Smashing Pumpkins

I had already decided to break up with David when the pumpkin shaped cupcake appeared on my desk.

Ten minutes before the bell rang, I meandered into my classroom and spotted the cake, staring back at me with shiny black candy eyes and a mockingly sweet sugar smile. Ms. Robertson’s sly smirk told me all I needed to know about who had surreptitiously gained access to the classroom in the wee hours of the morning and secreted the pumpkin onto my desk.

David was my second real boyfriend, the first being a senior who had only been interested in sticking his tongue down my throat. I left him and a score of other painful memories behind when my family moved across country my junior year of high school. David was in my AP English class, fourth period, just before lunch. He was smart; sardonic and ironically romantic. He liked history; he liked me. But more important than all that was that he made me feel attractive for the first time in my life. Having resolved to make the most of the chance to reinvent myself in a new town, I boldly handed David my phone number after class one day with nothing more than a wink and a smile. We flirted via text for about a week before he officially asked me out.

I was thrilled to have a boyfriend, but it quickly became clear to me that I was more excited to be somebody’s girlfriend, than I was in being David’s girlfriend specifically. I liked him very much, but in love with him I was not.

I waited these feelings out for an uncomfortable few months, feeling like a liar when I wasn’t immersed in the glow of his attention, hoping that I would start to fall in love with him soon. By October I realized that it was just not going to happen. I was reluctant to break things off at first, but I soon realized that cool, snide David would be barely affected by my rejection. After all, nothing affected him much.

That’s when the cupcake appeared.

It was my first Halloween in a new town, and no one had warned me that teens smashing every carved pumpkin they could find was a customary way to celebrate the holiday. I was honestly and unexpectedly devastated the morning I went out to the bus to find my carefully crafted witch pumpkin in pieces on our driveway. I had never before experienced a pointless act of destruction like that and I told everyone at school about it, including David, in an attempt to make some sense out of the senselessness. The next morning, I found the pumpkin cupcake, with a small handwritten note under it saying, “A sweet replacement for the one you lost”.

I sat down at my desk, speechless, staring at the bright orange, frosted mass. The cupcake was an act of pure sentimentality, a trait I had not suspected David of possessing. Its only purpose was to make me feel better; not to make a joke at my expense or make him feel like a good boyfriend. It was only for me.

It had never occurred to me before that moment, before the pumpkin cupcake, how much I was actually going to hurt him.

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Advertisements

About rsjeffrey

A thinly published author who is widely read. No type of fiction is off limits, and I even enjoy plunging into the odd, well-written nonfiction tome as well. I am driven by a need to continuously move forward, so expect to see a lot of activity from me!
This entry was posted in Inspiration and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Smashing Pumpkins

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s