April was so relived she didn’t ask questions. She fell in behind him and took a swig. Strawberry.
They traversed the road and pushed into a thicket. “Keep away from prying eyes,” Zach winked.
“it was just a joke”
They ambled along, easy terrain in stark contrast to April’s state of mind. The wine cooler was stronger than it tasted; her joints were padded and her mind strummed. It made her brave: “Why are you so into hanging out with me tonight Zach?”
He didn’t stop walking. “Huh?”
She threw up her hands and scowled at his back, “April fools day.”
“Is it?” He looked back, genuinely perplexed.
She stopped following. “Yeah. What’s the joke?”
“Joke?” He frowned, confused. “I just wanted to talk to you ever since…” He looked away, then made a decision, “that Homecoming float thing.”
April was struck dumb.
“That Macbeth thing. The Drama Club float.”
Her mind raced, remembering the green make-up and the silicon wart on her nose. Double, double toil and trouble. “But I was a nasty witch.”
“Yeah, and you’re beautiful underneath. No—I mean on top, too.”
She stared at him. “I thought drama club was dorky.”
His eyes kindled. “It is. That’s the thing.” He reached out a hand to touch her face, like he couldn’t help himself. “You’re just exactly who you are, no matter what people think.” He traced her jawline. “Or what you pretend. Not many people like that around here. You know?”
“Where are we?” April spun around. They were in the thick of woods that she didn’t know. A derelict wooden cabin slouched into the mountainside. “No…”
“Yes,” Zach grinned. “The Shack.”
This flash fiction is a part of the Blogging From A to Z (April 2015) Challenge. A new installment arrives every day in April, following the alphabet; check the calendar below to see which letters post on which days. Read more about this blogfest HERE.