Short Story: Cherry Soda 2
I’ve never been cut out for civilized society. My appetites are just too strong.
This is the second draft of my short story, after editing suggestions generously made by Thaddeus Thomas. You can read the third draft as well as my original post before Thaddeus posts his critique on Monday.
Becky froze as everyone turned and stared. She’d made a loud slurping noise while finishing the last of her cherry soda. She hadn’t meant to; it was a force of habit.
She was about to apologize when a loud gurgling noise broke the silence. She blushed. The other girls grimaced and the boys wrinkled their noses like she smelled bad.
Conversation started up again, and she wasn’t part of it.
She’d been so desperate to not stay home on a Saturday night, she’d accepted an invitation to eat out that was offered out of pity. She’d drifted away from her childhood friends over the years, yet kept hanging on, begging for their scraps, hoping something would change, somehow.
Sally, Jenny and Mary-Sue. They were all thin and pretty and looked great in the latest fashions. She was too fat to look good in anything. Each of them had a boy seated next to them. She was sitting alone in the corner of the booth.
Jenny was the prettiest. The cherry soda they were drinking had stained her lips red. Mike had his arm around her. Becky used to have a crush on him, and once he found out, he’d terrorized her, humiliating her every chance he got.
The waiter brought their orders. Burgers and chips. The smell of it made her mouth water, and she feared her stomach would betray her again. No matter how much she ate, she always felt hungry. It made it so hard to lose weight. She hoped the food would settle her stomach.
She picked up her burger and opened her mouth wide. Someone made an “oink” sound.
“Are you sure you want to be eating that?” Mike asked. “We might have to roll you out of here.”
Jenny gasped and swatted his arm. Becky could feel the heat build in her cheeks and tears prick the back of her eyes.
To hell with this.
She shot up and headed towards the exit. Laughter followed her.
“Come on, you’re always complaining about her…”
She broke into a run, not wanting to hear any more. Cool, night air brushed her wet face as she burst through the doors. Tears ran freely now. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed.
She heard her stomach growl again, there was a hole sucking on her insides. She didn’t even get to eat anything and she wanted food so bad.
She hated herself so much. A fat loser without any friends.
I’m disgusting.
“Scuse me, miss. Are you all right?”
She startled at the voice coming from behind. It sounded like an 80 year old man who’d smoked twenty packs a day from birth. To her surprise, the speaker was a young man.
He was dressed in a leather jacket and had a goatee. His thick curls sprang wildly from underneath a poor boy cap, reminding her of a lion. He smelled of tobacco and motor oil.
Not the kind of man she should be talking to. She glanced around; the street was empty except for the two of them. Her heart beat a little faster.
“Sure, I’m fine,” she muttered and wiped her tears.
“Oh sorry, I should have known you were crying tears of joy.”
She didn’t have anything to say to that. He took out a pack of cigarettes from his jean pocket.
“I saw what happened. Great friends you’ve got there.”
“Well, I guess they aren’t really my friends. What’s it to you?”
“Oh nothing. I just don’t think anyone deserves to be treated that way.”
His words caused tears to well up again. She blinked and looked away. Her head was swimming and the ground felt unsteady beneath her. She really needed something to eat
“Thanks. I should be getting home.”
“Okay. How you getting there?”
“Oh, I’ll walk, my neighborhood is just a few blocks away.”
“I could give you a lift.” He inclined his head towards a Harley Davidson parked a few feet away.
She struggled to come up with the right thing to say to get him to leave her alone without making him mad. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool and she couldn’t think properly.
“No thank you, I can’t get on a bike. My father would kill me.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
She took two steps and stumbled.
“Woah, you okay there?”
“Yeah, I’m just feeling a little woozy.”
“I don’t like letting you go off into the street like this. Let me walk with you a bit.”
Maybe he was dangerous, maybe she would collapse in the road on the way home, she didn’t know anymore. She was too hungry and tired and faint to argue.
“All right,” she agreed.
They walked in silence for a bit. The dizziness had faded, but her thoughts were still covered in a thick blanket. She couldn’t concentrate on anything with her stomach gnawing at her.
