Third Place - Sparkle by Robby Van Arsdale

Third Place

Sparkle

by Robby Van Arsdale

“Why do people always feel the need to make eyes sparkle in literature?” Her eyes don’t sparkle. He isn’t handsome, and she isn’t beautiful. They date.

Tara isn’t someone who you’d look at twice. Rory looks dumpy even when he wears a suit. They have conversations about transmissions and trestles and turnips and the tictoc tictoc tictoc of a grandfather clock. Boring. There’s no fire, no passion, no excitement where they’re headed. Just a long, slow, winding stair to eternity. Tara looks at Rory with a purely utilitarian eye: a future husband, perhaps. Maybe just a boyfriend. Definitely just a man. Rory doesn’t think about Tara after he goes back to his house. Video games? Most definitely. Tara? Boring.

He gets his hair cut. He looks worse.

Tara starts listening to country. Rory hates it, but she doesn’t care enough to change. Rory forgets to care.

A year later, on their anniversary, Rory tells her that he’s moving to Washington. She stares blankly at him. He starts again. “I’m moving to” She interrupts “I heard you. When do you leave?” Tears? Decidedly not.

Rory breaks up with her over the phone, on the plane to Washington. Like an afterthought - I forgot to break up with you, so here it is - you’re free now. Tara stops listening to country.

Tara finds someone new - he winks at her in the movie theater. They talk. People throw popcorn. They run out, he’s laughing. Danny is perfect. He’s like that guy, in that movie. The one you can never name, but you know it was good. You should watch that movie again. Danny smells like the lemons and laughs loud and hard. He shows up randomly with gifts. He freaks out when she’s acting funny. He’s sensitive and caring and handsome and loving.

Her eyes don’t sparkle.