Hi everyone! Polkahotness back at it again with the fanfic writing and this time with a coming of age story with everybody's favorite klutz, Eugene! So read on and let me know what you think! Hope you enjoy!
All my life I'd always known I'd be a performer. Since before I can remember, life was always a gigantic musical just waiting for my next solo, even if I skipped a note here and there. All things aside, I've always had a happy life. I have parents who support me and, even if they are a tad paranoid of my 'klutzier' side, have never stopped coming to anything I've ever been a part of- no matter how small the role.
The only other person in my life as incredible as my parents would be Sheena, of course.
Sheena and I have lived our entire lives together since our parents became friends from across the hall at their apartment complex. Sheena was the ying to my yang, the peanut butter to my jelly and the best to my friend. Even when our families moved to homes more than a block from each other we practically lived at the others' house.
All was the same throughout most of elementary school until the sixth grade. Sheena began acting…different around me; even more so attached than we'd ever been which was fine for me. In my opinion, there was never enough time for extra friend time and if that's what Sheena needed or wanted, I was happy to provide my best-friend-services.
Yet years later, even at 14 Sheena hasn't quite kicked the habit. I assumed most of it was because of her father's passing just a couple years back, but even so it was odd for Sheena to suddenly pay so much attention to me; carrying my books so I wouldn't trip on my shoes, opening doors for me so I wouldn't stub my toes and even watching what I threw away at lunch to be sure I didn't toss my retainer like I had in the 7th grade when we had to dig through the dumpster just to retrieve it.
Sheena was still the butter to my bread and the peas to my carrots, but it never occurred to me just what she was up to until that day in Ms. Otterman's English class.
"Are you ready to go to, Eugene?" Sheena asked from beside my locker where she usually met me after lunch break, fourth period. Seeing as we had mostly the same schedule after that, we figured it was much more fun to walk with each other than separately on our way to classes together; our next one being fifth period English.
"Y-yea, yes, of course, Sheena. Just let me grab my book here and we-" but as fate would have it, the textbook came crashing down to smack me directly on my right foot; only causing me to leap up on one foot and hop slightly to remain balanced.
"Oh my gosh, Eugene!" Sheena screeched in her high-pitched tone, though I only smiled at her and shrugged.
"I'm okay, don't worry." With a solid shaking of my foot to regain some feeling back, I reached down to pick up his heavy textbook and offered my now-worried best friend a warm smile. "I'm all ready if you're ready," I announced with my free fist firmly planted on my hip awaiting Sheena to link arms with me, per usual; a new tradition Sheena had begun last semester that I found to be flattering and yet somehow….uncomfortable.
But Sheena was my best friend and I couldn't say no to making her day just even the slightest bit brighter and it seemed that linking arms in our announcement to the world of our friendship did just that.
If Sheena was down, than so was I, I'd decided.
And it seemed these days that Sheena always was.
As much as I loved communication, I found English to be a bit dull, only because I much preferred choir and drama class over the subject. My only home was that of the stage and it flowed through my veins like, well, blood.
The stage offered me solace in a way that words and reading never could, and as great of hobbies as they were for some people, they just weren't for me. Acting and singing were usually my downfall in such classes as English only because of presentations. A singing number here, a monologue there, throw in a few facts and the presentation was completely over with; an A looking me in the face at the end.
It was just so much easier to be somebody else in performance mode than to be my complete self up there, what with what half the school already said about the real me.
Hey, did you hear that Eugene is gay?
I heard Eugene bats for the same team, if you catch my drift.
That Eugene and his gay routines. It's no wonder he's such a drama queen all the time.
Gay— the ever-longing suspicion that had followed me since mid-sixth grade –it wasn't a term I was all that fond of hearing every day. Sure, I spent most of my time with Sheena and other females and sure I loved a good showtune here and there with a few dance steps in sync and all, but what theater kid didn't? It certainly didn't make me gay, did it? It made me a performer and that was one thing I knew I was.
I was sure of it.
Mostly sure of it, that is.
No, totally sure about it. Positive.
Not that it bothered me anyway; not all that much that is. I was pretty used to being called such things, sometimes even worse coming from the mouths of Harold or Helga.
