| Creative Writing Competition 2012 India | |
| CODE | 472 |
| SETTING | Terrace OR Bedroom OR Living Hall |
| OBJECT | Any Jewellery – Necklace, Ring… |
| THEME | Funny Experience |
Friends Short Story – The Soda Pact
Friends Short Story – The Soda Pact
Two tickets lay on the chest of drawers. The plane bound for Massachusetts would leave at midnight that night and I was left with about six hours to pack and clear customs. At midnight, I would say goodbye to Windsor Court and I didn’t know if I’d ever come back.
Lunch was served on the terrace, the chairs had been ranged under a large umbrella and the dishes on a table under an awning. While my aunt and her boyfriend talked, I shovelled potatoes into my mouth.
“What’s your rush, Amandine? You’re going to choke yourself!”
“Sorry,” I offered, scraping back my chair as I stood, “some stuff I need to pick up at the supermarket. Mind if I take your bike?”
“Just don’t crash it,” was her customary reply, paired with a cheeky grin.
I fished the keys out from a bowl on the mantle and waved at my aunt.
“I’ll have the ironing done when you get back,” she called after me.
I buttoned down my coat as the motorbike sprang to life. Cold air whipped against my ears, but the ride was a short one. I was relieved to find the supermarket bereft of the usual Saturday rush. I had been scanning the toiletries isle when I heard a familiar voice. Turning around, I saw young man in sweats pushing a trolley.
I nearly stumbled. “Terence Wollcraft?”
“In the flesh!” He grinned.
“How have you bee-” I held out my hand but he had other plans – I found myself in an intimate one-armed hug.
“Haven’t seen you in ages, you look good.”
“You as well,” I would be lying if I was lying.
“Where have you been?”
“Garth University.” I nodded, then added spitefully, “I heard you became a coach.”
“That’s right,” he said drumming his fingers against his trolley. It was filled to the brim with beer cans and pretzels.
“Still having those block-parties, huh?” I asked.
“Hey if you’re free tonight,” his eyes sparkled, “You know the house. For old time’s sake, what do you say?”
My aunt told me I had a visitor. The terrace was lit with the fairy lights I had insisted on having and in their warm glow, a figure was leaning against the railing.
“Calvin!” I kissed him on the cheek.
He tipped his hat at me – he had been wearing the ugly thing since school. He handed me a can of ale and sighed. “Can’t believe tonight’s the night.”
“Nor can I,” I said honestly.
“I got you a present.” He pulled out a small red box from his coat.
“You really shouldn’t have!” I chuckled, undoing the silver ribbon. Placed carefully on a soft wad of cloth was a pendant.
I held it out to the light by the gold chain and gasped.
“The bottle cap?”
He nodded, smiling.
***
Many summers ago, a local brand of soda was sponsoring a Sum 41 show and was giving out ten free tickets to anyone who found the winning bottle cap of their newest flavour – PeachMango. As far as the drink went, it was no good. But the gimmick worked and PeachMango began to fly off the shelves. Kids everywhere were blowing up their pocket money on soda. Years later, Calvin and I laughed bitterly at the fact that we probably ended up spending more on soda we might have for tickets.
Calvin always thought of it fondly. I recalled it quite differently:
Terence Wollcraft had burst into class one next morning with a proposal.
” They’re giving away free tickets to a Sum 41 concert.”
“In Windsor?” I asked incredulously.
“No, in Garth County, but that’s practically next door!” Terence replied holding out a soda can label for us to read.
Nobody else ever stopped by the store to buy soda on their way to school. In fact, soda was banned in JMHS, but Terence religiously drank it every morning. It was simply the embryonic stage of his drinking problem.
“That can’t be legit.” I leaned back in my chair.
“Totally legit.” Terence corrected. “They say if you find the special bottle cap, you trade it in for a ticket. And get this-” Calvin and I leaned closer, “winners get to have their photographs taken with the band.”
“Wait, one ticket per cap?” I asked.
“No, two.” Terence said.
“That’s even more problematic, there are three of us.” Calvin folded his arms, his forehead creasing.
“Okay look, winner picks his date-” Terence began.
“Or her.” I interjected.
“Yeah, yeah, so we have to leave this up to fate. But we’ve all got to try okay?”
“I’m in.” Calvin shrugged.
I nodded and sat erect. “Gentlemen, let the drinking begin.”
“What?” Calvin squinted at me
“I’ve just always wanted to say that.”
“That’s weird.”
“It makes me feel like I’m twenty.”
“That is weird.”
“Closed?” Terence groaned, pressing his face against the glass window of Ridge Street General. “Wait, hold up.” Calvin stepped in. “Why don’t we just try the store at the sports centre?”
Terence beamed at him before tearing down the road.
We were slowed down by a group of old men in sagging swimming trunks who were shuffling past the exit towards the pool gates. Terence could barely contain his excitement and he shoved past the last of them, racing up to the store counter.
“Three PeachMangos please.” He barked at the salesman.
“That’ll be $2.25.”
Terence patted his pockets. “Oh, I can’t believe it!” He gasped.
“What’s the matter?” Calvin asked.
“I forgot my bloody wallet!”
