Waiting For Sara: A story of heartbreak, love, change, and caring.

[Manveru]

PROLOGUE

Sara Hinderland was always the most popular girl in high school. She had all of the football boys at her beck and call night and day. Captain of the cheerleading team, great body, no drugs, and perfect grades. She was the very model of a teenage Midwestern girl. Her parents were well-off and she was all set to go to a great college, planning to double-major in Biochemistry and Physics. I, Jeremy Jonathan “JJ” Mullins, had always watched her enviously from the sidelines. She was a smart girl and it seemed to me that she knew there was something missing in all her relationships. Especially with her current boyfriend, Buck (I am not kidding, that was his real name!). She always seemed disinterested in him, and he always just seemed interested in her body more than anything else. But I loved her personality before her body - I know that’s what a lot of guys say just to get into a girl’s pants, but I’m being serious here. We’ve been really good friends ever since middle school. She always came to me for advice on her relationships, which put me in the ridiculously awkward position of never wanting to push myself on her as a lover over a friend.

But this time, this time was different. She really liked Buck. And as she had told me (I’m not entirely sure WHY she told me, I think she was a bit tipsy), he was the best she’d had in bed in her whole life. Yeah, she was a bit slutty, but she wasn’t a dumb slut. She always had the guys wear protection and got tested regularly for STDs. And then there was me, the sad lonely virgin, the best friend, the “he’s-like-a-brother-to-me” guy. Always there to help, console, and comfort. But then, in the summer of 2008, a car crash changed everything. It was four in the morning, and I was reading “The Hound” by HP Lovecraft when my cell phone rang.

You’re my best friend, and I loooove yooouuu, yes I loooove yoooou, yes I dooooo…

“Sara? What’s up,” I croaked.

“Jay?! Jay, oh god, Jay…” She was sobbing.

“Sara! Sara, what happened?!”

“It’s….it’s B-buck…he…he’s….d-dead!”

“What?! Sara, calm down!”

“Jay, please, Jay, just c-come over, I n-need you, please…”

“Ok Sara, I’ll be there soon. Just stay calm, okay?”

“O-okay…please, hurry…”

She hung up and I rushed to my car, scribbling a hurried note to my parents and leaving it on the kitchen table. I had a feeling I’d be at Sara’s for most of the night.

[NARU]

You will suffer the conseqences if I can guess the next 10 chapters.

[Abigail]

Very, very good. Can I make a suggestion though? Take out the " A story of heartbreak, love, change, and caring." Out of the title. it sounds like you're trying too hard, the readers will decide whether it's a heartbreaking, story of love change and everything.

[Lee Iero]

100% predictable,but good for a starting

[juriev]

Good, I want to hear more

[Chillhouse]

It's nice, but the whole "nerdy kid with a beautiful girl as a friend he secret loves" has been done to death. Hell, I've even used it.

[baby kiffer]

Well, you've presented a conflict, which has captivated me.

Might have done better off by excluding the last sentence; you've already established the importance of Sara in the narrator's life, so the reader can infer the following:

"I had a feeling I’d be at Sara’s for most of the night."

Other than that, I like what you have established.

I don't mind the plot!

[baby_jakey]

Predictive but good start, please more.

[Manveru]

It may seem predictable but trust me I will break up the obvious "She regresses after trauma blah blah" story with some interesting subplots.

[Manveru]

Chapter One: The Accident

Sara ran out of her door and hugged me as I approached her three-story Mc-Mansion.

“Oh, Jay! I’m so glad you’re here…it’s so awful! Buck…he..he got in an accident…”

“Oh god, Sara, I’m so sorry…come on, let’s go inside…” I led her up to her room, her sobbing on my shoulder the whole time. We collapsed on her bed on she sobbed on my shoulder, telling me about how Buck had gotten smashed by a drunk driver on his way to her house for the night.

“I…I loved him, Jay…I know it seemed like we were a bit bad for each other, but I loved him so much…”

“Sara…I’m so sorry…is there anything I can get you?”

“N-no, just…just stay, ok? Please?”

“Of course, Sara, I’d do anything for you.”

She gave me a strange look but shrugged it off and continued to cry. I stayed with her until she finally cried herself to sleep, her arms around me.

