Hiding in Plain Sight
A wandering refugee from ficlets, lost for nearly a decade.
She watched Christine huff out of the café, snarky keychains jangling.
Jesus. Christine was just too much these days.
Darceline’s phone buzzed, and the endorphins made the room spin. It was Kevin. “Cant w8 2cu :)” The back of her neck got hot, and the corners of her mouth defied the confines of her cheeks. She typed eighty-eight hearts and hit send.
Her phone buzzed again. “Fascist bitch!” said Christine.
“Rude!” she muttered to herself. She looked out the window, and saw Christine waiting for the light to change. Christine offered her a pair of middle fingers and mouthed something unkind around her cigarette. Darceline just smiled and wiggled her fingers in a friendly wave. To Kevin, she said, “Still got those tiki torches?”
“I got 14 ;)” he replied. She looked back at Christine, who had raised her bird fingers over her head triumphantly—never mind that the light had changed.
“I need to deliver a message…can you guys meet me at the school tonight?”
“Heil Hitler :)” said Kevin.
Sequels
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (1 so far!)
Inspired by (sequel to):
“Hey, you going on Friday?”
Darceline finished replying to the message on her phone and looked up. …
Deprioritizing Friendship- Published 7 years ago and featured 7 years ago.
- Story viewed 11 times and rated 0 times.
All stories on Ficlatté are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 License. What does this mean?
ElshaHawk LoA
Now I'm not sure who Darceline is, the good one, or just whom Christine claims she is.