“I’ll pay for it.” I said, pulling out a few bills.
“Thanks a ton, A.” Terence smiled gratefully, carrying the bottles down to a table in the lawns.
We each sat down at the table, pulling a bottle for ourselves.
“You know what, we should propose a toast.” Calvin simpered.
“Dude, they do that after the good news.” Terence said.
“Nah, I’m pretty sure it’s before.”
I gawked at Calvin. “What would we toast with?”
“The soda, of course.”
“But then-”
“Let’s open these babies up!” Terence said, gripping a bottle opener and wasting no time.
I had always thought of Terence as the lucky one. He seemed to be blessed by the gods with stunning features, a winning smile, athletic stamina and fairly good grades. Not only this, he commanded the respect of all the boys in our year and made girls swoon just by nodding at them. In that moment, when the lid off his soda clattered onto the hardwood table top, I was almost certain that he would win.
But he didn’t.
“Oh my god.” Calvin gasped.
“WHAT?” Terence and I rushed to his side. There between his fingers, was the most beautiful bottle cap we had seen in our whole lives. The Sum 41 logo was printed into the centre over a small portion of the cover art of their latest release.
Terence was beside himself, he raised his bottle, “now, we toast.”
A soft chink rose into the air and we tipped our sodas into our mouths and wiped our lips with the backs of our hands.
“Live long and prosper, Cal.”
That was the first time he had ever addressed him so intimately, and Calvin seemed to notice.
“Go claim your loot, you jackass!” Terence shoved him in the direction of the store.
Calvin returned holding what looked like two boarding passes. He ran his fingers across the front of the ticket to show us the words ‘backstage access’ printed in red.
I squealed a bit, secretly hoping he would take me.
We sauntered out onto the street, still sipping our sodas and I threw my arm around Calvin’s neck.
“So, who are you going to ta-”
Just then a huge gust of wind blew sand into our eyes and we were left standing, blinking rapidly and completely exposed to the second gust. Calvin, still slightly blinded, was unable to hold onto the passes when the wind blew them right out of his hand.
Terence roared like a demon and darted down the road after them. As though it would have any consequence, he flung his bottle at the receding tickets in an attempt to slow them down. Calvin and I ran helter-skelter, still blinking the dirt from our eyes. As we tore after him, we watched in horror as Terence tripped on something and slammed into the ground. Rushing over to his aid, we found him clutching a ticket in his hand, with the other stretched out in front of him. As though looking at a lover who was speeding away on a train, Terence bellowed a single word. “Maaaaaaaaaaanhooooooooole!”
Calvin and I turned to look and just about saw the corner of the precious ticket disappear into the mouth of the forbidden sewage system. Calvin peered into its grimy depths, his face screwed up as though he was going to cry.
Calvin straightened up, cleared his throat, patted Terence’s shoulder and was trying to wrench the remaining ticket form his hands. “Good show, Terence. Mighty lucky we had an athlete with us today.”
“You lost the bloody ticket, you git,” was the unflattering response.
Terence made to snatch the ticket, but Calvin held it back.
“Now hang on, those tickets were mine to lose, not yours.”
“You don’t deserve this ticket!” Terence succeeded in pulling away.
“Whoa,” I snatched the ticket from him. “I didn’t see you paying for those sodas, what makes you more deserving than me?”
“You know, it was my idea to go to this store anyway.” Calvin pulled the ticket away from me.
“Yeah, well this whole thing was my idea, so I get the tickets!” Terence lunged forward.
“It was my money!” I leapt in as well.
There was much scuffling for a few moments when Calvin began squeaking, “You’re going to tear it!”
We all backed off and the ticket ended up in Terence’s hand.
“That’s better.” He rolled his shoulders decisively, storming off, “I’ll be seeing you around.”
The next morning, I had decided to sweet talk my way into getting the tickets.
Patting the seat next to me, I waited for Terence to sit down. He cautiously eased himself in next to me and grunted a “g’mornin'”. I slapped down a sheaf of papers before him.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a peace offering.” I smiled. “These are the notes you wanted from Mr Williams’ class.”
He flipped through them and exhaled through his nose. “That’s mighty nice of you, I would’ve photocopied them myself.”
“Anything for my best bud.” I tilted my head to a side, trying to look as sincere as possible.
By the time lunch came around, I was trailing him into the cafeteria, complimenting him on how much weight he’d lost after joining the team. Admittedly, this didn’t seem like a trick that would work on a preteen boy, but Terence had been rather obsessive about the way he looked since a very early age. The cafeteria was rather crowded and he hovered about near a bench waiting for a few kids to finish talking and leave.
“Hey, nitwits.” I slammed my tray down on the table. “In case you didn’t notice the universe is inhabited by other people too, so if you’re done talking about your fake tans and your plastic nails, MOVE.”
Terence raised his eyebrows at this. The eleven year olds looked up fearfully at me and then shuffled off as though they had been punished. The entire table was cleared and we sat down.
“Um, thanks?” He said gingerly.
“Oh, don’t mention it.”
“Damnit, forgot my juice.”
“Oh, I’ll get it!” I shot right up, making for the queue.
