Where do ducks go in the winter? by Matthew Hao

Katelyn had been short.

In the first grade, the most important thing was height.

If you were taller than me, we couldn’t be friends.

The next important thing was cooties.

Boys hung out with boys. Girls hung out with girls.

Yet, I didn’t have any friends.

I was taller than Katelyn.

It was perfect.

I met her on the playground roof.

The plastic was slippery underneath me.

Or maybe that was from my sweaty palms.

“Hi, Katelyn.”

I had picked up her name from the corner girls.

They were always gossiping.

They had a lot to say about Katelyn.

She shifted her hold on the roof to face me.

“What does that look like?”

She pointed to a cloud above.

“Looks like an eagle.”

She laughed.

“It’s a duck.”

I hadn’t been looking at the cloud.

“What’s your name?”

Startled, I looked down at my Sketchers.

“Ben.”

I could hear her smile.

“Hi, Ben.”

Junior Year is when I loved her.

Puberty. High School. A pretty girl.

It had been coming on for some time now.

However, I was scared.

Scared to make the first move.

Scared to ruin our friendship.

Scared she would reject me.

Every Thursday, we would buy whole-grain bread from Vons.

We would park on the edge of our local lake.

She said she liked the ducks.

The ducks were particularly hungry in the fall.

We had left late on October 25th, 2024.

The Vons we usually went to had closed.

There wasn’t much of a selection in 7-11.

We settled with Wonder Bread.

The sun had set by the time we got to the pond.

Katelyn couldn’t see a single duck.

“Next Thursday?”

I nodded.

She smiled at me.

It had started to snow.

The first snow of the year.

The snow started to pile on the road.

I could barely see ten feet in front of the car.

Next to me, Katelyn slept.

She looked so peaceful.

At ease.

I wanted her.

Needed her.

Ached for her.

But she would never know.

I couldn’t see the bend in the road.

I wasn’t allowed into the funeral.

Her dad nearly hit me when I showed up.

I was unceremoniously shoved out of the cemetery.

So I sat behind the cemetery fence.

Watching her casket being lowered.

I turned away before the casket hit the ground.

A root tripped me up.

I fell backward into a stream.

The rocks cut sharp lines down my palms.

Gasping from the cold, I struggled to my feet.

There, swimming toward me, was a duck.

A Mallard duck.

It stared at me.

And before I could move, the duck took flight.

The duck flew straight above my head.

Migrating to the south.

Looking for a better place to be.    

Matthew Hao (He/Him) is a high school Sophomore. He enjoys writing creative fiction and nonfiction. He has published in magazines such as Teen Ink, Beyond Words Literary Journal, the Scapegoat Review, and miniMag Literary Magazine. He is the Editor-in-Chief of the Crossroads Review, a youth literary magazine. He is currently gathering submissions for the Crossroads Review Spring Issue.