Read Online Valley of the Scarecrow by Gord Rollo - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Gord Rollo
Ads: Link
promise.”
“Just like that, huh? You’re sorry and I’m supposed to just fall back into your arms? It’s not that easy, Dan, and words are pretty damn cheap.”
“I know they are. Look…all I’m asking is for you to give me a second chance. I screwed up. I was an asshole but I love you and you know I do. Give me a chance to prove it to you. No games, no promises, no bullshit. Just a chance, okay?”
They’d finished cleaning up the broken glass and Kelly handed Dan the dustpan. “We’ll see. I need to think about it.” She walked away, headed for the fire pit where Rich and Lizzy were trying to pretend they hadn’t been trying to eavesdrop on their private conversation.
“What did he say?” Lizzy asked after giving her friend a hug.
“Said he was an asshole,” Kelly said, smiling, a fresh tear falling down her cheek.
“I already told ya that,” Rich said, and they all started laughing.
The bonfire party progressed surprisingly well. Dan minded his manners and gave Kelly just enough breathing room that she felt comfortable being there and having fun but not close enough she felt he was staking any claim on her. In fact, after a few Budweisers there were moments she wished he would get a little closer, the thought of his warm body pressed against her constantly on her mind the cooler the night became. She fought the urges to go to him though, determined not to be such a pushover. He had to learn there was no way she would ever put up with that kind of shit again. Until he did, they’d both just have to get used to being a little cold at night.
Their friend Patrick Brannon showed up carrying a twelve-pack of Corona and his camera bag slung over his shoulder like usual. It was hard to label an unusual guy like him, but if asked, he’d probably describe himself as a “recovering goth” these days. Pat was a quirky guy who’d recently graduated from all the black lipstick and pancake makeup, but wasn’t quite ready to give up the spiky hairstyles or dark baggy clothing. He was definitely a bit of a weirdo, quiet and moody if he was depressed, but he’d always been too comical and cheery to live the solemn life of a true goth and for the most part he was a fun guy to be around. The very fact that he was so different from the rest of the gang was partly what had brought them together. Sure, he was still trying to find his way in the world, but hell, who wasn’t these days. They were alloutcasts to a certain degree, and being a strange dude or not, Pat had always seemed to fit right in. Kelly couldn’t remember ever seeing Pat without his camera. It was almost a physical piece of him, another part of his body as important to him as an arm or leg. Even he would admit he used the camera lens as a buffer to keep the world at bay sometimes; his tiny shield he sometimes needed to help cope with situations he wasn’t comfortable in. Without it he’d be lost. He’d taken thousands of pictures of them over the years and Kelly was sure there’d be a hell of a lot of them she hoped no one else ever saw. True to form, he reached into his bag and started snapping pictures of Rich trying to get the fire started.
“Hey, Pat,” Kelly said. “Why are you by yourself? Where’s Sheila?”
“Who knows? She dumped me last week. I’m flying solo at the moment.” He announced his breakup with a smile on his face so he couldn’t be all that upset about it. Kelly asked anyway.
“That sucks. You okay?”
“Sure. No biggie. Apparently she thought I was going way too straight for her tastes. She’s pretty hard-core and I was getting tired of it. Goth is for kids, man. You gotta grow up sometime, right?”
“We do?” Lizzy said. “Bummer.”
“Sorry to break it to ya, but yeah. To be honest, I’m glad she’s gone. She’s already seeing some Marilyn Man-son dipshit in a band across town.”
“Hey, easy now,” Rich said, wrapping his arm around Liz. “Nothing wrong with Manson, dude. I’ve been
“Just like that, huh? You’re sorry and I’m supposed to just fall back into your arms? It’s not that easy, Dan, and words are pretty damn cheap.”
“I know they are. Look…all I’m asking is for you to give me a second chance. I screwed up. I was an asshole but I love you and you know I do. Give me a chance to prove it to you. No games, no promises, no bullshit. Just a chance, okay?”
They’d finished cleaning up the broken glass and Kelly handed Dan the dustpan. “We’ll see. I need to think about it.” She walked away, headed for the fire pit where Rich and Lizzy were trying to pretend they hadn’t been trying to eavesdrop on their private conversation.
“What did he say?” Lizzy asked after giving her friend a hug.
“Said he was an asshole,” Kelly said, smiling, a fresh tear falling down her cheek.
“I already told ya that,” Rich said, and they all started laughing.
The bonfire party progressed surprisingly well. Dan minded his manners and gave Kelly just enough breathing room that she felt comfortable being there and having fun but not close enough she felt he was staking any claim on her. In fact, after a few Budweisers there were moments she wished he would get a little closer, the thought of his warm body pressed against her constantly on her mind the cooler the night became. She fought the urges to go to him though, determined not to be such a pushover. He had to learn there was no way she would ever put up with that kind of shit again. Until he did, they’d both just have to get used to being a little cold at night.
Their friend Patrick Brannon showed up carrying a twelve-pack of Corona and his camera bag slung over his shoulder like usual. It was hard to label an unusual guy like him, but if asked, he’d probably describe himself as a “recovering goth” these days. Pat was a quirky guy who’d recently graduated from all the black lipstick and pancake makeup, but wasn’t quite ready to give up the spiky hairstyles or dark baggy clothing. He was definitely a bit of a weirdo, quiet and moody if he was depressed, but he’d always been too comical and cheery to live the solemn life of a true goth and for the most part he was a fun guy to be around. The very fact that he was so different from the rest of the gang was partly what had brought them together. Sure, he was still trying to find his way in the world, but hell, who wasn’t these days. They were alloutcasts to a certain degree, and being a strange dude or not, Pat had always seemed to fit right in. Kelly couldn’t remember ever seeing Pat without his camera. It was almost a physical piece of him, another part of his body as important to him as an arm or leg. Even he would admit he used the camera lens as a buffer to keep the world at bay sometimes; his tiny shield he sometimes needed to help cope with situations he wasn’t comfortable in. Without it he’d be lost. He’d taken thousands of pictures of them over the years and Kelly was sure there’d be a hell of a lot of them she hoped no one else ever saw. True to form, he reached into his bag and started snapping pictures of Rich trying to get the fire started.
“Hey, Pat,” Kelly said. “Why are you by yourself? Where’s Sheila?”
“Who knows? She dumped me last week. I’m flying solo at the moment.” He announced his breakup with a smile on his face so he couldn’t be all that upset about it. Kelly asked anyway.
“That sucks. You okay?”
“Sure. No biggie. Apparently she thought I was going way too straight for her tastes. She’s pretty hard-core and I was getting tired of it. Goth is for kids, man. You gotta grow up sometime, right?”
“We do?” Lizzy said. “Bummer.”
“Sorry to break it to ya, but yeah. To be honest, I’m glad she’s gone. She’s already seeing some Marilyn Man-son dipshit in a band across town.”
“Hey, easy now,” Rich said, wrapping his arm around Liz. “Nothing wrong with Manson, dude. I’ve been
Similar Books