“I never got your name,” she said, trying to regain focus. “I’m Becky, by the way.”
“You can call me Steve.”
“All right, Steve. So, are you a part of a biker gang or something?”
“A gang? No way. I ride solo. I’m a lone wolf.”
“So what do you do for a living?”
“I don’t do anything for a living, I just live. Each morning, I get on my bike and go wherever the road takes me. I sleep under the stars. I do whatever I want.”
“So you’re a bum.”
“That’s what most people would call me, I suppose.”
“I think I might envy you. It sounds so free. Still, it must be a hard life, on the streets.”
“Not for me.”
The moon ducked in and out behind the oak trees as they reached the suburbs. Closer to food. There was leftover chicken, and ice cream in the freezer, and Cheez Whiz…
“Don’t you ever get lonely though?” she asked.
He took a drag from his cigarette.
“Sure, course I do. But it’s better this way. Safer for people to stay away from me.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’ve never been cut out for civilized society. My appetites are just too strong. I’ve tried to fight them, truly I have. But I always lose.”
She supposed he was talking about alcohol or drugs. Or women? Who was she to judge, when all she could think about was getting home so she could stuff her face?
“I see,” she said. “You know, I think I might become a lone wolf too. People are just too mean and fake. Who needs ‘em’.”
“Good for you. With enemies like those, who needs friends, right?”
She glanced away, smiling. Then stopped walking.
“Well, here we are.”
“Your parents. They home?” he asked.
“No, they went to a party.”
“I just want to say, those boys are fools. I think you’re just swell. I like a girl with some meat on her bones.”
She forced a smile. She felt exposed, like she was standing there naked, even with all her clothes on. What had she been thinking, walking around at night with a strange man.
“Well… Good night then. Thanks for walking me home.”
He flicked his half finished cigarette to the pavement and stomped on it.
“Good night Becky. It was real nice talking to you.”
“Nice talking to you too. Good night.”
She took several steps backward, turned around towards the house. Picked up her pace. Then broke into a run.
Arms like steel bars locked around her waist, pulled her to the ground. Fangs glinted in the moonlight. Then the sting, just above her collarbone.
She tried to fight him, but it was like trying to lift a truck. Tried to scream, but had no breath.
Hot blood trickled down her chest and pooled on the lawn. The last thing she saw before she closed her eyes was the safety of her house a few feet away.
There was no pain when she opened her eyes. In fact, she felt good. She sat up, touched her neck. There was no wound, just congealed blood.
He was still there, watching her.
She leapt onto her feet like a cat. Everything felt wrong, looked wrong. Too bright, like daytime, but the moon was still out.
“Woah, calm down. I’m not going to hurt you… anymore.”
“What did you do to me?”
“I made you better. Set you free.”
“You’re a vampire.”
“And now, so are you.”
She held her hands out in front of her. She could see every ridge on her fingertips in extreme detail. She could see the veins of a leaf half a mile away. She could hear the sounds of dozens of tiny animals burrowing, climbing, breathing, their little hearts beating so fast.
The blood throbbing.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Different. Amazing.”
He grinned like a wolf on the hunt.
“It does feel great, don’t it. Like the scales have finally fallen from your eyes.”
She felt something else. Hunger hit her senseless. Her whole body ached with it. It was no longer burgers and chips she was craving.
“Why? Why didn’t you just… kill me?”
“I almost did. You tasted so sweet, like cherry soda. But I like you, I guess. I didn’t realize how lonely I was until I saw you sitting there in that diner, fighting a hunger you could never satisfy. I know what that’s like.”
Her hunger was worse than ever. Her body was shaking with overwhelming urge to bite into flesh.
“That doesn’t give you the right…”
“See, the thing about me is, I’m no better than any animal. Rights don’t come into it. I told you I have appetites. You have appetites too, though you try to hide it.”
“I am hungry. I mean really hungry. It hurts.”
“I know it does. You need to eat.”
“You mean…”
“Why don’t we go find those not-friends of yours.”