Felicity Fanfiction CH 9 Writing Commish
Felicity Fanfiction Commission CH 9 Megan:Out on the streets, cars and vans fight the taxi cabs for space on the curb. The early-summer sun reflects off chrome bumpers and dives into shadows between the high-rise buildings while hundreds of students, parents, and families swarm the sidewalks, balancing boxes, books, and bags at their own risk. It’s the end of the semester, and the school year at the University of New York has come to an end. I’m sitting on the arm of a bench, watching dorm students drop boxes, and bags full of clothes and hangers that burst onto the gum and cigarette littered sidewalk. I squirm and pull at the tight collar of my flowery dress. My parents will be here soon to take me away to our boring and quite plain hometown. A man walks over and sits next to me on the bench. He claps his knees and sucks in a big breath of the air as if New York City smelled like flowers. It’s Sean, Ben’s roommate. “What are you doing here?” I ask him. He turns to me and smiles. “Just enjoying the sight—the hubbub—the activity,” Sean says. “Aren’t moving days great?”I slide down to sit next to him on the bench. I don’t want to admit that his excitement is infectious. “I guess. I like the chaos,” I say. I shrug and turn towards a student trying to fit their unrolled science presentation into a car. It crinkles and bends, some glued-on note cards flutter off into the gutter. “Exactly. I knew you would say that. Don’t you think there are much better ways to pack than flimsy boxes and old bags? The possibilities are endless,” Sean exclaims. “I don’t want to try another of your whack-inventions,” I say. “But this one even you would use. I’ll think of something to change your mind.” “Uh-huh.” We sit in silence for a little while. Sean gasps and murmurs as if he is watching a sports game when something goes wrong among the many movers. I check my watch, paranoid, for my parent’s arrival. “It’s nice to have some light during these dark days,” Sean says. “What?” “Did you hear about Ben and Julie?” I snort. “Of course—do you think Felicity would let me get out of any vent sessions? Sometimes I wish she would just focus on brushing her hair in the morning and stop telling me everything. Lord knows she needs to handle whatever her hair is doing.” Sean laughs, “Right, but I’m really worried about both of them.” “Was it that swimmer’s girl-slut again?” I ask. “Nicole?” “Sure.” “Yeah, she snuck up on Ben right when Julie appeared,” Sean explains. “He’s lost his mind over it. He’s still up in the loft, drinking and unpacked. Heck, I might have to drive him all the way to California myself at this rate.” “Yeesh,” I mutter. To make matters worse, Julie has been sleeping in Felicity, and I’s room. Another obstacle to my morning. “How’s Julie doing? I miss her,” Sean asks.“I heard she’s spending the summer here with Elena. They’ll be renting a spare dorm. She’s alright, sad, but whatever.” “I miss her,” Sean says. He looks at his feet and frowns. “Wait, why are you letting me actually talk to you?” he asks. I shrug. “You mentioned ‘dark days.’ It’s kinda my thing,” I say. “Ah, of course. Well, dark days or not—have a good summer?” “I guess. You too—don’t get too wild.” “See you next year Megan,” Sean answers. I stand up and tell him I see my parents. “Yeah, bye,” I say before leaving, my chest a little warm. It must be the damn dress. I can hardly breathe with all this fabric. Julie: No wind comes in from the open dorm window. A collection of old fans crik-crik-crik as they push warm air around the room—beads of sweat dot my forehead and drip to pool on my chest. My stray hairs are glued to my face and neck with the sweat, crowding me with heat as I lay on my back, sprawled on the floor of Elena and I’s summer dorm. My shirt is rolled up to my chest to leave my stomach exposed. A growing bump extends, stretching the skin between my ribs and sore hips into something that surprises me every time I look down. Every time I curl up in sleep and my legs or arms brush my stomach, I flinch with dread dripping down my back like a cold rain. But, in the heat, I just lay here waiting for the afternoon to fade and the sun to set before I try to move in the mid-July heat. Above my head, sticky notes, and cards, I’ve taped to the wall flutter in the fan’s breath. I pick one off and hold it above me to read the worn writing. Dearest Julie, I hope this card finds you well—How I wish I were with you! Noel spends much of his day at his program, leaving me to figure out to say hello in a city that has too many languages and not enough German to navigate. We are doing well. Berlin feels a lot like New York, except, there is an obvious weight of history on every building, sidewalk, and statue. All the neighborhoods fit together like puzzles, each street varying from the last. The fashion is louder here as well, lots of counterculture and painted eyebrows. You would love it.All my love, Felicity P.S. Noel says if the baby is a girl and not a boy, you can call her Noel as in Christmas Noel to be named after him. He thinks it’s a perfect idea. I don’t like his idea of “Felix” too much!The front of the postcard is a picture of the Berlin State Opera, a massive pink building with classical columns and a carved pediment. Carefully, I sit up and tape it back onto the wall with the