One Shots

[shmancy_glace]

I wanted to dedicate this thread to my friend who I met on the forums. She is an amazing writer, one of my favorite people to go to whenever I want to read awesome short stories. She stopped writing for a while, but I wanted to share some one-shot stories she posted while she was active. I will post more depending on the feedbacks. (The first story is actually by a different author, but has similar writing style as my friend.)

STORIES:
Eeny Meeny Miny Moe
Chubby Finger
Because You Didn't Ask


Eeny Meeny Miny Moe
by AD



When it was my turn, I squinted between the two choices in front of me. I was in line for food at my school cafeteria and I couldn’t decide whether to pick the sugar cookie or the chocolate chip one. What was I going to do? I bit my lip. Finally, I used my last resort, the one tactic that had always helped me make the right decision. It was also the one that had always gotten me a few jokes. People always teased me: “You’re already eight! You still do that?”

Eeny meeny miny moe, I said silently in my head, mentally switching between the two cookies. Catch a tiger by the toe. If he hollers let him go. Eeny meeny –

“Hurry up, you stupid buttface,” came a sharp hiss from my right.

I jumped in surprise, losing my place in my chant. I glared at the offending person. “What?”

The equally short boy clucked his tongue at me. “You’re holding up the line! Hurry up! I want my cookie too!”

“Can’t you wait?”

“No. I don’t like waiting for girls who look like Barbie dolls.”

“I’m not a Barbie doll.”

“You look like one. An ugly one.”

That hit a sore spot. My bottom lip quivered for a moment before I turned around, snatched the first cookie that came in contact with my hand, and fled to my table without a backward glance.

+--------------------+


That incident seemed to be the catalyst in which this kid always stalked me wherever I went. And most of the time, he was either getting me into trouble or trying to get me in trouble. Of all the nerve! Why me, of all people? I glanced at the blunt tip of my pencil and then up at the pencil sharpener, all the way at the front of the room and seeming ever so far away. I snuck a glance at him, pleased to see that for once, his face wasn’t turned up into a smirk. Maybe I had a chance.

Should I go or shouldn’t I? Eeny meeny miny moe, catch a tiger by the toe, if he hollers, let him go. Eeny meeny miny moe. Out goes one, out goes two, out goes another one, and that is you. Okay, I was going to go. I needed this pencil or I wouldn’t be able to function in class.

As I continued to listen to my teacher, I finally realized that my teacher was grouping everyone randomly for a project. And then she dismissed us to begin our group projects. Whatever. Now was my chance.

As quickly as possible, I snuck up to the pencil sharpener, stuck the object in, and began sharpening at a fast rate, hoping I’d be able to finish and get back to be able to disappear in my group. But in my haste, I didn’t realize my pencil shillings weren’t quite reaching the wastebasket. Darn. I was usually so careful about this too!

“Miss Lynskey!” hollered a voice from what sounded like right next to me.

I cringed and peeked over, only to find that kid pointing an accusing finger at me! He was the one who’d yelled! The one who’d tattled on me!

“Kira,” my teacher scolded, “you know you’re supposed to make sure things that belong in the trash can go into the trash can. Clean it up, okay?”

“Okay,” I said meekly, swallowing hard. Miss Lynskey was my absolute favorite teacher and although she was always super nice, I always tried really hard to put myself on her good side. And this kid! What had he done? He’d screwed it all up!

Before I bent down to scoop up the mess, I glared at him and stuck out my tongue, ignoring that stupid smirk he had on his face.

+-----------------------+


“Miss Waltfield!” my teacher said suddenly, snapping me out of my reverie. I froze, realizing just then that I had been daydreaming and had most likely not heard my teacher when she asked me a question.

“Yes?”

Her eyes narrowed at me. Eighth grade teachers were not the nicest people on Earth, that was for sure. “Were you daydreaming?”

“N-no.”

She gave an unconvincing smirk. “Good. Then you won’t mind telling me what the answer is, will you.”

It wasn’t exactly a question; it was more of a statement.

What was I going to do? My usual lifesaver, eeny meeny miny moe, wasn’t going to help here! There wasn’t anything to ‘eeny meeny’ anymore!

The scrape of a chair being pushed back was heard. “Excuse me, I know the answer.”

