Orange Peel
Gerald took the orange in his hand and felt its smooth, yet porous surface. He had never been good at peeling oranges. He had never been good at anything for that matter. He looked blankly at the orange and all he could feel was regret. Gerald dug his fingernails suddenly, into the skin of the orange and began tugging, pulling, trying to get the peel to come off in one simple movement, like the pros did. His efforts were rewarded with thin little stringy strips of peel under his nails and a section of the orange peel which was now colored a lighter shade than the rest. He had failed. Again. The corners of his mouth turned down in frustration He thought back on Julie’s face. How bright and pleasant it had been when he had approached her. How jovial their conversation had been. How his stomach seemed to be performing somersaults inside his body, the nervousness almost, but unfortunately not overwhelming him. As he tugged at the orange’s skin once more he remembered the way her face had changed when he told her his feelings. How her expression seemed to hover somewhere between shock, pity, disgust and sadness. How the silence after he spoke seemed to last an eternity. The way his stomach sank downwards, the words which he could still feel and taste inside his mouth suddenly seeming to taste very bitter. His fingers dug too deeply, too strongly, into the orange this time. He could feel soft, slightly gooey wetness touch the tips of his fingers and little drops of orange juice slid down the surface of the fruit. It was a moment he replayed constantly in his head. Every little detail, every little word. Gerald wanted to change it. Maybe make it come out right, makes his words more convincing. Or maybe not say anything at all. Let things stay as they had been, let them simply be friends. Maybe a better moment could have presented itself then. Or maybe she would have responded different if he had worn a different shirt. Gerald wanted to try again. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t ever try again. Finally he got a good grip on the orange peel with his fingers and he started to pull it off. It came off fairly easy and mostly in one stroke. He grabbed at the remaining skin and it came off now with ease. He could never speak to her again. Not anymore. He hadn’t just lost the hope of Julie and himself ever being more than friends. He had lost her as a friend as well. He let out a breath of air he didn’t know he had been holding and at the same time felt a tear roll down his cheek. He looked at the orange resting in the palm of his hand. It was exposed and raw, its fleshy surface feeling the cold air of the outside world for the first time. He set the orange down on the table next to him. His expression suddenly turned to disgust. I don’t even like oranges he thought as he walked away in frustration.