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MidReal Story
Snowed In With My Crush
Scenario:I am a teen boy and me and a teen girl are trapped alone by snow in a small cabin
Create my version of this story
Ethan
He is a high school senior who loves music and photography. He is resourceful,determined,and slightly anxious. Ethan finds himself trapped in a cabin with his classmate,Emily,after driving through heavy snow. As the storm rages outside,he tries to make light of the situation and offer her comfort. He struggles with his feelings for Emily,unsure if she feels the same way.
Emily
She is a junior high school student who loves baking. She is calm,witty,and slightly selfconscious. Emily ends up at the cabin with Ethan after driving through the snow fails. She feels flustered around him and tries to make light of the situation. As they wait for help,she reveals her baking secrets and displays courage in facing the isolation with Ethan.
I never thought I’d be saying this, but I’m glad to be stuck in this cabin with a teenage girl.
Not that I’m glad to be stuck in the cabin per se, but it’s nice to have some company that doesn’t involve my parents or little sisters.
And if I’m being completely honest, I never thought I’d find myself attracted to Emily.
She’s a year younger than me, and even though we go to the same school, we don’t hang out in the same crowds.
I know all the guys in my grade want nothing more than to get with her, but she always seemed really self-conscious and aware of the fact that guys were checking her out.
I figured she was just really shy, or maybe she had a bad experience and didn’t want anything more.
But now that I’ve seen her in those tight jeans and sweater, baking cookies like she’s trying to torture me with their smell, I can’t help but wonder if maybe she’s not as innocent as everyone thinks.
Maybe she has secrets.
Maybe she wants something more than what she’s letting on, but is too afraid to take the first step.
I watch her now as she tries to make light of our situation, even though we both know it’s probably going to be at least a day before we’re rescued.
The snow is too much for anyone to drive through, and even though my phone has service, it isn’t strong enough for a call to go through.
I sit on the worn couch, watching her arrange the cookies on a plate.
The cabin feels smaller now that it’s getting dark, and I’m starting to get bored.
My phone battery is at 15% - no point wasting it on games anymore.
Emily plops down on the couch beside me, closer than she was before.
Our shoulders almost touch, and I can feel the warmth of the cookies between us.
I try to think of something to say, but my mind is a blank.
I look over at her and see that she’s already eating a cookie.
Her eyes are closed in bliss, and I can’t help but stare at her lips as she chews.
I clear my throat to get her attention, and she looks over at me with a smile on her face.
"Thanks for these," I say, picking up a cookie off the plate.
"They’re really good."
"You’re welcome," she replies, taking another bite of hers.
We sit there in silence for a moment, eating our cookies and staring at the fire. I start to feel like we’re in one of those cheesy teen movies where they play truth or dare to break the ice.
I never thought I’d be one of those guys who would suggest playing truth or dare, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
And if it leads to some interesting confessions or dares, then all the better.
My heart starts racing as I turn to Emily and say, "Hey, want to play truth or dare?"
She pauses mid-bite and looks over at me with an unreadable expression on her face.
For a second, I think she’s going to say no, but then a small smile crosses her lips and she says, "Sure."
I grin back at her and say, "Great. You go first."
She nods and says, "Okay. Truth or dare?"
I hesitate for a second before saying, "Truth."
Her question hangs in the air as I shift uncomfortably on the couch.
The crackling fireplace casts dancing shadows across her face, making it harder to look away.
I fidget with a half-eaten cookie, brushing crumbs from my lap while I buy time to answer.
The truth burns in my throat - not just about being trapped here, but about being trapped here with her.
My fingers drum against the couch armrest as I consider lying, but her patient gaze holds me captive.
I take a deep breath and stare into the fire, avoiding her eyes.
The words tumble out, barely above a whisper.
"Everyone at school seems to move in their own circles. I feel like I’m always on the outside looking in."
I pause, my voice growing stronger.
"I take pictures of everyone else’s moments, but I never feel like I’m part of them."
I glance down at the camera resting beside me on the couch, its familiar weight a comfort.
"I capture their laughter, their adventures, but I never feel like I’m living my own."
I shift on the couch, my knee brushing against hers.
The contact sends a jolt through me, and my voice trembles as I continue.
"Being stuck here with you is the first time someone has really seen me."
When I finally look at her, she’s studying me intently.
Her gaze feels like it’s piercing through me, making my chest tight.
The silence stretches between us, and then she whispers, "I see you."
I shift on the couch, my palms suddenly sweaty.
The fire crackles between us, and I clear my throat.
"Truth or dare?"
She bites her lip, considering, while absently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
The silence stretches until she straightens her shoulders and says "Dare" with a challenging glint in her eyes.
My heart pounds as I realize it’s my turn to push this connection further.
I wipe my hands on my jeans, stalling as I search for the right dare - something that won’t make things weird but might bring us closer.
I clear my throat and force out the words.
"Show me your midriff for the rest of the night."
My voice cracks slightly, and I instantly regret it.
Her eyes widen, and she tugs at the hem of her sweater nervously.
The fire suddenly feels too warm, and the silence between us is suffocating.
She looks down at her lap, then back at me with an unreadable expression.
I watch as her fingers fidget with the edge of her sweater.
I shift uncomfortably on the couch, my mouth dry.
"How high is midriff?"
Her voice is low, and she’s still tugging at the edge of her sweater, the firelight dancing across her face.
My mind races, trying to calculate the right answer that won’t make me seem too eager or too timid.
I stare at the cookie crumbs on my lap, unable to meet her gaze.
When I finally look up, she’s still watching me with a patient smile that makes my stomach flip.
I clear my throat and gesture vaguely with my hands, indicating just above her belly button.
She hesitates, then slowly lifts her sweater higher, revealing smooth skin up to her ribcage.
The firelight dances across her exposed midriff as she adjusts the fabric, her fingers trembling slightly.
I force myself to look away, pretending to be interested in the snow falling outside the window.
The cabin feels ten degrees warmer.
When I finally glance back, Emily has settled into the couch, her bare stomach rising and falling with each breath.
She pulls her knees up to her chest and asks me "Truth or dare?" in a voice barely above a whisper.