LJ Idol LPF Week 9

[encrefloue]

Topic: Sucker Punch

 

Merriam-Webster defines “change” as…

“HA! You owe me twenty bucks, Lisa!”

“Oh my god, you are y e l l i n g. Also, fuck you.”

“Only when we’re full-blown sex workers living the millennial American dream.”

“Okay, one: ew. Two: shut up and listen to Billy.”

“But he seriously just pulled the cardinal sin of graduation speeches.”

“Yeah, Maisie. I know. I lost the bet!”

“I mean can you believe--”

“SHHHHHHHHH!”

“Fuck off, Gavin.” The girls intoned unanimously, their huffish timbres quickly cropped by a surge of snorts and giggles, abdomens and tracheas contracting madly to suppress the threat of full-on belly-bursting laughter. The faces the poor boy had flashed them before and after being resoundingly blown off were too theatrical, too bombastic, just too much for the two critics who, for the past forty-five minutes, had been *low-key* roasting the hell out of the pomp in this circumstance, this final, overly important ritual of high school. Oh, Gavin. Always good for a punching bag. His typically pasty face had become flush, blood suffusing the pores with rich tones of anger and embarrassment, embouchure pulling the fat of his baby face ground-ward in a sullen scowl. And then with the graduation cap on top? A priceless image neither girl would ever forget. An indignant lobster being boiled alive, the pot lid a hefty top hat, one might say. Gavin unceremoniously spun back in his chair, literally putting the hecklers behind him, vowing to himself that they would live to rue this day when, at the ten year reunion, they would see just what kind of man they had belittled.

Despite the disgraceful exchange, his intent was fulfilled. After coming down from the high of their snicker-fit, Maisie and Lisa de-escalated, settling in to the oratorical cadence of the boy at the podium—Billy, their third musketeer, the conspicuously coiffed and absent element of their triumvirate.

“I mean, I told him I would help him with the speech. You know it’s not his thing”, Maisie muttered. Lisa silently dropped her head a notch, a tacit affirmation as she kept her eyes fixed on the raven-haired boy they had taken under their collective, nurturing wings in freshman year. Lisa noted how far Billy had come since then.

...and as I look on your faces, my fellow classmates of 2019, I know that you are the change the world wishes to see...   

“Hey, co-opting Gandhi. Despite the dictionary *don’t*, he isn’t doing too badly.”

“...yeah. I’m going to miss him. I’m going to miss us.”

“...”

“...but no way in hell am I going to miss high school.”

“...heh.”

Now, more than ever, we have to show the world that we will change things. We truly have the power to shape the future.

As Billy’s words permeated the arena filled with thousands—family, classmates, faculty, staff—a recent memory wafted through Maisie’s thoughts. The three of them, the triumvirate, sprawled in a drunken tangle on Janet Horne’s living room floor, the heady pulse of Ariana Grande’s “God is a Woman” reverberating through the chatter and the mingling bodies at the not-so-PG-13 cast party for the spring production of “Into the Woods.” As they laid there, entwined, laughing at everything and nothing, skin sticking with dried sweat, eyes crinkling with mirth and stage makeup, bellies full of brownies, Cheetos, and more rum than coke, Maisie felt like this was what it meant to exist. She looked at Lisa, her confidant, her number one, her bestie. She looked at Billy, their adoptee, their little baby bird who had just flown on his own wings—as Jack, he had transformed that evening: his voice, his being had soared up the beanstalk, encountering unseen giants shrouded in unknown horizons. Lisa and Billy were gazing up at the ceiling, but all Maisie could see was them. She wondered if this was what love was, and if it was possible to feel it for them both. Despite the questions, the fear, it might have been the truest thing she had ever felt.

Maisie was disconnected from her memory with the roar of her graduating class cheering Billy on.

...and we will show this administration that we are the ones who decide where this country goes!

More deafening applause and cheers, as Maisie zeroed back in on Billy, her heart leaping with pride and exhilaration.

We will not sit idly by after Parkland!

The arena could not control the decibels gushing from under its roof.

Our silence will speak infinitely louder than their actions did! Our silence will be the voice of change in this world!

And indeed, there was silence for a moment as the words seemed to lose the crowd, though the quiet was soon to be supplanted by a building influx of gasping lungs, then a crescendo of shrieks, as Billy pulled an AK-47 out from beneath the podium.

Comments

[tonithegreat]

Oh man, you didn’t! But you did. Nice amount of characterization to get us thinking one way about where you might be going and then abruptly, boom! Completely different sucker punch delivered. This was great.

[bellatrix_lestrange]

I was wondering if this was going that way - I was actually wondering if it was going to be Gavin doing it - and yet you still made me feel that dread right there at the end. This was fantastic and one of my favourites this week.

[murielle]

Ouch! You got me. I did not see that coming. Not. At. All.

You built to that moment very well. Introducing us to each character and distracting us with Maisie's thoughts.

Well, done! :-)

[bleodswean]

Yikes! You def sucker punched this reader! Loved the buildup!

[tatdatcm]

Beyond the stunning conclusion of the story, your word choices are astounding. The descriptions are so very unusual, yet so absolutely perfect.