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"The date."

Tom stood in the cool breeze; he was scared. The park pond reflected the sun into his hazel eyes and he turned away. He was nervous, beads of sweat ran down his brow from a combination of anxiety and the heat. It was the hottest day in three years, the radio had said. His eyes searched about through the park, curious. The surrounding trees leaned together and blocked his vision. His face became disappointed.
The only people in sight were Dick and Harry on a bench in the distance, watching him carefully. Dick was wearing his usual combination of a plain white t-shirt, paint stains to one sleeve, and baggy blue jeans; Harry was in his ‘Nike’ combination of vest and shorts as the heat had especially affected him. Tom himself had ‘pulled out all the stops’ for this and was wearing his best shirt and jeans, fresh from being ironed. The park was surprisingly empty for a Saturday.
Children could be heard faintly screaming and laughing in the distance but beside that no other human noise was available to the ears. The bright green leaves in the horse chestnut trees rustled excitedly in the breeze, overwhelming the three whenever a particularity large gust of wind came. They were surrounded by a constant rustling, Tom thought he heard someone call his name but couldn’t be certain as the noise of the trees was drowning everything out around them.
He could smell cooking meat in the air, someone was taking full advantage of the day and having a barbeque. Dick and Harry could smell this too; it was a distinct smell, the smell of beef. This was covering the strong smell of aftershave coming from Tom. It was a sickly sweet scent - his mother had bought him the aftershave for Christmas and this was the first time he’d been brave enough to use it.
They could taste the barbeque in their mouths and teasing their nostrils. Dick was particularly hungry, but that was no different from usual with him. Tom was so nervous his mouth was dry; this made him even more worried. He could taste dry saliva in his mouth, he occasionally gasped for breath where he was so nervous he’d forgotten to breathe.
A gust of wind blew Tom’s long dark hair up. He immediately began to play with it, adjust it, tweak it back in to position: he’d spent ages on it before they came out. The breeze was warm, Tom felt a bead of sweat roll down his side under his shirt. It was cool on his now hot skin. Dick felt in his pocket, pulling out his new blue mobile and looking glumly at the screen.
“What time is it?” asked Harry.
“Ten past two,” Dick replied quickly. The two looked at each other but said nothing.
A woman appeared in the distance. She was walking along the park’s tarmac path slowly, the wind blowing her natural blonde hair in her face. Tom’s head spun quickly to her, but she was too far away to identify. The heat rising from the hot floor blurred the woman’s face, Tom continued to stare in an attempt to recognise the face. Harry nudged Dick then nodded in her direction
“That her?” he asked.
“Not sure, could be,” replied Dick staring at her.
As she approached her appearance became clearer, she wasn’t very tall. She was wearing black knee high boots, a denim blue mini-skirt, her stomach was on view, it was tanned naturally, a sleeveless white top started an inch above her belly button, her hair overlapping the top of it. On her head balanced a pair of sunglasses, the sun bouncing off them hiding her eyes. Lip gloss made her lips shine like clean cutlery. She walked with her head held high, chest pressed out and arms straight by her side. She passed Tom and kept walking, Tom watched her walk through the rusted metal gate out of the park and around the corner until she disappeared out of sight.
“Not her,” said Dick.
“Bet he wishes it was though,” joked Harry.
The three returned to being silent and ever alert to movement. Dick giggled.
“What’s funny?” inquired Harry.
“Carl’s a batty,” read Dick from the bench. Harry looked at the backrest of the bench ,at the carving. Someone had inscribed it with a penknife. Harry smirked.
“Who writes these things” he asked.
“Someone who doesn’t like Carl?” laughed Dick.
Tom’s nerves were getting to him now; he checked his appearance for what seemed to be the hundredth time.
“You think she’ll come?” asked Dick vainly.
“Nah, she’s leading him on, isn’t she?” Harry replied.
Tom looked over to the two, catching Harry’s eyes.
“Reckon she’s late?” he shouted, the rustling leaves drowning him out but Harry could still hear the words clearly. This was the question he’d dreaded being asked; he knew it was coming from the moment Tom had made eye contact with him.
“Yea, course, she’s probably just late,” he lied.
“Well I’ll give it another ten minutes,” replied Tom.
He wandered over to the fence surrounding the pond; it was made from sharp spears of wood held together by twisted wire. The fencing looked sharp, the wire even sharper – but both were nothing compared to the pain he felt in his heart at that moment. His friend’s answer had cut his heart in two. Tom’s head was held low,. He spotted a large flat stone on the floor. He picked it up, grasping it in the palm of his hand. It felt cool and smooth. He rubbed his thumb up and down it. Dick and Harry were both watching curiously. Tom threw the stone as far as he could, using all his might and all his frustration to propel it across the pond. It hit the water with a large splash. Ducks scrambled in a blind panic, but only for a second – and then they continued with their leisurely swimming across the water as if they cared not at all for his pain. Tom walked calmly over to the two friends and sat on the end of the rotting bench. The three sat in an awkward silence Tom staring at the clear blue sky. He slouched on the bench. He tilted his head back, letting it over hang the back of the hot wood. He let out a loud sigh, then sat forward and said, ”C’mon, let’s go.”

The three stood up and began walking slowly, Tom marching in front.
“I thought this might happen,” he said.

I remember reading this a while ago, did you do it for english coursework or something Sam?

