Genre: Romantic Comedy
Location: Daycare Center
Object: A bottle of sunscreen
Word Limit: 1,000
The Break-up Diary
Synopsis: A young woman vows to break up with her boyfriend and start a new life. But as everyone knows: breaking up is hard to do.
Dear Diary,
I know I said that yesterday was gonna be the day that I was gonna do it. As soon as I had gotten off from work I was gonna drive over to Victor’s house and give him the old heave ho. It’s time to throw him back into the ocean of love. I’ve had just about enough of bottom-feeding shrimp. It’s time I set my hook into a real nice catch that can fill me up with the nourishment I need, not just physically – ‘cause Lord knows I got no complaints in that area – but in other ways, too. A woman knows when she’s picked all the good meat from a bone. At least that’s what I thought. Funny how jail can change a woman. Let me explain how things went down.
* * *
Mr. Peters was late again. His little red haired wonder was curled into a ball on the tile floor, sleeping with his thumb stuck between glossy pink lips.
“Jilly, you sure you’re gonna be all right if I leave?” Mildred asked me. She was mummified in her wool coat, knitted scarf, hat and matching gloves. She looked like she was ready to walk on the moon.
“Go,” I said. “I’m sure he won’t be much longer.”
“I’ll turn the lock on the door and set the alarm. That’s one thing less you’ll need to do when you rush outta here tonight.”
I’d never set the alarm. I figured if someone was desperate enough to break into a daycare center then they should be entitled to pilfer all the dirty toys they wanted.
Just before I picked up the phone to call Mr. Peters again the doorbell rang.
“Well it’s about time,” I mumbled and rushed to the front door of the converted house.
Without doing my usual peephole check, I opened the door to find my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend grinning behind a pair of jet black Ray Ban shades despite the fact that it was after six in the afternoon.
“You ain’t comin’ in here, Victor.”
“All Jilly,” he says in that boyish voice that used to make the little hairs on my neck stand up. Okay, fine. They’re still standing up. But right now that probably has more to do with the chill coming from the December air. “Why do you insist on being mean to me?”
I stepped outside so as not to awaken Bobby and let the door close behind me.
“There’s been something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, Vic.” I swallowed hard. “I think it’s time we moved on. I’ve spent enough of my youth with you and it’s pretty obvious to me that if we keep this up, I’ll end up looking after my own brood someday and you’ll still be running around calling yourself an actor with nothing to show for it.”
“Now listen, Jilly. I don’t just call myself an actor. I am one. And what’s so bad about having a brood? You know how many women in this town would kill to have a house full of kids with me?”
“Yeah, but the problem is, most of the women in this town are already saddled down with a bunch of snot-nosed ragamuffins and I ain’t gonna be one of them.”
“Jilly?” He moved closer to me and I could smell the leather jacket and his woodsy cologne collude to weaken the strength in my knees; the resolve in my back loosened. “Don’t you still love me?”
“This ain’t about love, Vic. This is about my future and getting out of this little town before I get stuck here forever. I’m going back inside.”
But when I put my hand on the doorknob I felt the heat of Victor’s body close to me. I smelled the familiar scent of his hair gel; I sensed his light gray eyes fixed onto my mop of sand colored, curly hair. His finger brushed back the hair against my ear and he whispered, “Even if I have nothing to show for my career, I’ll still have you. And if you ain’t enough to keep a man’s spirit alive then nothing is.”
Before I could respond, I felt an immediate shift in my belly. The floaty butterflies turned into a massive falling brick that landed me back into reality.
“The door’s locked. Bobby’s inside and the door’s locked. Do you have your cellphone with you?” When he shook his head, she continued, “’I’ll use the neighbors phone to call Mildred.”
“Don’t look to me like any of your neighbors have made it home yet.” He grinned, obviously enjoying the predicament. “Maybe we should just break in.”
I turned to Victor, ignoring the intensity of his eyes, the sweetness of the words he’d uttered moments ago. “You have anything to pry open the door?”
He shrugged and reached into his pockets and withdrew their contents. “Wallet. Keys. Sunscreen.”
“A bottle of sunscreen? What, the December sun too strong for your delicate skin?”
“Gotta protect the goods. Now, how ‘bout we break a window before Bobby’s parents drive up and see us making googly eyes on the front porch?”
“I’m not making googly eyes.”
“The hell you aren’t, kid. C’mon,” he gathered snow and made a big, icy snowball. “For once in your life, live dangerously.”
* * *
So that’s how it happened. One snowball later and we were squirming our way through the broken glass. Little did we realize that we’d tripped the alarm system. Since the naïve cop who picked us up couldn’t figure out if we were telling the truth or not, he hauled all three of us (Little Bobby included) down to the police station.
Needless to say, I’m back here at home. As for Victor, well let’s just say some fish are worth holding on to and some are best thrown back in the water.
Victor just might be a keeper after all.
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