Excerpt: The End of the World

National Novel Writing Month 2008 - The End of the World

Megan took a moment to look out her window at the boldly colored autumn leaves scattered across her lawn. “Snow? You’re kidding, right?” she laughed while sliding the phone onto her shoulder and tugging on a jacket.
“What, it’s not cold enough yet?”
“It’s only September,” she replied incredulously, grabbing the phone out of the crook between her neck and shoulder and pressing it to her ear while she ran out the door.
“And?” he asked in a voice that made Megan seriously doubt he was joking.
“Ky.” she said somberly, stopping in the middle of the hallway.
“Meg.” He replied. The corner of her mouth twitched.
“You idiot,” she laughed. “How’s things down there?” She tried to run down the stairs quietly so she could hear him over her pounding feet.
“Boring!” Kyle replied, exasperated. He blew air into the phone in an exaggerated sigh. “You remember it. Just fishing and rebuilding.”
“I mostly only remember the fishing bit.” Megan hopped out of the door to the building into the bright afternoon sun.
“That’s right, you were long gone before Katrina hit. Wuss. Couldn’t handle a little topical storm?”
“I was in school, Ky,” Megan replied, repeating their familiar exchange. He bravely weathered the ferocious storm while she fled to parts unknown from fear--having nothing to do with the fact that he ought to be legally insane for staying in the first place, and she had been in school for two years when the hurricane landed.
“Uh-huh,” he said sarcastically. “Not only did you run off, you couldn’t even come back to put stuff together again.”
“I did come back!” she protested while walking down the street. One head turned, and she lowered her voice. It wasn’t busy, but it was the middle of the city--there was bound to be SOMEONE around. Six years, and she was still getting used to regularly seeing people on the street.
“For a month! That hardly counts!” he shot back, voice crackling through the phone. Megan sighed, turning the corner.
“Nothing will satisfy you, will it?” Megan weaved between people as she got closer to her bus stop. That came to her easily, avoiding people, but there were some things she didn’t quite have a grasp on yet.
“Not until you come home for good and get your dad off my back,” Kyle muttered darkly.
“Someday, Ky,” Megan promised. “As soon as I make enough money not to have to work ever again.”
“Because you’re going to do THAT as an inner-city librarian.” Megan imagined him rolling his eyes and leaning against the wall. It nagged at her that she had no idea what that wall looked like since he’d built the new house after she had left again.
“He’ll just have to be patient,” she said, shaking her head. Kyle scoffed.
“Yeah, your father, patient. I think you’re doing it just so he’ll annoy me.”
“Oh no, you found me out,” she replied, monotone. “Oh--” A bus turned the corner, leaves scattering in the wind. Megan took off jogging down the street, praying that someone was getting off and it would stop long enough for her to read the stop. “Shoot! My bus! I gotta go!”
He could hear the phone interference from her running. “Ha, good luck. Come down and visit sometime, you hear?”
“Yeah,” she said breathlessly. “See you!” She snapped the phone shut and clenched it tightly in her hand, not bothering to put it in her pocket for lack of time. She stuck her hand up, and tried to get the driver’s attention without appearing too desperate. The bus squealed to a stop just as Megan reached the sign, panting.
“Cut it a little close today,” The driver remarked when Megan breathlessly thanked him.
“Y-yeah,” she replied, climbing the stairs.
“Talking with your boyfriend?” he smirked. Megan blushed. She’d known the driver for a year, having taken the bus first to grad school at Pitt, and then to the main library, nearly across the street from the school. She’d made polite small talk, but he’d certainly never inquired as to her romantic life. It was just one of those days, where people decide to do something different, to hell with habit, and see what comes of it.
“No!” she protested quickly. “N-no, just a childhood friend.”
“Mm,” he acknowledged politely, obviously not believing her. She hesitated a moment, intending to argue back with him, but realized it would just look worse for her. Still blushing, Megan turned and quietly took a seat, sliding over to sit by the window. Northeastern autumns were so beautiful. Maybe it wasn’t as north and east as autumn leaves were famous for, but it was farther north and east than she’d been for the first 18 years of her life. Yes, Pittsburgh was quite a big change from the end of the world.