Brain Curd #483
Brain Curds are barely-edited fiction, poetry, or just about anything else - drafted in a day or less. There’s nothing quite like gardening.
Part 72 of an experiment in progress. Refer to case logs.
“Oh!” Ocean jumped up. “I thought that was you! Quick, get inside before someone sees you!”
“What?” Emily whisper-yelled. “You can’t bring him in here!”
“Don’t worry, he won’t tell anyone. Right, Trevor?”
“Right,” I nodded, awkwardly climbing through the abandoned shed’s window. “Your secret is safe with me.” I wasn’t entirely sure what that secret was, but I had an idea.
“Don’t come any closer!” Emily squealed.
“Trevor,” Ocean said, “Could you stand in that corner and turn around?”
I shot a thumbs-up and followed her instructions. There was a rustling sound behind me, then a zipper.
“Okay, you can come over here now!” Ocean beamed. “Trevor, this is Emily. Emily, Trevor.”
“I’m sure we’ve met,” I replied, extending my hand.
Emily looked at me with suspicion. “Have we?”
Now that I thought about it, maybe we hadn’t really talked before. She wasn’t the same Emily who played the cowardly lion - there was no cowardly lion now.
“It’s a small school, isn’t it?” I replied, pulling back my hand. “We must have talked to each other at least once.”
Ocean interrupted. “We were just about to smoke. Wanna join us?” She waved a joint in the air.
Emily grabbed it. “That’s my weed. I brought it for the two of us.”
Ocean leaned her head on Emily’s shoulder and looked up at her with wet, shiny eyes, sticking out her bottom lip.
“Oh, fine.” Emily lit the joint, took a puff, and stuck it out toward me.
I shook my head. “No, thanks, I really shouldn’t. I used to have a problem.”
She rolled her eyes. “You can’t get addicted to weed, you know.”
“Right. Well… more for you, anyway.”
Ocean tugged at my arm. “Hey, you wanna know how I found out your name?”
“Was it legal?”
She blinked a couple times. “Maybe.”
There were more important things I wanted to talk to Ocean about, but none that I cared to say in front of Emily.
I shrugged. “Go ahead.”
Ocean took a hit and giggled. “My step-dad is an illuminator. Wait, that’s not the right word…”
“What does he do?”
“He draws.”
“Illustrator?”
“Yeah, that’s it! He’s an illustrator. You’ve probably seen him doing characters on front street. Sometimes the police department hires him, too.”
I’m pretty sure she meant ‘caricatures’, but I thought it best not to interrupt her.
“Anyway, I described your face to him and he drew this…” She rooted around in the big pocket of her backpack, which I just now noticed was covered in an assortment of pins.
She pulled out a pencil drawing of me that was more flattering than I expected, but still looked like me. Well, it looked like me if I had slightly softer features.
“The next day, I took this picture around and asked everyone who it reminded them of and took notes. That name, Trevor, was the number one answer.”
“What were the other answers?”
“Two girls said you looked like Kristen Stewart. I can kinda see it.”
I blushed. “Uh… huh…”
“I don’t.” Emily butted in as she exhaled smoke. “I mean, maybe in the drawing I guess. But not your real face. So don’t worry about it.” She coughed. “You don’t look anything like a girl.”
I gulped. “Thanks. Uh, Ocean?” I scratched the back of my neck. “Do you have a Snap?”
“Mmm-hmm!” She showed me her phone. Her account was called @MakingWaves.
“Cool,” I smiled, trying not to get too excited. “Uh, I’ll text you later?”
“Sure!”
I got up and walked to the window. It didn’t look like anyone would see me climb out. “Nice seeing the both of you!”
I tripped over the window sill and landed on my chest, which didn’t feel great. I nearly inhaled sand when I saw a pair of feet standing in front of me, but it was just Celeste.
“How ya feelin’?” She smiled.
Better, I thought. Honestly better.
Penned 2025.12.21
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