Either way, English didn't hold much for me besides all the performances I was able to pull off. I only feared for the day I wasn't able to pull such a presentation off and was left with all I had next to offer: myself.
"Alright girls and boys," Ms. Otterman said as she began to pass out packets nearly 12 pages long and neatly stapled together in true Ms. Otterman fashion, "let's go ahead and partner yourselves off for our next poetry unit assignment, shall we?"
"Oh, boy! Did you hear that Eugene?" Sheena asked in a stage whisper from diagonally behind of where I was seated. "We get to choose our own partners today. Buddies?" she asked again and with a grin, I agreed.
After all, who better to team up with than my partner in not-so-much crime, Sheena? It isn't like there was anybody else more suited to partner up with me than my practical sister from another mister.
"Of course, Sheena," I whispered back which only made her giggle and gave me the sneaky feeling as though something was missing; something even my seemingly perfect partnership with my best friend couldn't fix.
Much like my music and dancing was an extension of myself, so was my room. Lined with posters of all the best musicals, musical icons, various playbills and backstage photos from nearly every performance I've ever done, my room was the room only anyone could imagine for myself.
Of course Sheena was used to it all and had never questioned my choice in Barbra Streisand music we usually played to help us concentrate when working together. If anything, she was the first to suggest music, Barbra or not, and I was always happy to oblige.
It wasn't like I didn't have most everything that had ever graced Broadway's holy stage.
Back in the day, before the entire friend-group of the neighborhood dissipated with puberty and foolish young love, my room was the only place we could go that would help us survive even the most random of life events; Sheena's father passing away, my mishap with my full body cast due to a crazy fall down my steps with a sleeping bag over my head, and even the time we both got lost from our school trip only to find everyone already on the bus and had to walk ourselves home to this very room. My space had always been our own little hideaway from life and while the world continues to spin just outside my door, it was inside that we both could really be ourselves and put it all out on the table.
"Okay Eugene," Sheena squeaked while flipping over the next page in the packet to begin reading aloud. "You and your partner(s) will write a poem each-" something I was already breaking down into a dance number inside my own head "-then share them with each other and analyze them on the following criteria: creativity…"
I found myself losing interest in Sheena's breakdown of the assignment and instead began to focus on the way she read each word in her high soprano voice as if it were dancing through the air to enter my ear like it had done so many other times before and yet somehow today, she sounded…different. There was an extra pep to her step as if she were planning a surprise like the birthday party she threw for me 2 years back that sent me to the ER after a wicked asthma attack.
No matter what her motives were this time around, I found that I couldn't stop focusing on what it could be that was making Sheena act so differently around me. I thought I knew everything there was to know about my best friend as if she were the back of my very own hand.
"Eugene?" She asked again and with a shake of my head, I returned to reality and looked at her with a smile.
"I'm sorry, Sheena, what did you say again?"
"I asked if you had any thoughts about what kind of poem you were going to write for our project," she responded almost concerned as though I'd somehow missed an important point she'd read and it was as if the way her brows scrunched together so tightly, I'd offended her in a way I know I'd never done before.
"N-no, no I haven't. What about a limerick? Can it be any kind of poem?" I asked while reaching for my tired English notebook and a pen to take notes with.
"Did you hear what I read, Eugene?" She asked, somewhat hurt. "We're doing the poems in free verse."
Oh boy, the red-haired young adult thought to himself.
Free verse, while a gorgeous cacophony of words when done correctly, had never been one of my strong suits. The only way I'd been making my way through their 8th grade poetry unit was on rhyme, song, and secret dance which was something free verse didn't allow me to do as a 'cheat.'
When there's no rhyming, there's no timing, my brain came up with and I scrunched up my own brows up into a tight orange squiggle across my forehead. "What were you doing yours on?"
"Well," she began while glancing down at the packet and flipping the page once more, "I was uh, I was sort of thinking about doing a uh, well, a love poem."
Love?
"Love poem?" I repeated while sitting a bit straighter up than I had been previously sitting; my back muscles straining to sit tall on my bed, "Not on the environmental society that's been ignored since-" I began to reiterate like Sheena had done on many an occasion, but I was quickly cut off by her squeaking, shaky voice.
"I just thought it would be nice to do something different than I'm used to, I guess," she said hesitantly.
