing 1 and Thing 2. They weren’t exactly hostile towards Coco but they had a way of excluding her which made it seem as if it was something she had done. Coco had never heard of the terms “passive aggression” or “gaslighting” but she was nevertheless pretty familiar with them both.
The neighbourhood that they (and the other families like them) lived in was owned by a wealthy man. He was strict but not unpleasant. For example, every summer, he held a beach party for all the neighbourhood. It wasn’t a real beach party as they were nowhere near the sea but he put down a lot of sand and laid on a barbecue so it felt suitably beach-like.
Every year, the whole neighbourhood would go to the beach party and much fun was had by all. This year, there was an extra level of interest as the landlord’s nephew was coming to visit and no one had seen him before so it was particularly exciting. Especially as he was rumoured to be especially handsome and the landlord was said to be looking to marry him off (having no sons of his own, the landlord treated his nephew as the heir apparent and, one day, all of this would be his).
That is to say that it would have been extra exciting for Coco were it not for the fact that, this year, she was not to be going. It had been an accident but, of course, that was not how FW saw it. Coco had just been curious but then she slipped and it had broken and FW had exploded and now she wasn’t allowed to go to the party. Pfft, like FW could tell her what to do. She’d wait til they’d all gone out and then sneak out after them. It was optional fancy dress so she could legitimately cover up her face and no one would know.
Being an artistic sort, it didn’t take Coco long to fashion a mask from some random household objects and, combined with some relaxing beach wear and her comfortable pair of heavily customised flip flops, she was armed for the party. She played up the petulant act and gave her father, FW and Things 1 and 2 plenty of time to get themselves established at the party before sneaking her way (as much as anyone can sneak in an ostentatious mask and distinctive beach wear) out of the house after them.
As Coco arrived at the party, she could see her father and FW talking to the landlord so made sure to give them a wide berth. So intent was she on giving them a wide berth that she did not notice the figure in front of her until she had barrelled straight into them, landing on her behind with a teeth-rattling bump.
“Oh my word, I’m so sorry,” said the figure, “I wasn’t paying attention.”
Coco took the offered outstretched hand to get her back on her feet, muttering apologies herself, and took a good look at the person she had inadvertently assailed. He (for it was a he) was similarly masked (although Coco had to admit that it wasn't as good as hers) and solidly built. He offered to get her something to drink and Coco, conscious that if she was in company she was less likely to be spotted by those she was avoiding, accepted the offer.
As they walked, they fell into easy conversation. He was new here (he was visiting his rich uncle for the holidays), didn’t really know anyone and wasn’t really enjoying himself. Coco admitted that she normally enjoyed the party but, as she was being forced to skulk around, it was somewhat more stressful than usual. They talked and drank and drank and talked and, without really realising it, had passed some hours enjoyably in each other's company.
In all likelihood, it would have continued for longer had Coco not spotted the dreaded figure of FW seemingly making a beeline towards her. Coco panicked and leapt up, bemusing her companion and leaving him with only a single flip flop as a reminder of the evening as she dashed off towards home. She made it home and into bed with sufficient time before the suspicious FW who knew that she’d spotted her rebellious step daughter but was unable to prove it.
Unable to prove it, that is, until the following morning when a young man knocked at the door holding a single flip flop and asking if it belonged to anyone inside. Triumphantly, FW dragged Coco to the door (embarrassed at being put on display in her nightwear) but, before she could crow about it, the young man had barged past her to offer Coco the discarded footwear. Coco thanked him sheepishly and stood awkwardly in the hall while the young man started to babble about things like karma and fate and kismet and the like. Coco was pretty sure that at one point that he said something relatively pretentious like, “I didn’t believe in pre-determinism, I guess I was wrong,” but she let that slip. Unable to get a word in edgeways, FW threw up her hands in exasperation (she was given over to the occasionally theatrical gesture) and left them to it.
They dated a couple of times until he had to go back home. They wrote to each other for a little while but lost touch once Coco started dating a guitarist. Happily ever afters take a lot of work...
The Prompt
Here is what I had to work with courtesy of Chris:-
Story title - If It Fits, Wear It
Character name - Coco
Object - A single flip flop
Line of dialogue - “I didn’t believe in pre-determinism, I guess I was wrong.”
No comments:
Post a Comment