On the way I encountered a rather sullen looking Calvin.
“I have your money, by the way,” he informed me. “For the soda, just so we’re even.”
“Hm? Oh no, that’s fine.”
“So this is what it comes to?”
“What?”
“Running errands for that jerk?”
“Buzz off!”
“I thought you were better than this.”
I snorted and returned to Terence, who scrutinized me as he thanked me.
“Anything for my best bud!”
“You’ve been saying that all day long, you’re trying to get the ticket aren’t you?”
My face immediately became a bitter scowl. “What are you going to do with them, Terry? Your mom’s never going to let you go to Garth alone!”
“Oh and yours is?”
“I had a talk with her. I’m thirteen now, I can do anything. You’re still twelve.”
“Your birthday isn’t even till next month.” He growled.
“What will you do, make your dad buy a ticket for himself?”
“None of your business!” He said, poking a straw into his juice.
“Fine.” I snatched the juice away from him and stormed out of the cafeteria.
The next few days were spent formalizing my own pact with Calvin. We bought nearly ten bottled of PeachMango on the condition that no matter who got the winning bottle cap, we would both go and royally ignore Terence Wollcraft when we saw him backstage. But luck was not in our favour. Calvin was clutching his stomach and rolling around on the grass in the park for most of the afternoon and I just managed to keep myself from throwing up. Anybody who was watching us on that small hill might have thought we were under influence.
“This is ridiculous, I’m going to go try and swap my soul for Terry’s ticket.” I said, burping. “Excuse me.”
“No!” Calvin moaned.
“I’m going to be sick.”
But we weren’t the only ones who were sick that week.
It turned out that Terence had been guzzling an equal amount of soda in order to score more tickets. He was about as successful as we were.
I discovered him sprawled on the front steps of his house on my way back from an evening at Calvin’s
“Amandine?” He moaned. “I think I’m dying.”
“What happened to you?” I asked him, prodding his ankle with my shoe.
His head rolled around on the edge of the top most step. I had never seen him looking so wasted, but they years that followed challenged even this.
“I was on my way to buy m-more Peach-” He paused to belch, “PeachMango, and then I couldn’t go on, so I had to lie down.”
“On the porch?”
“It gets comfortable when you can’t feel your skin anymore.”
“I can’t believe what we’re doing for a concert.”
“It’s not just-” He hiccoughed trying to sit, “-just s-some concert. It’s a Sum 41 concert.”
“Maybe instead of drinking the stuff we could use it to clean out the toilet.” I brooded.
Terence moaned a bit more before slumping against the wooden pillar. “You want to know something?”
“Mmhm?”
“I’m trying to get those two tickets for you and-” He stopped short, whether it was because he was about to hiccough or because he just couldn’t bring himself to say the word. “For your friend.”
I mulled over this for two days before walking up to him before Mr Williams’ class.
“I’ve been thinking about what you were trying to do, Terry.”
We had all just begun to regain our health.
“And I thought that was the nicest thing anyone had ever done.”
Terence grunted a bit, reaching for his textbooks and stationery. “Forget it, it’s not like it worked.”
“No, but it’s the thought that counts.” I said warmly. “What are you going to do with the ticket?”
“I don’t really know, A.”
“Weren’t you going to take Jessica?”
“Yeah, well, I sure did a bang up job on the whole double date situation didn’t I?”
I ignored the implication that Calvin and I were even remotely interested in each other.
“Maybe you could sell it to someone, Terry.”
He shook his head and reached into his pocket. “You take it.”
I found him pressing the concert ticket into my hands. I was elated, beaming up at him
“You’re going to wish I was there with you, but go have fun without me.”
That afternoon, I weighed all my options and took the bus to Calvin’s house at about four. He was asleep when I arrived. I knocked thrice on the door before it swung open. Having known him only a few terms, I didn’t think it proper to fling myself into his room the way I did now days.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to give you something.” I wasn’t entirely sure whether Calvin would even be allowed to go alone.
“Come in.” He left the door open, flopping down on his bed.
It might have occurred to me that Calvin was on the verge of a serious flu, considering the way he looked. But I was so wrapped up in returning the ticket to its rightful owner that I didn’t notice his pale and clammy skin and the dull look in his eyes. They brightened considerably when I handed him the single ticket, but they lacked the usual lustre.
“Why are you giving me this?” He asked.
“Technically, the ticket is yours, Cal.” I bowed my head. “It was your bottle at the store you picked. So, you should get to go to the concert.”
The little scuffle seems even more ridiculous when I think about it now. Calvin was down with a terrible fever during the concert and the ticket went to waste, but he had held on to the winning bottle cap.
***
“I can’t believe you kept this thing.” I said to him, on my aunt’s terrace.
He grinned smugly. “Some memory, huh?”
“You bet.”
He sighed, adjusting his hat and leaning against the railing. “We got off on a rocky start didn’t we?”
“But we made it.” I smiled, running my finger over the Sum 41 logo. “You took good care of this thing.”
“It was the start of something beautiful.” He batted his eyelids at me and chuckled to himself.
“It really is beautiful.” I said throwing my arm around my best friend’s neck.
__END__
