Yes or No | Teen Ink

Yes or No

February 1, 2011
By writerinfinity PLATINUM, Arlington, Texas
writerinfinity PLATINUM, Arlington, Texas
35 articles 0 photos 105 comments

We sat side by side in lawn chairs, staring out at the sparkling pool, in the cool night air. “So, have you thought about what I said?” You asked, intertwining your hands in mine.
“Yeah, a little,” I say lamely, shrugging my shoulders.
“A little?” You ask teasingly. I pretend slap you on the chest, and let my arm fall back onto the arm rest. “Look,” you say seriously looking me in the eye. “I need to know, yes, no, maybe so.” You rub your hand up and down my arm, and I twist away.
“Can you stop pressuring me, give me time?” I snap at you, staring back at the milky skye.
“How can I not?” You ask with a tad of anger.
“I don’t know. You.... you just can.” I say, twisting away from you as you make another attempt to rub my arm.
We fall silent, and I shudder from the cold. You take off your jacket and drape it around my shoulders. And I accept it resentfully, but I need it’s warmth.
You keep looking at me, hoping to get me to tell you an answer, but I can’t, because I don’t have one. I contemplate the question just like I’ve been for the past week since you asked me. I try to forget about it, but seeing you everyday, and hearing your carmely voice makes it near impossible.
I glance over at you, and you give me a weak smile. Your soft, deep, brown eyes look into mine, and I try hard to rip my gaze away. But it’s impossible.
Your eyes draw me in, closer, closer, nose to nose. Your soft lips touch mine, and my eyes close. When we recede, you give me a smile.
“So, about that answer.” You say. I can’t believe you. I rip your jacket off me and stand up. It’s your jacket that your parents paid 400 dollars for because they specially ordered it. I throw the dumb, over expensive jacket on the ground in the mud. I stomp it in with my foot. You jump up and wince, then stride quickly to your jacket.
I run away, my feet pounding the pavement. I glanced over my shoulder; you were holding your jacket, looking torn between running to your house to clean your jacket, and running after me.
Then, you make the wrong move. You run towards your house, clutching your jacket in your arms.
I’m so glad I didn’t say yes to the question you asked me. So glad I didn’t marry you.

The author's comments:
I like to write things that make people think, keep them on the edge wondering. That's exactly what I did with this piece, and it's exactly what I'll do with the next one.

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