My face burned twice as hard as I recognized the voice.

“Yes, Mr. Waters?” Her voice had become much pleasanter now that her favorite student had spoken up.

“It was Pompeii. That was the town that was buried when Mount Vesuvius erupted.”

“Very good. You may be seated.”

As he sat down again behind me, I heard him whisper something that made my blood boil even more.

“Dimwit.”

+-----------------------+

[shmancy_glace]

“Can you believe it, Kira?” my friend was telling me one day on the first day of high school. “My mom is actually going to let me go to Homecoming! I’m so excited!”

“Yeah,” I murmured absentmindedly. We were walking down the somewhat crowded hallways and my eyes had just (unfortunately) spotted a familiar dark-haired kid leaning against the lockers, chatting with his friends.

He turned his head and spotted me just then. I just sniffed and turned my focus straight forward, determined not to even spare him a glance as I passed by him.

My foot caught on something and the next thing I knew, I was flying through the air for a moment before I landed painfully on my butt. I winced and felt the heat creeping up my cheeks as I heard the loud laughter coming from all directions.

“Nice one, Waters!” one boy cheered.

The name registered as a blip on my personal radar and I was torn between so many emotions. Yes, I was burning bright red because I had just been totally humiliated in front of half the entire school on my first day in high school, but I was also burning because I was so ready to take his face and smash it into the wall.

My friend helped me up and I could vaguely hear her questions about me. All I could focus on was the guy in front of me who had that insistent smirk on his face, the one that had followed me all through my school years.

“What’d you do that for?” I demanded angrily, even though I was close to tears.

“Do what?” he said simply, shrugging.

“You just tripped me!” I hollered, fully aware that half the entire school was still packed into that hallway, watching our conversation like it was a tennis match.

“I did not.”

“I tripped on your foot! The one you decided to stick out the moment I walked by!”

“No way! I was just stretching my foot,” he exclaimed. “You decided to walk by me right then. It’s your fault you tripped. You’re such a klutz.”

My first reaction to that was to reach over and punch his face but I found out I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. Not in front of everyone. Not after I had just been humiliated. Eeny meeny miny moe couldn’t work here either. It would take too long!

Instead, I turned on my heel and ran away, tears of humiliation and embarrassment flowing down my cheeks.

+----------------+


I sat quietly in my freshman English class. My teacher was currently discussing our yearlong project, something that would count as fifty percent of our grade. This was something serious. We were going to be assigned a partner and our project was to find out as much as we could about the other person’s and make a presentation board about it for the rest of the class. I was hoping to death I wouldn’t get him; after all, some unlucky fate had placed him in my class again.

“Okay, I’m going to start pairing everyone off.” And to my horror, she began pairing us off in alphabetical order! My brain quickly realized that he sat right behind me! There was no way I could be paired with him! My social life would end today if that happened!

My teacher stopped at my name and frowned. My heart skipped a beat, hoping there would be some mistake.

“Oh, dear,” she murmured. Inwardly, I screamed a ‘Yes!’ “There’s three of you left. Okay, well, we’ll settle this the old way. Kira, please do ‘eeny meeny miny moe’ between the two boys left. Out loud. And whoever you land on will be your partner for the year.”

No! No! No, no, no! She was using my lifesaver tactic to drown me! She couldn’t be doing this!

“Well, Kira? All right, we have a lot to cover and there’s no time to waste. I’ll do it for you. Eeny meeny miny moe…” she began, her finger switching between the two.

My breath caught in my throat as I heard the last bits of the song. My eyes widened at the person her finger finally pointed to.

I couldn’t hear anything. I couldn’t see much of anything. All I could see was the ever prominent smirk plastered on his face.

+------------------+


A woman of about twenty years old awoke with a start just then. She sat there for a few moments, trying to catch her breath. All the memories of her childhood with her tormentor had bundled up into one nightmare that had haunted her sleep tonight. Even though it was all in the past, the memories never failed to embarrass her all over again. Her stupid tormentor. Her unbelievably persistent stalker.

She cast a sideways glance at the figure sleeping in the next bed, his shock of familiar dark hair visible underneath the covers.

She stared at him for a moment, unsure whether to throw a pillow at him or not. Finally, she got out of bed and crept closer to his bed.

