Thirty Days

Thirty days to say goodbye... |Option two of the NaNoWriMo competition!|


13. Eighteen



"I'll come."

"You will?" An ecstatic grin spreads across his face. "I- that's great! Yeah!" He grabs his notebook, sending the rest of his stuff flying everywhere. We were walking- well, he was walking, I was wheeling myself- to lunch. My notebooks and lunchbox rest in my lap as we make our way to lunch. 

"I-uh." Johnathan scribbles something down on a piece of paper, pushing it onto my notebooks. "This is the address to the beach."

"Thank you." I say. 


Later, I found the wheels on my wheelchair crunching on soft sand.

"Hey, you made it!" Jonathan says. "I was- well, I was wondering if you chickened out."

I frown. "Has this happened before?"

He scratches the back of his neck. "Well, yeah. A couple times."

I shake my head. "That's stupid. Why would someone chicken out on you? You're... well..." I ignore the buzzing in my stomach, pretending I don't feel the heat on my cheeks. I wheel past him, not noticing the sharp drop-off. My wheels begin to tip over the edge, and I scream.

"I got you!" I'm on solid ground again, panting. Strong hands grip the back of my wheelchair, pulling me back there. 

"Woah!" The same voice says. I twist my head to see a grinning Johnathan. 

"T-thanks." I say shakily, my body still trembling. "U-uhm, c-could you show me a-another way down?"

Smirking, Johnathan began to push me down a path only a few feet away from the cliff.

"Y'know, I can push myself." I say. "You don't have to-"

"But I do," he interrupts. "Wouldn't want you getting hurt again, would we?" 

He wheeled me to a small campfire. As I got closer, I could make out a radio and a cooler.

"Hot dogs!" He yelled, throwing a stick at me, along with a package of hot dogs.

I start giggling. Soon Johnathan joins in, and we're both laughing endlessly. 

Eventually, I manage to put my hot dog on the stick, wiping tears from my eyes. Unusually, it begins to blacken and burn almost immediately.

"Yum, burned dogs." I say dryly. I watch it smoke on the plate, giving it a bit before eating it.

"Okay!" Johnathan says, jumping up from his folding chair. "Let's dance."

"What?" I say. "But- I can't-"

"Sure you can," he says, pushing me forward. A song I don't recognize begins to play, echoing from some speakers by the campfire. 

"C'mon!" he says. "Dance!"

"Um..." I begin to move my hips, swaying them the best I can whilst constrained in a wheelchair.

"There you go!" He says, clapping his hands. I can't help but laugh. We both look like idiots, dancing in the sand to some strange music.

And there we stay, dancing until the sun touches the water.

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