Nicely done anyhow, enjoyable and realistic - it was interesting without anything too amazing happening.

i agree...nice character build up and description someone has a talent!

thanks pring!

This deserves an A*!!!

Tom stood in the cool breeze; he was scared. The park pond reflected the sun into his hazel eyes and he turned away. He was nervous, beads of sweat ran down his brow from a combination of anxiety and the heat. It was the hottest day in three years, the radio had said. His eyes searched about through the park, curious. The surrounding trees leaned together and blocked his vision. His face became disappointed.
The only people in sight were Dick and Harry on a bench in the distance, watching him carefully. Dick was wearing his usual combination of a plain white t-shirt, paint stains to one sleeve, and baggy blue jeans; Harry was in his ‘Nike’ combination of vest and shorts as the heat had especially affected him. Tom himself had ‘pulled out all the stops’ for this and was wearing his best shirt and jeans, fresh from being ironed. The park was surprisingly empty for a Saturday.
Children could be heard faintly screaming and laughing in the distance but beside that no other human noise was available to the ears. The bright green leaves in the horse chestnut trees rustled excitedly in the breeze, overwhelming the three whenever a particularity large gust of wind came. They were surrounded by a constant rustling, Tom thought he heard someone call his name but couldn’t be certain as the noise of the trees was drowning everything out around them.
He could smell cooking meat in the air, someone was taking full advantage of the day and having a barbeque. Dick and Harry could smell this too; it was a distinct smell, the smell of beef. This was covering the strong smell of aftershave coming from Tom. It was a sickly sweet scent - his mother had bought him the aftershave for Christmas and this was the first time he’d been brave enough to use it.
They could taste the barbeque in their mouths and teasing their nostrils. Dick was particularly hungry, but that was no different from usual with him. Tom was so nervous his mouth was dry; this made him even more worried. He could taste dry saliva in his mouth, he occasionally gasped for breath where he was so nervous he’d forgotten to breathe.
A gust of wind blew Tom’s long dark hair up. He immediately began to play with it, adjust it, tweak it back in to position: he’d spent ages on it before they came out. The breeze was warm, Tom felt a bead of sweat roll down his side under his shirt. It was cool on his now hot skin. Dick felt in his pocket, pulling out his new blue mobile and looking glumly at the screen.
“What time is it?” asked Harry.
“Ten past two,” Dick replied quickly. The two looked at each other but said nothing.
A woman appeared in the distance. She was walking along the park’s tarmac path slowly, the wind blowing her natural blonde hair in her face. Tom’s head spun quickly to her, but she was too far away to identify. The heat rising from the hot floor blurred the woman’s face, Tom continued to stare in an attempt to recognise the face. Harry nudged Dick then nodded in her direction
“That her?” he asked.
“Not sure, could be,” replied Dick staring at her.
As she approached her appearance became clearer, she wasn’t very tall. She was wearing black knee high boots, a denim blue mini-skirt, her stomach was on view, it was tanned naturally, a sleeveless white top started an inch above her belly button, her hair overlapping the top of it. On her head balanced a pair of sunglasses, the sun bouncing off them hiding her eyes. Lip gloss made her lips shine like clean cutlery. She walked with her head held high, chest pressed out and arms straight by her side. She passed Tom and kept walking, Tom watched her walk through the rusted metal gate out of the park and around the corner until she disappeared out of sight.
“Not her,” said Dick.
“Bet he wishes it was though,” joked Harry.
The three returned to being silent and ever alert to movement. Dick giggled.
“What’s funny?” inquired Harry.
“Carl’s a batty,” read Dick from the bench. Harry looked at the backrest of the bench ,at the carving. Someone had inscribed it with a penknife. Harry smirked.
“Who writes these things” he asked.
“Someone who doesn’t like Carl?” laughed Dick.
Tom’s nerves were getting to him now; he checked his appearance for what seemed to be the hundredth time.
“You think she’ll come?” asked Dick vainly.
“Nah, she’s leading him on, isn’t she?” Harry replied.
Tom looked over to the two, catching Harry’s eyes.
“Reckon she’s late?” he shouted, the rustling leaves drowning him out but Harry could still hear the words clearly. This was the question he’d dreaded being asked; he knew it was coming from the moment Tom had made eye contact with him.
“Yea, course, she’s probably just late,” he lied.
“Well I’ll give it another ten minutes,” replied Tom.
He wandered over to the fence surrounding the pond; it was made from sharp spears of wood held together by twisted wire. The fencing looked sharp, the wire even sharper – but both were nothing compared to the pain he felt in his heart at that moment. His friend’s answer had cut his heart in two. Tom’s head was held low,. He spotted a large flat stone on the floor. He picked it up, grasping it in the palm of his hand. It felt cool and smooth. He rubbed his thumb up and down it. Dick and Harry were both watching curiously. Tom threw the stone as far as he could, using all his might and all his frustration to propel it across the pond. It hit the water with a large splash. Ducks scrambled in a blind panic, but only for a second – and then they continued with their leisurely swimming across the water as if they cared not at all for his pain. Tom walked calmly over to the two friends and sat on the end of the rotting bench. The three sat in an awkward silence Tom staring at the clear blue sky. He slouched on the bench. He tilted his head back, letting it over hang the back of the hot wood. He let out a loud sigh, then sat forward and said, ”C’mon, let’s go.”

The three stood up and began walking slowly, Tom marching in front.
“I thought this might happen,” he said.