These were just about tied, so I thought, why not both?
Now, Geoff and Jeff 2. II? Dos? Anyways. I wrote this while at a meeting of the writing group I’m in, and then had to read it out loud. It was wild and hilarious.
Geoff crossed his arms. “How did I even end up in the same place as him?” he muttered to himself. Eyes downcast, he fidgeted with his pillowcase. “I moved away.”
“GEOFF,” the cry came, as Jeff returned from the bathroom. “I thought for a second that I had hallucinated you, or that you would’ve gotten weirded out and run away, or–” he tackled Geoff affectionately. Or it might not have been affectionately. Jeff’s emotions were hard to read. His anger and his happiness and his sadness were all, like, the same emotion. He expressed them all the same way. Attacking people.
“Hi, Jeff,” Geoff said, feeling smushed and confused.
“You sound smushed and confused.”
“I know,” Geoff said.
“You want the top bunk? Or did you put all your stuff on the bottom bunk so that you can have the bottom bunk?”
Geoff couldn’t believe that Jeff was seriously asking that question. He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “What do you really think?” he asked.
“Oh,” Jeff said. He leaned away from Geoff and nodded knowingly. “You want to alternate days.”
Geoff was caught between rolling his eyes and laughing, so he just looked pained.
But that was also from the tackling.
“I’ve missed attacking you,” Jeff confided. “And being attacked by you. The playground is so boring without you.”
Geoff had to smile a little. “Yeah,” he said. “And I have yet to meet another 12-year-old with a CD collection of 80’s hits.”
Jeff grinned and then slapped his own knee. “I forgot to tell you,” he yelped, “I got a vibraphone for Christmas!”
Geoff’s eyes went wide behind his glasses. “A–a vibraphone?”
Jeff nodded. “I want to start a punk rock orchestra,” he announced. “It’s going to be great. I think it could be loud and wild and,” he rambled on a little bit, and then flopped over onto Geoff’s lap. “Want to move back and be in my punk rock orchestra?”
Geoff squinted down at Jeff. “I told you,” he said, “I can’t. My parents, and…” he trailed off.
Jeff looked very sad.
“But I’ll probably visit for Christmas break,” he said. “And my older sisters got their own place now, so maybe…” he trailed off.
Jeff jumped up and screamed a little bit. “You are the best,” he declared. “You can play my vibraphone whenever you want.”
Geoff shrugged. “I’ve only ever played a tambourine.”
Jeff giggled wildly and flung himself onto the floor. Geoff winced. That must’ve hurt. But Jeff just kind of stayed there, and then calmly said, “I love tambourines.”
Geoff would never understand Jeff’s undying enthusiasm or friendship. He didn’t even always like it. But he did appreciate it, and that’s what counted.
I was going to poll, but I have an idea for my next post.