Me and Cute Drew Too
‘The brainy girl's man’
My name is Jenny Straw. And I guess, I’m just like, like any other girl I guess. I’m 17, I work in a shop, I watch Netflix a lot.
And then I met Drew. He’s awesome. Even though he’s dead. Not that I’ve ever had anything against the dead, lol.
So I told my parents about my new boyfriend. They were thrilled. Then I told them he was dead. Less thrilled.
And then I asked: Would you like to meet him?
“So, Drew…” everyone seemed to be uptight for some reason as my dad started to say this. All eyes on Dad. “My daughter says you’re a — ?”
“Zombie, yes,” Drew nodded, smiling cutely. “But we prefer the term, living impaired.”
“Oh.”
“Do you mind?” I asked Drew, and he shook his head, as I took more food from his untouched plate.
“Jenny says you have an interesting, erm, fascination with — ”
“Neurology, yes,” Drew said, another cute smile.
My mum gave one of her judgy, weak smiles I always hate.
“So where did you meet?” Dad asked.
“The graveyard,” me and Drew said at the same time, then giggled.
“I was just doing my usual, you know, wander around the graves,” I giggled, “seeing if there were any good names I could write a lovely story about when I bumped into — ”
“Me.” We giggled again.
“Hmmm,” said Dad. He had the same look that he had for a while. like something had died under his nose, and now he had to pay the funeral bills, “and may I ask, what you were doing in such a place, erm, Drew?”
“I live there, don’ I?” Drew said, eyes darting from Dad’s gaze.
“Honestly Dad, lay off!”
“It’s ok Jenny,” Drew said, because, honestly, isn’t he the best?
“No, I can handle it. Not everyone can afford a house, you know. So what if he lives in a… a… what is it again, cutie?”
“Hole in the ground.”
“A hole in the ground! Liz lives in a bungalow, and that’s fine as well!”
“Leave auntie Liz out of this!” snapped Dad.
“Fine,” and I got up, “Come on Drew, we’re leaving.” I grabbed Drew’s hand.
“Sorry about this,” said Drew to my mother, “and honestly love, if my rotting body could stomach it, your food would be lovely as well.”
Mum nodded but said nothing. Typical mum.
A week later I dumped him. Too flakey. His skin kept coming off.
My new’s boyfriend is much better. Got a great car, and he can fly. Weird dietary requirements though. For one, he hates garlic bread. And sometimes I think he only wants me for my body. I keep telling him, my last boyfriend wanted me for my brains, and he said, I bet he did.
Typical men, eh? Dead or alive they’re all a bunch of rude monsters.
Challenge Requirements
Your story must:
- Tell us a fictional story related to this fake, dead boyfriend.
- Be min 100 and max 1000 words long, excluding the title, subtitle, and any post-story bio/links. (We use Medium’s own word count feature.)`
- Use “Dead Secret” as one of your five tags. We recommend Fiction, Flash Fiction and maybe your genre too. But it’s your choice.
- Please link back to the prompt so others can find it easily.
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