Prompt: Write a story that takes place at a birthday party.
Grace stood in the corner of the room and brooded with her
drink. She couldn’t believe that she had
allowed herself to be talked into coming to Deanna’s birthday party. She didn’t even like Deanna. She would much rather be at home on her couch
in her favorite Texans t-shirt and shorts preferably with a good book or
watching the game on TV. She pulled her
phone out for the hundredth time and checked the score, oh man the Rockets were
tied with the Thunder with two minutes left in the game. Looking around, she realized that no one
would notice if she slipped out to the balcony to watch the rest of the
game. Sitting her drink down, she slide
through the crowd and out of the door.
Pulling her sweater tighter, she opened the NBA Live app and tuned into
the game. She was so intent on the action;
she didn’t even hear the door slide open again.
It wasn’t until she heard the flipped of the zippo that she realized
that someone else was on the patio.
Inching to one side, she turned her attention to the end of the
game. Forgetting where she was, she
yelled at her phone, “Calling a fucking foul!
He was hacked.” She heard the
chuckle and remembered she wasn’t at home.
“Sorry,” she mumbled over her shoulder.
Holding her breath, she didn’t even listen for a response but waited for
the final seconds to tick down. “So what
is the score?” drawled the voice behind her.
“102-103, Rockets lead with 19 seconds left,” she threw over her
shoulder. Gritting her teeth to keep
from yelling Grace groaned when Trevor missed his first free throw. As he bounced the ball for his second
attempt, Grace felt a presence behind her and turned looking up into a face
that was more interesting than handsome.
“Sorry, I just wanted to see the end,” he said as he stepped back some. “No worries, I just didn’t know you were
behind me.” She held her phone out for
him to see and was giddy with happiness as Harden stole the inbound pass and
slammed the ball home. “YES!” she yelled
and the man could not contain his chuckle.
“If you were so interested in watching the game, what are you doing
here?” “My friend drug me here, full
guilt trip, and all. I would have much
rather been home watching the game.”
Stepping away from him, she put her phone in her pocket. “So you like basketball and not parties.
Interesting. I’m Mason,” he said
extending his hand. “Grace,” she replied
gripping his hand firmly. “Sorry but I
have to go,” she mumbled. “Why are you
running off? You are the most
interesting person that I have met tonight.”
“ What makes you think I am
interesting?” she challenged. “Well, all
the other women here are dressed like they are going clubbing and inside
fighting for attention but you came in jeans and converse and snuck outside to
watch basketball. In my book, that makes
you interesting.” She looked at him, not
sure how to respond. She found herself attracted to him but she couldn’t figure
out why. His voice was slow and deep
with a definite Southern drawl. His face
was angular with a large scare running down one cheek. His dark hair was rumpled but his eyes, his
clear green eyes were kind and sparkled with humor. He was looking at her as if
he knew she was about to bolt. “I’m
really not that interesting.” Just as he
was about to respond, the door slid open.
“There you are Grace come on they are about to bring out her birthday
cake,” Amy demanded pulling her arm. “Sorry,
I have to go,” she murmured to him. Allowing
herself to be pulled forward, she looked back, met his eyes, and knew that this
would not be the last time that she spoke to him.
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