Freckle Face

Freckle Face
August 31, 2012 16 Comments Writing Stephanie Ayers

It was a gorgeous summer day at the pool. He had curly blonde hair, a decent body, and was a year old than me. He lived in my grandfather’s condominium complex, and swam like a competitor.

We played Marco Polo that day, challenged each other in holding our breaths underwater, and in who could swim the farthest. I remember emerging as the champion, and the feel of his chlorine slicked body embracing mine before our parents made us take a break.

My grandfather, of course, thought it was the funniest thing and made sure to get the boy’s phone number before I left. I must have turned fifty shades of red because he laughed as he handed it to me. I smiled all the way home, and then my mom refused to let me call him because it was after 8:00 pm when we finally got home.

Our champion swim marathon turned into champion telephone marathons. I wore a path on the dining room carpet pacing as I talked to him, bound by the cord of the telephone. My mom hovered nearby, finding something else in the kitchen that needed cleaning, staying conveniently within hearing range. I would spin, twist, and wind the cord around myself, my mouth never ceasing movement.

After a week of conversation, I begged and I pleaded to have my now-boyfriend over to visit. His mom had agreed to bring him down, so it was up to me to get my parents to approve. My mom finally caved and agreed to let him come.

I was awake with the sun that morning, an unusual feat for me. I liked my sleep but this day was an exception. I was having a real live boy over! Oh how time moved so slow that morning! Up and down I went, continuing even after my mom told me to sit still. I just couldn’t!

Finally, the doorbell rings. He’s here! I opened the door, and there he stood. His curls hugged his head tighter than I remembered, endless freckles I hadn’t noticed before decorated his face. He smiled crookedly, the gaps from growing teeth drawing my attention. His arms spread wide in greeting, embracing me, before he waved his mom away.

“Hi,” he said, his hot and foul breath hitting me like a pile of dirt released from the back of a dump truck.

I took him to the living room and went in search of my mom.  She took one look at my wide-eyed, horrified expression and laughed.

“Boys sure look different when you have your glasses on, don’t they?” she said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The editors at Write on Edge gave us 450 words to tell a story about a face to face meeting that didn’t go exactly as planned. This story comes from my real life archives. I was 11 that summer and well…I hope you enjoyed this little memoir.

I welcome and appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts in a comment.

Thanks for stopping in!

 

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Stephanie Ayers A published author with a knack for twisted tales, Stephanie Ayers is the Executive Creative Director of OWS Ink, LLC, a community for writers and readers alike. She loves a good thriller, fairies, things that go bump in the night, and sappy stories. When she is not writing, she can be found in Creative Cloud designing book covers and promotional graphics for authors.
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  1. 16 Comments

    Lance

    At least you had bad eyesight as an excuse. My eyes didn’t start going bad til I was 35.

    lovely prose and funny story

    Reply
    1. 16 Comments

      SAM

      Ohh, that little brat still emerges from time to time. 😉

      Reply
  2. 16 Comments

    Carrie

    Oh my….SAM, that is hilarious! Mainly because i could see that happening to me since i have crappy eyesight and by that age i had to wear glasses fill time.

    I love the description of his breath and his gap filled mouth.

    Reply
    1. 16 Comments

      SAM

      Blindness gets you every time. I think I could have handled his appearance but that breath…

      Reply
  3. 16 Comments

    Morgan Kellum

    What a crackup! I loved the way your described your mom … she knew all along, but you painted her caution to be that of any teenage mom. Well done!

    Reply
    1. 16 Comments

      SAM

      Thanks, Morgan. What a great thing to hear.

      Reply
  4. 16 Comments

    Chelle

    What a great memory. I’ve had bad vision since I was in 3rd grade so I totally relate to having met people when I wasn’t wearing my glasses/contacts and then seeing them again with clear vision. You captured those moments perfectly, as well as how we can build things up in our minds.

    Reply
  5. 16 Comments

    Patricia (@patricialynne07)

    That was too cute and funny. Loved how you described the Mom whenever she was on the phone.

    Reply
  6. 16 Comments

    cait

    Loved the story! Perfect. And the last line made me crack up! 🙂 Love the flow of your writing and the phrases you used! (Like “bound by the cord of the telephone”. Creates a vivid picture.

    Reply
  7. 16 Comments

    Angela (@angelaamman)

    Funny! I guess the chlorine smell masked the breath at the pool! I think my favorite part is the way you painted the picture of your mother: cautious, a constant presence, yet letting you figure things out for yourself.

    Reply
  8. 16 Comments

    shelton keys dunning

    Oh my, I’ve heard of beer goggles but swim goggles? But he was twelve. Surely he grew out of that awkward stage.

    Quick thought: I think you meant “year older than me”.

    Reply
    1. 16 Comments

      SAM

      Hahahahah. I read that 1000 times and never caught it. 😛

      Reply
  9. 16 Comments

    rgayer55

    I enjoyed this very much. You did an excellent job building up the anticipation. The next question is How Do I Get Rid of Him? You are a very talented writer. I look forward to reading more from you.

    Reply
    1. 16 Comments

      SAM

      Wow! What a wonderful compliment. Thank you, Russell.

      Reply
  10. 16 Comments

    Cameron

    Giggle… Nicely done!

    Reply
    1. 16 Comments

      SAM

      Haha, thanks, Cam.

      Reply

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