Donald and Thurma – Part 4 – Finale

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

“I think I can,” he said to himself, chugging along the sidewalk tracks. “I think I can.”

Donald walked with both fists clenched. Amanda and Thurma strolled a short ways ahead, Thurma with her head down.

He wasn’t angry, he was determined – and approaching a girl who was more than likely to reject him was no easy task for Donald.

“Hey,” he called out.

The two girls turned around. Amanda smirked, and crossed her arms. Thurma stilted like a wooden statue.

“Let me guess,” said Amanda. “You found something and were wondering if it belongs to Thurma. Is that your excuse for talking to her? Because that’s not exactly original.”

“No,” said Donald. “I want to talk to her as myself.”

“Why?” said Amanda, narrowing her eyes. “Been acting like somebody else?”

Donald stared straight at Thurma. “Have you?”

Silence.

“Erm, I’ll leave you two alone,” said Amanda, before patting her friend on the shoulder and walking on ahead.

“What are you talking about?” Thurma said to him.

“This shit.” Donald pointed back to the bar. “You want some dipshit frat-boy, let me know and I’ll leave right now.”

“I don’t want that.”

“I’m a dork. My name’s Donald by the way.”

“Mine’s Thurma.”

“You’re one too.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” said Thurma. She twisted her lip, then sighed and lowered her gaze to his feet. “But maybe I’m not the bitch who you met, either.”

“Good.”

She looked back up. “Maybe I am just a basic bitch. Maybe if you knew the real me, you wouldn’t have come running to talk to me.”

“I like basic bitches. I’m a basic dude.”

Thurma chuckled, then hid her teeth behind her hand. “So what do you want?”

“Huh?”

“What are you after?” She said, then set her hands on her hips. “Is it a number, to brag to your friend about? Because if you really think you’re going to sleep with me tonight-”

“I came to talk with you. That’s all.”

“Why?”

“Because when I look at you I see a part of me, the part that I like.”

“What part’s that?”

Donald scratched the back of his head, then looked away. “I like good morning texts. I like snuggling. I like having to tell a girl she doesn’t have to worry about what’s-her-name, no matter how paranoid she’s being, or clingy she becomes.”

“I’m not following you.”

Donald shook his head, then returned his gaze to Thurma. He creased his brow when he noticed the mark on her chin, then leaned forward to get a better look at it.

“Stop!” she said, then covered the mark with her hand. “That’s rude.”

Donald grabbed her wrist and forced it away, then set his thumb on her chin. “I like the scar you try to hind behind your makeup.”

Thurma’s exhale came heavy. “Oh…”

“The stuff that puts other guys off, that’s the stuff that I like. You could say that’s from low-confidence, but I don’t think it is. I think it’s a preference.”

“Ok.”

“There’s no line I can say to make you want me, there’s no maneuver I can use that will get you to like me back.”

Thurma’s eyes fidgeted in Donald’s.

“I’m just saying that I’d like to get to know you. If that friend zones me, then fine-”

“You said it.”

“What?”

“About fifteen seconds ago. You said the line that won me.”

“Huh?”

“Kiss me dork.”

Donald moved in with a smirk, then gave Thurma a light peck on the cheek.

Thurma shook her head, then scolded him with a finger wag. “I swear to God, if that’s what you think it means to kiss a girl don’t ever-”

Donald slid his hand through her hair, raking her brunnette locks up in his fingers until he had his hand wrapped around the back of her head. He advanced until her forearm fell flat against his chest, then dug his lips into hers. Thurma’s eyes dropped closed and the phone she had been holding unraveled from her fingers and plummeted until it cracked against the sidewalk. She immediately pressed her newly-freed hand against the side of his face.

An obnoxious series of honks was followed by a loud holler:

“Fuck her already, bro!” Yelled Freddy.

Donald finally took a step back.

“Number,” said Thurma.

“I think your phone broke.”

“Ok.”

Donald smiled, then wrote his down on a wrinkled napkin he’d stored in his pocket. “Nice meeting you,” he said, then turned around and headed towards Freddy’s escalade. Once he took his seat Freddy sped away.

“You better get a tit-pit,” said Freddy.

Donald grinned and looked at him.

“What?” said Freddy.

“I’m the man,” said Donald.

“You’re a man, not sure if you’re the man.”

