The Day The Music Died – Chapter 1


“You know I’m not supposed to talk to you right?” I sighed.

“Well yeah but imagine the look on your mother’s face when we stroll down the hall wearing wedding attires, like it’s our wedding” Tate laughed, weaving his fingers through his dark brown, curly hair.

His body rolled over the dusty ground as he found himself settled in a more comfortable position. One that was facing me.

“Yeah imagine our condition later on” I said “She’ll barbeque us, I swear”

“I don’t know, I think you’d be pretty tasty barbequed” he smirked

“Shut up, you know what I mean” I slapped his shoulder “I won’t be able to meet you even a little then”

“Ally, relax, I’m just joking” he shook his head “Why you always so uptight?”

“Fuck you” I laughed “Sometimes you do dumb things okay?”

“Well, I’m not gonna argue there” he got to his knees and hurled his body on mine, pushing me to the ground.

Me being a somewhat chubby yet small fourteen year old, tried my best to battle the five feet five, quite unsuccessfully. He used his tight biceps to pin my arms on either side of me.

“Tate!” I yelled “Not fair, you’re twice my size!”

“And you’re twice my width” he said jokingly.

“Fuck off” I said in an angry tone.

“Okay, okay” he sighed as his body loomed over me “Not cool, I’m sorry mahn. No fat jokes”

“Yeah” I said, still struggling from the string grip.

“Here let me make it up to you” he smiled and stooped down to kiss me.

His broad and my thin lips touched, his grip on my wrists loosened, the breeze swept my short, curly black hair from one side to the other.

As good as the kiss made me feel, I knew I had to stop it. I used my freed hands to push his face away.

“You said we wouldn’t do that as much” I sat up straight, staring into his light brown eyes.

“Yeah, but I just thought-“

“No Tate, just don’t. It’s not right”

“Well sometimes it’s not what’s right and wrong. Sometimes you should just do what makes you feel good”

“Yeah, that’s why we have pedophiles in this world”

He remained silent for a minute

“Do you really not love me?”

I inched closer to him and put my hands on his face “I do, but not the way you want me to. We’ve known each other since when we were born. I love you like a brother”

I kissed his forehead gently.

“I just got brozoned so hard, people could use me as a meme” he facepalmed.

“Only if they get to know” I winked.

“Come here” he pulled me into a hug.

I giggled as I lay down on his lap and felt his warmth.

“What would I ever do without you?” I smiled.

“Crash and burn” he replied, smothering me with kisses.

“Don’t quote Supernatural”

“Fine” he sucked his teeth “Cry and die”

“My, become a poet why don’t you” I mocked.

He scoffed, “Yeah, that’d be something. The half Paki, half Nepali kid decides to become a poet. Imagine the crowd I’d attract”

“Well real poetry lovers would ignore your background and just look at your words”

“Yeah I guess” he sighed “I’d cry and die without you to, you know. Even if you aren’t my girlfriend”

“Hmmm” I hummed.

“You won’t leave me right? Even if you, by some miracle get someone to fall in love with you, you won’t forget me right? We’d still tell each other every shit thing that happens to us right?”

“Of course not, Tate. I don’t think I could be that open with anyone else mahn” I made myself comfortable on his lap “Now shut up, enough emotions, lemme sleep”

“Okay, fine” he smiled, as he played with my hair, trying to straighten out my curls.

“You sleep, while I poetry” he whispered.

“Yes, something better than cry and die please”

And with that, I shut my eyes, as the last rays of the setting sun layered my face, the bustling sounds of the small city of Calcutta fading out slowly, the faint aroma given off by Tate drifting me to sleep

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