collage of weekly postcards from Both Felicity and Noel for Elena and I. Peeling stamps and slashes of ink from the post office cover each corner, adding to their bent corners and smudged writing that I’ve read over and over again. I imagine Felicity writing them diligently and privately just as she records her spoken letters to her friend, Sally. I wonder if she is able to continue her tapes from overseas. What I would do to hear her voice. Taped beside the postcards are some of Sean’s notes. My chest burns each time I see these. Elena tells me I’m torturing myself with them, but the little notes remind me of the mistake I made, but they are also an attempt to let go of my anger to not hate Ben for what he did to me. But I can’t find myself on either side of that thought. One day I hope to look at the notes without any pain. I’ve been successful so far. One note reads, To my greatest gal and my straight-faced roommate. Make sure he smiles lots today, okay Julie? --Sean Another, Julie! Julie, Julie bo-bu-lie, bo-na-na fanna, fo-fu-lie, mo-mu-lie, Julie! Your name is more fun than “Ben.” Bo-ben? Fo-fen? Nah. --SeanAnd so on. Ben drove back to California for the summer, and I am here in New York, pregnant. The dorm door creaks open, and Elena comes back from her research internship. “Oh-mah-gawd—it is so hot out there—and here!” she exclaims. Elena drops her book bag on the ground and immediately undresses from her business skirt and blouse. “This should be criminal,” she mutters, rolling down and kicking off her skirt. “Julie? Julie, come on—are you reading those again?” she asks. I shake my head and lean against the foot of my bed. “No.” “Julie-bo-bu-lie?” she asks with a teasing smile. I stretch my legs out, and I feel too warm. “I guess,” I answer. “How was work?” “The usual. My co-worker came in hungover again. How can someone drink in this heat? Crazy. I saw Sean. He was poking around the library around lunchtime.” “How is he?” I ask. “Alright, misses you, etc. I said you were very busy with work,” Elena answers. “I told him he should call you to chat sometime.” Elena pulls on a little sundress and sits right in front of a fan. She leans back and lets the air rush over her. “How are you feeling?” she shouts over the running whir of the fan. “I’m fine today. I wasn’t too sick this morning,” I answer. “But it sucks. It’s too hot to eat, and I’m starved,” I moan. “That’s what happens, girl,” Elena says. She lays on her back and looks at me from across the floor. I scoot over to sit next to her. “Did you call the doctor today?” “No, they said they’d call me for the next check-up. They keep asking about my guardians, though. It’s getting difficult.” I pull my shirt down. I’ve been self-conscious since I started showing. I haven’t even left our dorm in fear of some summer students seeing me. There is no way to hide a pregnancy in the heat of the summer. I spend the day reading Felicity’s postcards or plucking at my guitar. Elena says when I become too pregnant to hold the guitar, she’ll find me some good books to read. I feel a mixture of dread and laughter at the thought. Overall, the summer heat has a permanent feeling of sickness and misery. Thoughts of Ben still stop me in my tracks and wake me up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. The burn of cried-out dry tears is a permanent feeling behind my eyes. “What will I do when school begins?” I ask. Elena sighs. “Julie, we’ve been over this. We’ve got you. I’ve been searching for student apartments that a few of us can split. That’ll get you out of the dorms and will get you some privacy. Felicity and Noel are down for it too.” “Have you found anything yet?” “I’m still looking. And when August comes, maybe we can hide you with clothes for a little bit. But in the end, everyone will eventually know. There’s this thing called an actual baby coming. Have you called your parents?” “No.” “What about your biological mom?” “I thought about it.” Elena sits up to face me. “I think she might understand. Seeing you like this, she might want to make amends, and she might be able to help.” “She chose to give me away and still refuses to see me. Why would she want any more of me?” I counter. She was too afraid for her marriage to reveal my existence. I had a whole real family here in New York City this entire time, and she won’t accept me.“Maybe she will see it as a second chance, a way to make amends.” “I don’t think so. I don’t want my baby to have a secret grandmother.” “I think it’s worth a try.” “I don’t know,” I whine. Elena brings this up almost every day, and I can hardly keep up with countering her ideas. It makes a little more sense every day, but the idea of hoping again is almost crushing. And any more rejection or examples of a lack of love will undoubtedly smother my will. “We are here for you,” Elena says. “No matter what, you still have us. I think it’s worth a try; you already expect her to want no association with you. So, if nothing happens, nothing happens.”“I don’t want her judgment. I could always think, at least I’m not going to do what she did,” I say. “But you’re not. You’re keeping the baby,” Elena says. “Yeah.” “Then call her. I think you should try it.” Elena gets up and brings our phone over to me. She puts it in my hand. “Go on,” she says....
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