Blogging from A to Z Challenge
April 2016
This month I will be participating in the “Blogging from A-Z Challenge”
What is it?
Blogging every day. It begins on April First with a topic themed on something with the letter A, then on April second another topic with the letter B as the theme, and so on until I finish on April thirtieth with the theme based on the letter Z. The theme of the day is the letter scheduled for that day.
This is a fictional piece.
The Hill
Harry and I were best buds. We always sat next to each other on the bus. We'd take turns at the window seat. When the bus came to his stop, he'd get up, give my shoulder a punch and say "Goin' up the hill later?" It was a rhetorical question.
"Goin up the hill" was the route we took to get to the park which was at the bottom of Hillside Drive. So technically, I guess, we could have just as easily referred to it as "goin' down the hill". I suppose after a few years, we had shortened "Let's meet at the Hillside Drive park" to "goin' up the hill".
Anyway, we spent hours at the park, doing nothing and just messing around.
That's what I would answer when my mom would ask, "What do you and Harry do at the park."
"Nothin', Ma. Just mess around."
Sometimes we'd toss around a football, have a game of catch with a baseball or shoot hoops at the hoopless rims.
We snuck our first cigarette behind the cement block building, where the bathrooms were.
When Harry took the first drag, he coughed so hard that he nearly puked. I had second thoughts after seeing him and tried to back out. But Harry wouldn't hear of it.
"No way, dude, your turn," he choked out the words as he reached the cigarette out to me.
We had many firsts "up the hill".
Harry was about three inches taller than me and slightly built. He had thick, dark, unruly hair, which he usually hid under a baseball cap. His eyes were even darker than his hair.
Harry was outgoing and friendly. I was shy and introverted.
I wasn't Harry's only friend, although he was mine.
On weekends or during school holidays, he'd ask me to go to the movies or the mall with him and a bunch of other guys. Sometimes he'd invite me to go to a Sunday church picnic.
I'd say, "Nah, I can't. I have to help my dad."
It was my go-to excuse. I was content with our time together, just him and me, messin' around "up the hill".
Our friendship lasted like that all through Elementary school and even Junior high.
Things changed the summer before we got into high school. Harry got a job as a junior counselor at an away camp,
I worked at my Dad's Hardware store.
I still went "up the hill" every once-in-awhile, but of course, it wasn't the same without Harry.
My first day of high school was one I will never forget. I was typically nervous about going to a new school, but I was especially stressed because it was, after all, Hillside High.
I was excited with anticipation to see Harry. We had talked on the phone a few times but had not seen each other all summer. I felt the butterflies would calm down once I saw my buddy.
The bus pulled up. I was first in line. I climbed the steps, nodded at the driver and began to walk towards "our" seat. Harry spotted me, waved, and called out to me.
I couldn't help myself, my mouth just started to grin, without my permission, I might add. I waved and yelled, "Harry!" Again my voice apparently taking over my normally reserved being.
But, as I approached the seat, I saw that someone else was sitting there. A blond girl. A very pretty blond girl. A very tall, pretty, blond girl with the bluest of eyes.
"Hannah, this is Trish," Harry said.