“No,” said Donald, before turning the bass up on Freddy’s sound system. “I’m the man.”

The End!

Hope you enjoyed.

  • Thomas M. Watt

Donald and Thurma – Part 2

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If you haven’t read part 1, start here.

Donald and Freddy sat at a back table, a beer to each of them.

“Who you keep staring at?” said Freddy.

Donald shook his head. “Nobody, forget it.”

“Don’t be a pussy. Who is it?”

“The girl I ran into at the door. She seemed nice.”

“We want bad bitches, not basic bitches. Where she at?”

Freddy poked his head up like an ostrich, prompting Amanda and Thurma to stop looking in Donald’s direction.

“The blonde or brunette?” said Freddy.

“God, you have to be so obvious?”

Freddy smacked Donald on the forearm. “You have to be such a bitch? Blonde one’s hotter, go for her.”

“No. I like the brunette,” said Donald, glancing at Thurma after he said it.

“Makes sense, you don’t have enough confidence to take down a tiger like that blonde. Girl got a dumper.”

“Tiger? Dumper? What?”

“Are you gonna go over there or just sit here and talk about going over there?” said Freddy.

Donald scratched the back of his head, then crossed his arms and sunk into the table. He took a sip of his drink.

“Let me finish my beer first. That way I have a reason to-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Freddy knocked the glass mug off the table. It shattered and the blue moon washed away.

“What the hell?” said Donald.

“Oh shit, looks like you need another drink! Now get your ass over there and talk to her.”

Donald bit his lips, checked out Thurma again, then stood up.

“Fine.”

“And remember-”

“What?”

“Be an asshole. Else you’ll be stuck in the friend zone again.”

Donald sighed. “Got it,” he said, then started over to the bar.

  • * *

“Oh, he’s coming,” said Amanda, nudging her friend.

“Which one? The douche or the one who maybe lifeguards during rainy days in autumn?” said Thurma.

Amanda’s head bobbed back. “That was a pretty specific description.”

“Just tell me!”

“The tall one with the good-boy hair.”

“God no. Shit. I don’t want to do this. Come with me to the bathroom,” Thurma said, then stood up from her bar stool.

Amanda grabbed the bottom of her skirt and whipped it up.

“Stop!” Said Thurma, snapping back into her seat.

“Haha. You’re going through with this. Remember – demand respect.”

“By being a bitch?”

“Yep.”

“Oh shit. God dammit. Got it.”

The two went quiet, and Donald took the seat beside Thurma.

  • * *

Donald turned to Thurma, and the two met eyes. Neither smiled, and both instantly looked straight ahead.

“Waddup,” said Donald.

“Who are you talking to?”

Donald looked at her. “Oh. Didn’t notice you there. You’re so short.”

Thurma raised her eyebrows, then turned to Amanda. Amanda pushed her so hard Thurma’s barstool rocked and sent her colliding into Donald.

Donald caught her in his arms. “Be careful! You okay…  idiot?”

“Yeah, I – What?”

“What.”

Thurma pursed her lips together. “You’re not good enough for me. Bye.”

“Oh. Ok,” said Donald. He began looking around for Freddy, but his friend had disappeared from their table.

“Who are you looking for?” said Thurma, hands to her hips. “And why are you still here?” She brushed one of her curly brown locks back behind her ear, then stood with her hands at her hips.

“More… bitches,” said Donald.

“You’re looking for more bitches?”

“Yea. Badder ones. You’re a basic… be-yotch.”

“We prefer the to be called females.”

“Oh ok. I’m looking for more females.”

“You sound like a moron.”

“Ok,” said Donald. Both opened their mouths to speak at the same time, then stopped when they thought the other person would. Neither said anything, and both looked away.

“You’re kind of a b,” said Donald.

“A b?” said Thurma, before pressing her tongue into her teeth. “What’s that b stand for, eh?”

“I said ‘B’, not ‘A’.”

They both smiled and laughed.

Something gave Donald a sudden jolt forward, and his momentum sent him shoving Thurma into Amanda. Both girls spilled their drinks all over their dresses, then stared at Donald with shark jaws.

Wide-eyed, Donald slowly turned around to see who had shoved him.

“Waddup bitches, see you’ve met my friend. Huge cock, case you were wondering.  Name’s Freddy,” said Freddy, as he extended his hand out for the girls to shake.

To be continued…

– Thomas M. Watt