Then she kissed his forehead and whispered, “I can’t believe we’ve been dating for three years now.”

-----------------

[LilRobGrayson13]

so..awesome. :]

[Animeluver(5421)]

Wow!
That's so good!!!

More? Please? x3

[shmancy_glace]

so..awesome. :]

I know, right? x)
I wish I could write like that. Haha

Wow!
That's so good!!!

More? Please? x3

Yay! I'm so glad you like it! I knew we were twins!

__________________________________________________ ___________


Thank you KidaRobFan9579 and Sarah for responding!
Here's another one-shot story. <3 My personal favorite.
I actually drew a comic for this in class. :3
*Also Desideratum was her username. I'm keeping her name confidential.




Chubby Finger
By Desideratum


Every girl once wished that her life would be like a fairy tale. Like one of those online fanfics that they cried over at three in the morning while sitting in front of the computer with the lights turned off and a tissue paper in one hand or one of those dramas that they obsessed themselves with and result in puffy eyes every morning during the summer time. Every single girl desired a life in which is unforgettable and romantic and unique. And you know what?

I’m one of those girls.

Okay, so I sounded like I was going to say that I’m not one of those girls but I am. I prayed day and night to be one of those girls. Fortunately, God finally stopped ignoring my wish. The unfortunately was that he kind of tweaked it a little.


Typically, a girl meets her lover through an accident or something like that. You know, falling in the pool or pond or lake and then the dude dive in and save her and they fall in love. If not that then it’s the “arguing at first sight” kind of thing and then they end up falling in love anyway. Well for me, I can’t seem to explain which one mine was. It was more of a… he-doesn’t-notice-me-and-I-don’t-notice-him kind of thing, like… we didn’t even meet.

Let me explain.

Imagine a busy intersection, like one of those in Hong Kong, with the people crossing and everything. I was one of those rushing people, getting to work. My dude… or whatever you want to call him, was casually striding the opposite direction from where I was heading. He had a paper cup of coffee in his hand and dressed himself up with a suite, appearing all smart and handsome looking. I, on the other hand, wore my hair in a messy bun, pulled on some jeans and shirt that came in contact with my hand first this morning, and a pair of ten years old tennis shoes. I gripped a bagel and a bottle of water in my hands. Well, anyway, I was rushing and he was striding. And yeah, that was it. It was the very first time we “met” without even knowing. I know, a lot of people met that way but hey, they rarely meet again, three times on the same day.

So, when I arrived at my work place the manager bastard told me to go deliver something. I rolled my eyes at him and finished my bagel while snatching the manila envelope from him and ran off.

Looking at the address, I aimed towards my destination.

Hmm, powerful and famous corporation.

I pulled the door open with my filthy hands and roughly headed towards the elevator, while ignoring the disgusted stares.

The elevator was closing and I was almost there

“Wait!” I hoarsely shrieked. “Wait!”

The elevator door closed as I panted in front of it. My dude was standing inside, staring at me with cold eyes, and then click, the elevator doors shut closed.

I growled at him, even though he was gone, and pressed the up arrow. My right foot was tapping while I impatiently wait for the next elevator to be available.

“Some kind of big company. Takes forever for an elevator,” I scolded at no one in particular.

When the damn elevator finally arrived I darted inside and poked violently at the close button. I pressed for the seventh floor and waited.

I stepped out and examined my surroundings and saw a lady getting up from her chair and smiling at me over the counter.

“May I help you?” she politely inquired.

I smiled back at her and replied, “I need to deliver this to… this person.” I pointed at the English name that I didn’t know how to read. She looked at it and nodded her head.

“Very well, I’ll give it to him.” She reached for the package but I pulled back.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, “but my boss told me that I have to give this to him myself. Said something about honesty and business reputation and yeah.”

She laughed and then chuckled, “Sure. I’ll tell him and then you can go in.”

The lady picked up the phone and said something. Then she told me to go into his office, straight and three doors down on the left side.

I knocked on the door and a man’s voice answered, “Come in.”

I turned the door handle and poked my head in first. Sitting on the black leather office chair was the dude that shut the elevator door on me, or at least he didn’t press open for me.

I ignored that and stuck the envelope in front of him.

“Express delivery,” I stated coldly.

“Thank you.”