"Not because you're in love with somebody?" I pushed further, though it only added blush to Sheena's cheeks; something that didn't usually happen when Sheena and I were together.
What is she hiding from me? I begged myself; searching my skull for any sort of answer that could alleviate the struggle Sheena was putting me in with her apparent secret.
Sheena rolled her computer chair closer to me and offered up a sheepish grin. "Not so much of the word, maybe, but…" it was then that Sheena leaned into me to plant a small peck on my stunned lips. "Maybe it's time I thought about something, or somebody, else."
I sat frozen in my spot as she stared at me expectantly. What was I to say? What was I to do? What if it were ME that she had the crush on?
Oh no, I suddenly decided, a facial expression of concern probably coating my face directly in front of hers, what if her love poem…is for ME?
After staring for a moment, in panic almost, Sheena began to collect her things; something she never did with me around. Then again, Sheena had never kissed me before and that was, well, that was…different, that's all.
Different, I repeated in my head, though the word didn't feel like it fit the situation at hand.
"See you tomorrow for the reading?" She asked quickly and with a few nods of my spinning head, though she didn't seem to notice much, she smiled nonetheless, a big smile, and then retreated from our haven to leave me with the rest of the thoughts dancing in time inside my now baffled brain.
I knew what it was I had to write about, I just didn't want to have to try or even say it out loud.
I was going to write a love poem…or rather, a lack of love poem.
And it just might break Sheena's heart.
Late night tree climbing wasn't only something I wasn't allowed to do via my parent's call, but also as a rule of thumb. I'd been known to get stuck in trees plenty of times and while the fire department wasn't exactly used to my calls, they were certainly ready when the moment struck; usually sending Will Sherman, their kindest and youngest at only 25, to my rescue. After all, it wasn't like Hillwood often had fires to put out and more had the needs of lost cats, caught toes in tubs and stuck Eugenes left smiling in trees
Today, however, was an exception to my rule and with as much silence as I could muster, I did the unthinkable— I snuck out.
Up there in the park tree, the height offered me some much-needed thought-time which I used to be able to look down at the world below in silent contemplation; something that was much needed after the events of the day.
And the events only continued.
As I shakily climbed the tree I'd been stuck in far too many times to count, each branch I used to pull myself up further gave me a strange sense of an adrenaline rush pumping through the my bloodstream, allowing me to reach higher into the park's tree than I'd ever been before- even higher than the day I managed to get both Harold and Arnold stuck up there with me.
But I didn't care. I knew I'd be alright and not just because I always am. I knew the cellphone in my pocket would save me when the time was right, and, within the blink of an eye, Will would be ready with his cherry picker to help me down yet again as he usually had since he first joined the department only a few years ago.
That didn't matter much, though. Seeing Will on a semi-weekly basis had become sort of a tradition for the two, whether Will saw it as that though was still to be determined, but it was a tradition nonetheless. Most everybody at the fire department knew me already, but it was Will who never made me feel like the klutz even I knew I most certainly was. Knowing that Will would be the one to save me, yet again, somehow made my stomach kick itself repeatedly and even when I reached my ultimate destination in the branches, to no avail, my stomach seemed to flipflop repeatedly inside of me just knowing the eventual outcome.
But today wasn't about Will, I told myself, today was about figuring out how to tell Sheena the hardest thing I'd ever told her in our entire friendship together; that their friendship was only and ever would be just that- a friendship.
"ddBut how to do it," I muttered to himself while swinging my feet to and fro from the empty space beneath me, just below my bench-of-a-branch.
For nearly an hour I sat up in that tree watching the sunset and thinking up poorly written poetry still flitting about like restless birds inside my wracked and confused skull.
Maybe, I pondered with a purse of my lips in concentration, maybe if I write a friendship poem she might take the hint. Maybe with some jazz flares and a good line or two, it doesn't have to feel like a rejection.
See, Sheena and I have been through everything together, well, most things. This, however, if I was correct, was an entirely different story. Nobody had ever had a crush on me before and to be really honest, I didn't think I'd even had a crush before in my entire life. Everything around me was new territory and it made this whole poem writing only all the more different and completely impossible.
