He never brought me home to meet his mother—or, for that matter, anyone in his family. Boys like him don’t end up with girls like me. Everybody knows that. But we chose to ignore the obvious, decided we’d play pretend for a little while. He feigned ignorance about the ones who’d preceded him, bad boys who excelled at games for which he lacked the skill, and I masqueraded as the girl of his dreams, someone with nothing to hide. A relationship built on lies. For a few moments, though, it really felt as if it were the truth.
To the Girl I Used to Be
When the beautiful boy in the tattered baseball hat asks you that simple question, don’t answer. Turn away before you have a chance to lose yourself in his eyes. Don’t entertain the possibility—not even for a second—that he’s capable of being what you want. Walk in the opposite direction. When he calls after you, in a voice more delectable than a dark-chocolate truffle, pretend you don’t hear. Keep going. Move quickly. When he catches up to you, his breath hot in your ear, run. And, whatever you do, don’t turn around.
Things C.J. and I Argued about Last Saturday between Lunch and Dinner
- which is the superior beverage: coffee or tea
- where and when we went on our second date
- how many times we’ve seen Kings of Leon in concert
- who did the dishes last (and whether washing two glasses counts)
- why my favorite team has—or doesn’t have—what it takes to win it all
- what we should do about dinner: heat up last night’s leftovers or order a pizza
- whether we ought to be concerned about how much we’ve been arguing lately
Lori Cramer’s short prose has appeared in Ellipsis Zine, Fictive Dream, Flash: The International Short-Short Story Magazine, Truffle Magazine, Whale Road Review, and elsewhere. Her work has been nominated for Best Microfiction. Links to her writing can be found at https://loricramerfiction.