“Son of a b--tc,” I thought, “I’d love to be in this position in different circumstances.”

I fell asleep next to her, holding her in my arms.

------------------

I awoke the next morning to a strange feeling. My leg felt warm and wet. I lifted the covers to see a dark spot that extended from Sara’s crotch to my leg and over the bed. For a moment I thought that we had had sleep-sex or something, but a few sniffs told me all I needed to know. Sara had wet the bed. I didn’t think it that strange, I had heard of things like this happening to girls under extreme stress. She awoke soon after, and noticed the stain as well.

“Oh…oh god, Jay, I’m sorry,” she said, looking like she was again on the verge of tears.

“No, Sara, it’s fine, I know it was just an accident.” I offered to clean her sheets and clothes for me and she, apparently still half-asleep, said “Okay” and removed her pants right in front of me. I saw her underwear, a small pair of pink Hello Kitty panties, before I respectfully averted my eyes and brought the wet sheets and pants downstairs to the washing room. I put her sheets and our pants in the washer together and snuck back up to her room. I didn’t think her parents would like her having a boy sans pants in her room the morning after her last boyfriend had died. When I returned she was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, not crying, but still seeming short of breath.

“Sara? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” she said flatly. She spoke in a voice that was not hers, one I rarely heard her use. It signified her regression of herself, blocking out all the stimuli she could to try and mask her pain. She did this often after bad breakups or other stressful issues.

“I can stay, if you want me to, I don’t have anything going on.”

“Whatever,” she sighed. I was getting worried. I had seen her in this state before but she usually snapped out of it pretty fast. I decided it was best to just give her some space.

“Call me if you need me, Sara, and I’ll drop whatever I’m doing. I’m here for you, ok?”

She shrugged again and I gave her a quick hug before I left, realizing just in time that my pants were still in the wash. I went back to her room and opened the door, catching her bent over, putting a new pair of panties on. I couldn’t avoid catching a glimpse of her privates, and my jaw dropped. I hurriedly but quietly shut the door and waited a minute for her to finish before knocking.

“Come in,” she said, and I entered.

“My pants are still in the wash,” I explained, “Gotta wait until they’re out before I can go home.”

“Right,” she said, her voice now cracking a bit. I saw tears forming in the pits of her eyes and without another word I extended my arms. She leapt into them and began full-on sobbing again, her melancholy broken by wave upon wave of anguished tears.

“I miss him, Jay,” she choked out between sobs, “I miss him so much…”

“I know, Sara, I know…it’ll be alright,” I said, trying to calm her down. She continued crying and I just held her, being as supportive as I could.

About two hours later, I had convinced her to eat something, and we went out for pizza. She was still sniffling a bit but she seemed to be feeling a bit better. I bought her lunch and she smiled at me - it was the first time I had seen her smile in a whole day, which was rather rare for her.

“Feeling any better,” I asked quietly.

“A bit,” she said, blinking back a few small tears, “I still miss him and I know he’s never coming back, but crying isn’t going to change anything…it’s just…I don’t think I’ll ever find anyone who loves me as much as he did.” I felt a pang in my heart at this last sentence. She had no idea how I felt. But maybe for now it was better that way. I took her to a movie to try and get her mind off of Buck, but she seemed disinterested in it. I drove her home and asked her if she needed anything else.

“No, Jay, but thanks anyway. I think I’ll be okay. But I do have one request.”

“Anything,” I said.

“C-come to the funeral with me…it’s tomorrow at noon. Okay?”

“Sure, but…why me? Isn’t anyone else you know going?”

“Yeah, but…I just feel more…comfortable talking about Buck when you’re with me.”

“Sure. I’ll pick you up at eleven thirty, okay?”

“Sure. See you tomorrow,” she said, and closed the door.

“Patience, Jay,” I mumbled as I walked back to my car, “There’s still another month until college…she’ll forget him, and then you can pick up the pieces.” As soon as I finished saying this, I got a horrible guilt feeling in my gut. What was I doing? Why was I treating this death like it was a good thing?

“Snap out of it, Jay,” I said, “She’ll never fall for you.” I got into my Prius and drove back home, dark clouds of depression forming in my mind.