This is the 84th in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.
Unrequited, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 14th February 2013
Word count: 751
The story:
“This is such bullshit,” the man said throwing his arms in the air in frustration.
“Be that as it may, you’re still not allowed in. I have my instructions,” the man on security said.
“Come on,” the man said, getting angrier, “Look I have my invitation right here.”
“I have instructions,” the security man repeated unmoved by the man’s frustration.
“Fuck,” the man said, turning away. The security guard was easily six foot four, and well built, and he looked hard. Charging him wouldn’t help anything. The man walked back to the car and climbed in the passenger seat.
“Not go as planned Pete?” Sarah, the woman sat in the driver seat asked.
“Apparently someone warned the security guy not to let me in,” the man named Pete said, with a sigh.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have posted you were going to crash a wedding in a grand romantic gesture on Facebook,” Sarah said pulling away.
“It was my last chance,” Pete said, “And I didn’t say I was going to crash the wedding on Facebook.”
“No, just that you were going to tell man you loved how you felt before he made a mistake on the biggest day of his life, or something like that,” Sarah said heading on to the motorway.
“Where we going?” Pete asked realising for first time that they were driving somewhere.
“We’re off back to town, you need a drink,” Sarah said. “Hell I need a drink.”
“What I need is to tell him how I’ve felt all this time, and that I was a fool,” Pete said morosely.
“No you don’t, haven’t you worked it out yet?”
“Worked what out?” he asked.
“You haven’t loved her for a long time, you’re just addicted to loving her,” Sarah said pulling off the motorway, “You don’t need him. You need to open your eyes.”
The car pulled into the car park of a bar.
“I have no idea what you mean,” the peak in his interest was pushing his grief back for a moment.
They went inside the bar and got drinks, finding a table near the back in a secluded spot.
“What did you mean in the car park?” he asked.
“What I meant was,” she took a sip of her wine to buy herself some time, “What I meant was there’s been someone right in front of your eyes, for a long time.”
“Uh,” Pete said and then it dawned on him what his friend had said, “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Sarah said sipping her wine again.
“Erm,” Pete struggled for words, “Sarah…”
“I’m only saying this because I think you’re blind, a blind fool Peter,” Sarah said, “He never treated you right, yet you pined after him these past five years.”
“It’s not like that,” Pete protested.
“It is like that, just take a step back and look at it all. I’ve done my best to support you and help you, but the best thing I can do for you now is tell you the truth,” Sarah said.
Pete took a deep breath, “You might be right,” he said finally.
Sarah let out a deep breath of her own that she’d been barely aware she was holding since she finished speaking.
“I guess I just didn’t want to let go of him,” Pete said.
“It’s time you should, and look to the future,” Sarah said hopefully.
“Yeah,” he took a moment, “But there’s something you should know, about how I feel about you,” he said nervously.
“Yes?” she asked, trying to keep her excitement from brimming over.
“I don’t think of you like that. You’re my best friend, practically my sister, and I’m gay, very gay. I don’t think of any woman like that.”
“Oh,” she said deflating. In that moment, she was painfully aware of how she’d been doing the exact same thing Peter had these past few years, and suddenly she felt about six inches tall, and yet a humongous idiot at the same time. “I should get going,” she started gathering up her things.
“Please don’t,” Pete said, “I need you, you’re the only one that’s been there for me. I just…”
“Oh please Pete, I’m not giving up on our friendship. I just need some time. I’ll call you,” she said more sternly as she meant. She didn’t know how to take it back though, she set off out of the bar. Leaving Pete to sink back into his chair, succumbing to the shock, and the roller coaster emotions of the day.
Aspiring 