Would You Rather?

"Would you rather have no fingernails or no eyebrows?" Robin and Jenny lie next to each other on the bed.
"What's there instead, just skin?" Jenny asks.
"Just skin."
She muses for a couple of seconds, "I'll take no fingernails."
"Why?" Robin proprs himself up on his elbow.
"Because you could glue on fake nails and be normal again."
"Good point."
"What would you pick?" she asks. She rests on her elbow too and meets his gaze. This is obviously serious business.
"I'd also go for no fingernails because eyebrows are really important," Robin replies sagely.
"Are they?" Jenny sounds surprised. Anatomy isn't really her thing, obviously.
"Yeah, without them sweat and rain would get into your eyes. And you know what else?"
"What?" Smiling, she strokes his fringe out of his eyes.
"I wouldn't have to worry aobut scratching you, when I tickled you!" He pounces. She squeals and squirms. He abates and he stoops to kiss her. She winds her arms around his neck.
"You're mean." She pouts.
"But you love me." She nods and they both smile huge smiles. He kisses her again, sinking into her, into the bed.
My breath fogs up the window pane.

Would You Rather? has been included in an fiction anthology called 'Shot Glass Stories' available on Lulu.

Kit part 5.

Blood and tea mixed on the lino.
Kit didn't move. Mrs Gough had head the screaming, but Kit hadn't heard her knocking.

"Susie? Susie! Oh my God!"

She scrambled for the phone, and wrapped a tea towel around Julie's wrists. That's when she saw Kit underneath the table. She dropped the tea towel.

"She was crying so I made her a cup of tea," Kit whispered.

"Hush, baby, everything's going to be OK," she soothed.

Kit's icecream had melted into a tepid brown soup on the counter. The thought of the wasted ice cream made Kit sad as the paramedics teased him out.
Stephen still had two hours left on his curfew.

Kit part 4.

"No! I don't want a biscuit! Do you tink I'm fat? Is that why you think I want a biscuit? Does Stephen think I'm fat too? Is that why Stephen is snogging Kelly Slut Face Graham now?"

Julie's eyes cried black tears and Kit edged away from her. She screamed and hurled her cup of tea at Kit. He ducked under the table as the mug smashed against the kitchen wall. Steaming tea streamed off the table in front of Kit, pooling near his feet. He pulled his ankles in.
He could hear rattling around in the drawers above him but he couldn't see anything. Julie was whining hysterically and then she screamed out loud. Then she was quiet.

"Julie?" Kit whispered.

Suddenly, she was there, slumped in front of the cooker. Her wrists faced the ceiling, blood staining her jacket sleeves.

"Kit," she mouthed. No sound came out. She leant to the left and lay down, curling her knees to her chest.

Kit part 3.

Kit heard a scrape in the lock.

"Steve?"

"Kit is that you?"

"Julie?" Kit didn't wonder how she'd gotten hold of a key.

"Hi Kit. Is Stephen in?"

"No, he's gone to a party."

"Oh," she said. She looked upset.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" Kit knew that when his mum got upset, she liked to have a cup of tea. Julie nodded through her blonde fringe. Kit led her to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

"Did Stephen say where the party was, Kit?"

"No. He doesn't tell me anything so that I can't tell mum or Mrs Gough and get him in trouble."

"Did he talk about any girls?"

"No."

"Did he mention any girls called Kelly?"

"No."

"Kelly Graham?"

"No, he didn't say anything."

"Because she's a slut!" Kit knew what that word meant. Julie's eyes popped wide and she didn't blink for a full minute. Kit began to get scared.

"Do you want a biscuit?" he stuttered. Sometimes his mum and Mrs Gough would have a biscuit with their tea. Kit wasn't allowed to listen to what they said though, it was girl talk.

Kit part 2.

That nigt, Stephen was going to a party. He'd tried on three different shirts and asked Kit whic one he liked the best.

"The blue one," Kit said.

"I won't be back too late tonight," Stephen said. "But maybe a bit later than eleven. Don't tell mum or you'll get it. Understood?"

"Yeah."

"Don't tell Mrs Gough neither."

"I won't."

"Good. If you keep your end of the bargain, I'll get you a Snickers after football practice."

"Thanks."

"Only if you score a goal though," Stephen joked. He popped his collar and left. Kit went to the freezer and got himself a big bowl of Neapolitan icecream. It was his favourite, and when he was alone he could eat as muc of it as he wanted.

Kit part 1.

When Kit was ten years old, a visitor cut her wrists in the kitchen. Kit was hiding under the table when she did it.
Kit knew the visitor, it was Julie. Julie used to come over to visit Lee, Kit's older brother. They would do their homework in the bedroom and Kit would ahve to read his comics at the kitchen table.

"Kit, can't you read somewhere else, pet? I have to get the tea on before work," his mum used to say. She was a nurse and worked lates on rotation.

"Julie and Stephen are doing their homework," he'd say quietly.

"Oh, it's best you stay in here with me then, they won't want disturbing," she'd reply, furrowing her brow. "Do you want to help?"

Kit would gauge chunks out of potatoes and carrots with a knife, trying to peel them, then drop them into a pan of salted water.

"Thanks love, you're a good boy."

Kit's mum would ruffle his hair and sometimes kiss him on the cheek before se left, telling Stephen to be in by 11 o'clock. He'd groan and swear if it was a Friday night, but was usually be back in time because Mrs Gough would pop round to make sure everything was OK.

Mr Squid.

My name's Mr Squid.
We can be BFFs 'cause
I've got no elbows!