Friendships are like trees
With branches long and never ending
Except for when they end
Then the friendship—
No, no, no, I thought, it has to be so much better than that, Eugene. You don't want to cut her off completely. My eyes suddenly widened. Oh no, I suddenly said to myself in the inner workings of now paranoid thoughts, branches DO end and what if, with my luck…
The thoughts were overwhelming and my safe space from the trees was beginning to look more and more like bleak opportunities I'd surely mess up.
No, Eugene, I strongly told myself, though my voice inside my head still sounded unsure. You can do this. It's only a poem and you are a creative, smart, and kind person who can get this right without destroying your friendship like these branches keep making you think you will. Your friendship is stronger than that. Your friendship is stronger than some little crush.
I glanced down at where I'd come from and began to pull out my phone from my pocket to place my 'please help me, it's Eugene and I'm stuck in a tree' call to the Sherriff's office, where they usually sent my call over directly over to the fire station.
I mean, it is, isn't it? We've been through so much together maybe she's confusing our friendship for a crush, that's it, I continued to think in a flurry of thoughts as I dialed the number saved in my phone. But as my luck would have it, the moment I pressed call, the phone slipped from my fingers as if a mouse were escaping my freckled hands and as much as I fumbled, nothing could stop it from heralding down through the tree branches to land onto the plush grass beneath me; freshly cut from this morning.
"Oh no, oh gosh, oh crap," I said aloud as I stared at the phone staring up at me as the call continued. Panicked, I began to yell from where I was in hopes they could hear me and send Will to come save me yet again.
"Hello?!" I hollered from up in the treetops. "Hello? Can anyone hear me?" Starting to worry but still sure somebody could hear me, I yelled louder out while leaning away from the tree towards my downward call. "It's Eugene. Eugene Horowitz. I'm uh… I'm stuck in a tree! … Again…" I added shamefully, now feeling the loss of all adrenaline that had once propelled me up so high in the first place.
"Eugene?" A voice called out from beyond the tree and dumbfoundedly, I stared wide eyed at my phone below.
"You can hear me?" I asked what I assumed was the receptionist, though a surprising figure came into light just where my phone lay helpless underneath me.
"Probably not your phone," Will said while reaching down to pick up my now lost call, "but I could hear ya, Eugene. Stuck in the tree again, I see?"
Blush began to fill in my freckled cheeks, and I nodded my head a couple of times; my eyes fixated on that of Will with his yellow lab Fritzel on the leash he was holding onto. "Heh heh, yeah, sort of. You're off duty tonight then?"
Will shifted between his two feet as Fritzel stared up at me in my branched prison. "Just got off, actually, but, seeing as you're stuck up there and all," he began before I tried to stop him from his next statement.
"No, no, before you finish, I want you to know I'm…I'm quite happy up here."
"Really," Will stated with a cock of his brow. "You're perfectly fine up in the tree at 8pm."
"Yep. Totally fine. Positive. I'll get myself down when I'm ready." I responded trying to sound confident though Will saw right through me.
With ease, he bent down to pick up my phone from the ground and wiggled it in his hand for me to see up in the tree; a grin covering his tanned face. "And calling us was your plan for getting down now, wasn't it, Eugene?"
I sighed, knowing my jig was up. I could sing and dance my way through almost anything but when it came to lying, it was something that I was just not good enough at. "Um," I started while chewing on my lower lip and swinging my feet back and forth in nervousness, "yeah-yeah. That was sort of my plan, but, but I'll be okay. I climbed up here, didn't I?"
"Eugene, we both know you can't climb down without falling and breaking something like a few months ago."
Not true, I wanted to counter back, but even my scurried thoughts knew that would also be a lie as I was only still recovering from the arm break that nearly kept me out of school had it not been for Sheena's double note-taking skills.
But before I could answer, Will had already turned around and was walking away.
"Will? Where-where are you going?"
"To get the cherry picker, of course," he answered from over his shoulder; Fritzel running further ahead of him on the leash as if to lead the way.
To get the cherry picker, of course, his words rang in my ears and a smile spread across my face as I sat content in the tree.
Will was coming back for me and for some reason, my heart couldn't stop it's excited dance inside my chest as I waited for him to save me yet again.
Hope you all liked this chapter for there is more to come! (this will probably amount to an either twoshot or threeshot) and I can't wait to read your reviews! Please send me one and let me know what you think!
-Polka