Y is for Yohann Did Not See This Coming #atozchallenge #ShortStory

My theme for 2021 is a Young Adult short story. A double-date in the 1990s. An established teen couple sets up their best friends with each other, but it doesn't go well.

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Today's word count is approximately: 770 words

Y is for Yohann Did Not See This Coming

We get back in Lance's car. He bursts out laughing as soon as the engine starts.

"Sweet Princess? Make them dinner? Very much like to spend time with them? Bull." 

I groove along to Little Miss Can't Be Wrong by the Spin Doctors. "Poor Yohann. They're never going to like you."

"Hey, I got us out of there, didn't I? And is she crying right now? No. Even though we had to ditch her. Now can we please go somewhere to eat this? I'm starving."

I realize, as Lance turns at the end of the street, where he's most likely to drive. "We didn't get food for Mike."

"He has his own food. It's his place." Lance turns the radio up.

I turn it back down. He frowns. "It's rude to show up without food for him. We could go to a park or something."

"They close at sunset," Yohann says.

"They can't close a park. There's no fence or gate. How are they going to close nature? You think the trees all move together? The squirrels gather their forces and demand the humans keep out?" I cross my arms.

"No. I think the cops drive by and if they see a car, they stop to throw people out. Besides, we can't watch the movie in a park," Yohann replies as he finger-drums along to the song.

"Mike can have my egg roll," Lance offers. 

He already had your girlfriend, why not give him an eggroll? But Lance doesn't know that. Yohann does. And this is going to be his revenge.

"Babe, we know exactly one person with their own place. Mike had the good fortune of graduating and inheriting that apartment complex. A job and a place to live, all in one swoop. And he shows his gratitude for his windfall by having his old team members over whenever we want. Making sure we always have a place. Yeah, Yohann and I are the ones that visit most often. But that's because our families suck the most."

"Preach it," Yohann chimes in from the back seat.

I sigh. "I'm just saying, if we're going over, we should bring him food too. It's rude to show up without some for him too."

Lance spins the wheel, pulling a U-turn at the light. He floors it back toward the mall. 

All the speeding and road-rule-breaking that Madelyn's mom had threatened about. At least she's not with us now.

*******

Mike's food is the only container that's hot by the time we get to his place. 

"You brought me something? That was nice of you." Mike pulls out his wallet and hands Lance a fifty-dollar bill.

"That's more than the whole meal." Lance holds up his hands in protest. "Besides, it was her idea."

Mike looks at me. "Was it? Well, it costs time and money to bring the food. What'd you bring to put in my mouth?" 

He shoves the fifty in Lance's shirt, never breaking eye-contact with me. I look at the floor, but when I glance up, he's still staring. I feel naked, despite my clothing.

Yohann pulls the food out. He yanks the metal handle from his container before popping the food in the microwave. Gotta love meals that come with their own plates. 

Ten minutes later, we're all in the living room with our food, the movie playing on the tv. I'm wedged on the yellow couch between Mike and Lance. Yohann has taken the beanbag chair alongside the coffee table. There are fingers running along my legs on both sides, as both guys are touching me.

I want to move to Lance's lap. Or put him in the middle. Except this is the normal configuration. If I make a big deal out of it, Lance will know something's up. 

Mike isn't just his friend. This is his refuge. He can never know what happened. 

"I feel sick," Yohann says as someone dies on-screen.

"Wuss," Lance says as he takes his last bite of broccoli. 

"No, seriously," Yohann doubles up and rolls off the beanbag chair.

"What's wrong?" Mike pauses the movie.

Lance gets up and goes to Yohann's side.

"My stomach. And my head." Yohann has Lance help him up a moment before he runs for the bathroom.

*******

I cling to Lance's hand as we walk into the hospital room. The machines are all quiet now. A white sheet covers a lump on the bed. There's a white plastic bag on the table, Yohann's name written in black letters. Everything smells like lemon and bleach. Lance's cologne can't disguise the scent. 

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Thank you for reading! 

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