Silence.

“You can go now,” he looked up and reminded me, as if I knew that I was supposed to go.

I glared at him and sat down on the chair across from his desk.

“What’s wrong with you?” he said in an irritated tone, “I said that you can go.”

I slammed the desk and stood up, causing the chair to slide back with a squeaky noise.

“Sign the damn tag and give it back to me so I can give it back to my boss, damn it,” I cussed at him.

[shmancy_glace]

He looked at the envelope and saw a sticker tag on the front with a line for his signature. The bastard signed it and peeled it off and stuck it on a piece of white paper about the same size and handed it to me. I snatched the receipt and marched out of the room.

I hated rich people back then, especially those who think that they can kid around with people poorer than them. I had my own reason and it was also because I didn’t encounter any situation with rich people before.

So anyway, that was how we met. Hmm… a few months later he asked me out. Let me tell you, it was… very very unique.

“So?” he questioned.

“Hm, I like it but I don’t know.”

He raised an eyebrows and said, “It took me three months to be able to do that!”

Displayed in front of me was a handkerchief with the words “Will you go out with me?” on it in green, my favorite color.

“The letters are all crooked and they’re different sizes,” I complained.

“I don’t give a damn,” he angrily huffed.

Boy, he was mad because his fingers were all bandaged because of that piece of cloth.

Suddenly, he pulled me into an embrace and planted his lips on mine. My body temperature literally dropped down to zero degrees Celsius instead of rising up to 100 degrees. Everything was cold except for my cheeks. They were burning hot with the pepper red color darkening every nanosecond.

Then my legs went numb and I tumbled on top of him, causing him to fall on his back.

I pulled out from the kiss and breathed.

“I take that as a yes,” he smiled.


So, yeah. Then he proposed to me two years later. It was typical; he kneeled down and asked me to marry him.

“Yes,” I accepted in tears.

The untypical accident was that he forgot to buy the ring for some apparent reason. As if it was one of those scenes in dramas, there was a soda can near by. He took the can tab, separated the small hole from the big hole, and threw away the small part while smiling devilishly at me. I know, that was his temporarily ring.

He slowly slipped it on my ring finger.

“Uh…” he started.

Damn, my finger was too chubby.

“The pinky will work, too,” he mended.

He slipped it into my pinky and then kissed me on the lips.


So, typical proposal? Wait till the wedding.

My heart pounded against my chest as the church’s double doors open for me to enter. In front of me were two little flower girl around the age of seven. They threw the flowers in the air was I followed behind them with my right hand holding onto my father’s arm. Everybody stared at me as I approached closer to the groom.

When I finally made it there safely, the Father began saying the typical vow and we both happily answered, “I do.”

Then I slipped the ring for him.

Then he slipped on the ring for me.

Then he whispered, “Honey, I think you gained a few pounds.”

I looked down and saw that the ring wouldn’t go through.

“No, it’s just that my finger is too chubby for rings in any form, real or fake,” I joked. “Try the pinky.”

He laughed softly and slipped the ring into my pinky and we kissed.

After the wedding we had to go get the ring fix again so it would fit my finger. The instant it was fix my husband slipped it into my wedding ring and smiled.

“There. Now you don’t have to worry about the wedding ring not fitting your finger.”

He gave me a peck on the nose and we walked to the car with fingers laced around each other’s.



A couple of months later we had an argument.

“That’s it, this marriage is over!” I cried with tears streaming down my cheeks.

He was fired from his job and somehow engaged in a lot of debts. The problem was that the debts were owed to loan sharks, not some bank. They were already spraying profanity around our house and posting threats everywhere around the neighborhood.

I stood there in front of my husband and pulled the wedding ring off.

It wouldn’t even budge.

“Honey, I think you’ve gain a few pounds,” my husband still had the heart to joked.

“No! I told you that my finger is too chubby for any ring!” I screamed at him.

He smiled and embraced me.

“I think that your finger is only chubby for the ring of our marriage,” he whispered into my ear.

We stood there in the middle of the living room, with him resting his head on my shoulders and hugging tightly.

“I think that my finger is only chubby for the ring of our marriage,” I repeated his statement, “because God knows that we’ll go through arguments like these. And he knows that I’ll pull the ring out and get a divorce. And he also knows that you’re the only one for me. That’s why he made my finger to be too chubby so our marriage won’t be ruin by my impulsiveness.”

