Art Prompt Writing Contest - Jenny's Summer Vacation

“Honey, please grab the sugar.” Jenny’s mom nodded towards the camper trailer. She was guiding slippery sizzling eggs in a pan over a camp stove.

Jenny peeled herself out of the folding chair like a slug. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

Rummaging through the cupboards, she found the box of sugar cubes. She glanced at her little sister’s bed. There was Cindy, her favorite doll back in the day. She grasped Cindy, a scrap of the past. Old friends. The old house. Pigtails and lollipops. She smirked and threw the doll down. She had given all her old crap to Gracey. Good riddance.

“Honey, the sugar, please.”

Jenny slowly slunk out of the trailer. “Yeah, mom. I got it. Geez.” Jenny thrust the box at her mom.

Her dad looked up from his morning paper and coffee. “Show some respect to your mother.”

“Whatever. I’m bored.”

He shook his head and flipped the paper back up, obscuring a frown. Gracey sat quietly, cradling a doll and watching the usual morning theater with a grin.

“Honey, you can go play with your friends after breakfast,” Jenny’s mom said.

“They’re not my friends. Just some kids around here.”

Morning sounds rattled around their little camp. Tent flaps unzipping, eggs and sausage frying, kettles whistling. Jenny moved scrambled eggs around on her plate. She ate a small portion of the eggs and had few bites of toast. Something gnawed at her stomach. Maybe a dash of nerves.

“On a diet, honey?”

“Mom.”

“She wants to look good for Mark.” Gracey was combing her doll's hair. Another of Jenny’s old dolls.

“Shut up.”

“Jenny! Watch that attitude. Help your mom and then you can go.”

With clenched jaw, Jenny dried the last dish. Mark and Lucy pulled up on their bikes a few feet away. Mark waved her over. Jenny’s gut tightened and her cheeks flushed crimson.

“Dad, I need some quarters.”

Jenny’s dad got up and fished some change from his pocket. As he handed Jenny the quarters, he bent down and kissed the top of her head.

“Oh my god.” Jenny tried to disappear into her oversized sweatshirt. She ran to her bike and hopped on. Mom and Dad waved but Jenny didn’t wave back, let alone look at them.

“Slow down there, speed racer.” Mark rode up beside Jenny.

“God. I could just die.” Pedaling harder she broke away from Mark. The wind felt good as it cooled her cheeks and clammy skin.

They reached the convenience store across the highway and hopped off their bikes. Beside the store was a small red cabin, like a miniature barn. They scurried into the cabin and bee-lined for The Simpsons cabinet. Fittingly, Mark picked Bart and Lucy picked Lisa, which left Jenny Marge or Homer. Great, left with the parents.

“Check out the loser, twelve o’clock,” Lucy said.

Jenny glanced over to the far corner of the little room. A chubby boy, sporting thick glasses and acne, was playing Mortal Kombat.

“Finish him!” The arcade cabinet’s sound system rang out through the small room.

With a flurry, the boy dialed in the combination. He pumped his fist as Sub-Zero tore Scorpion’s head off. With fist raised, he looked around. He locked eyes with Jenny, then dropped his head, his face turning red.

“What a dork,” Lucy said.

“Finish him!” Mark yelled.

Mark and Lucy laughed.

“Come on, just let him do his thing.”

“Ooo. Someone likes Sub-Zero,” Lucy said. Jenny elbowed her in the side. She glanced over at Mark, then yanked hard on the arcade stick and drummed on the attack button.

All out of quarters, they streamed out into the midday sun. The dorky kid was gone. They pedaled back to the campground.

Mark took Jenny aside. “Meet me by the oak tree after dinner.”

All she could do was nod.

After supper, Jenny begged her folks to let her go over to Mark’s and Lucy’s.

“Fine, but be back in an hour,” Jenny’s dad said.

She ran to the big oak tree. There was Mark. Her poor stomach wouldn’t let her have any peace, tied up tight like a figure eight knot. They walked down to the beach, both dead quiet. She stole glances. His thick blond hair wafted in the evening breeze, as did her summer dress. The beach was deserted. With trembling hands she arranged her dress and sat down in the sand.

Mark joined her, sitting close, but not too close.

“Did you like that dork back at the arcade or something?” Mark was looking out onto the lake.

“Not really. I guess I just felt sorry for him.”

The waves lapped against the shore. Distant sounds of people carried across the water. A bright moon cast deep reflections on the lake.

“Yeah, well, he’s a dork. You’re cool.”

The reflections on the water seemed to shift from white to gray.

“He was just doing his thing.” Jenny grabbed a handful of sand.

“Whatever. You guys leaving tomorrow, huh?” Mark said.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Mark slid over close to Jenny. She felt the coarse sand grate in her palm, her knuckles white. Mark leaned in with a big grin. She sprang up, standing over him with balled fists.

“You really like that nerd, huh?” Mark’s grin looked cartoonish in the moon’s glow.

A cool breeze hit her. The knots in her stomach melted. She scrunched her face.

“Hey Bart, eat my shorts.” Jenny flung the sand at Mark’s head.

She ran down the beach, into the darkness. She heard yelling but didn’t care. Her feet pounded against the sand till they ached. Exhausted, she collapsed onto her back. Her dress's frilly fabric was full of sand. She shivered as a cold gust blew in from the lake. Looking up at the sky, she forced a laugh. A loud staccato that carried across the water.

Sub-Zero is way cooler anyway.

---

This is my entry for Gmuxx's Art Prompt Writing Contest #6.

Many thanks to the folks at the Writers' Block who workshopped and made editing suggestions for this story. I changed the ending mainly due to the discussion over there, along with several helpful edits. Thank you!