[Animeluver(5421)]

Wow......
These are seriously amazing!!!!!!

I wanna read more already! x]

Second one is awesome!!!

[Purplelover101]

Glace, i love your stories! i'm adding this to list of fanfics/stories i have to continue reading.

[WoRdLoVer]

Awwww the first story was so cute. I love it... One of the best stories I've ever heard.

[shmancy_glace]

@ Sarah: Hehe <3 I love the second one too!
@ purplelover: Aww yay! I was wondering when you'd visit.
@ Lili: Hahaha. Glad you enjoyed it.

Thanks for reading, guys! <3
Side note: The character limit per post is annoying. I have to keep posting one story multiple times and edit it. -__-



Because You Didn’t Ask
By Desideratum



Is it a tradition that guys are always the ones that make the first move? Is it required that guys have to be the one asking the girls out, instead of the other way around? Why can’t the girls ask the guys out for a change? It’s not like it’s something embarrassing to ask a guy that you like to go out with you. I mean, seriously. And you know what? I used to think the same exact thing, until he got married.

You’ve liked someone before, right? Let me guess, you wanted to ask him out but you didn’t have the courage to or because your mama says that he has to do the asking. Guys are seen as brave young men that are not scared of anything. Right?

Wrong.

Guys are as sensitive as we are. They feel the same way we feel when we have a crush on the opposite sex. They also wish for us to ask them out. Sometimes we really give them a hard time because we act like we don’t give a sh*t about them when in reality, we do. They cannot read our mind. Did you think that they can detect every thought that is in our mind?

No. They can’t.

That was how it was between me and him. I thought that he can just read my mind and ask me out, if he liked me that is. Unfortunately I acted so b**tchy towards him and provoked his hatred towards me. I only wanted him to notice me, really.

Anyway, let’s get started here.

Eight years ago I was seventeen. During that time my heart was flustering everyday, every moment, every minute, every second, and every time I saw his face. You know that kind of feeling when you have a crush on a guy.

Typically I would just jump off the school bus and speed walk to my locker very early in the morning. Every morning I get to school early and change into some gym clothes and jog around the gym before anybody actually show up at school, except for the principal, who comes to open the school for those early birds, like me. The principal usually opens the school and then hides in his office, doing whatever. He knows that I’m the only one in the building so he doesn’t worry because I don’t steal nor do anything bad, other then stuffing these jerks down the girls’ toilet bowl because they are jerky.

Anyway, I was changing in the restroom in the girls’ locker room until I heard foot steps traveling nearer and nearer to me. I stayed still, once I got my shirt and pants on.

Silence.

Realizing that the person is right in front of the stall I’m in, I quietly lowered the toilet cover and sat on it, lifting my legs off of the ground. The person started to whisper, with an itchy raspy voice of a sore throat.

“I know Ma. I’m working on it.”

It was a guy. A guy that I know.

What the freak is a guy doing a girls’ changing room?

“I know, I know. Give me some time for God’s sake!” he raised his voice. I was taken aback by his sudden breakout.

There was a long silent. It was quiet to the point where I could hear his heartbeat. I smiled to myself at the thought. One, because I'm alone with him, even though he doesn't know that. Two, because we are having a quiet moment like this that I thought could never come true, even though it's in the girls' changing room.

"You changed the date?" he asked in rage.

He tried to bury his anger deep inside him. I could feel it.

"Okay. So you want me to propose to her tonight?"

My heartbeat stopped.

He's going to propose to someone. Who?

"Yeah. I bought the ring," he continued. "Wish me luck."

Then I heard his phone flip closed. My mind, heart, and body froze. I felt as if I was stranded on the Arctic Circle. My mind was isolated.

His footsteps faded away as he exited the girls' locker room. I waited until there was no more noise. Then I gathered up all my clothes and stuffed them in my backpack.

The instant I swung the door ajar he was right in front of me. My mouth gaped open but not a single word escaped because it felt like a football was shoved down my throat.

"You heard?"

I nodded.

He sighed.

"What do you think about this?"

I shrugged. Who am I to be telling him about his proposal and soon to be fiance?