That Guy

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
A guy enters her life, and takes away her breath...
Before revailing his true self...

Submitted: May 15, 2008

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Submitted: May 15, 2008

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"OMG! Did you know that Mark had dumped Janice?” Broadcasted big-mouth Bea
 
"NO!!!! Tell me all 'bout it", I exclaimed sarcastically.
 
It's a sunny day; the weather was getting on my last nerve. I was thirsty, hungry and angry. I wanted to save my strength but I could see how enthusiastic Bea was, so I encouraged her. 
 
Bea looked at me, surprised. "Do you really want to know 'bout it?"
 
"Yes. Sure, why not?”
 
A smile sweetly crept onto Bea lips. Then she started talking two to the dozen
 
I ignored ev'ry thing she said. Went into my daily day-dreams.
 
...Standing on the stage, being the centre of attention. Wearing a glistening, short white dress with a small flat shoe.  No major jewellery, just a pair of diamond earrings with matching diamond necklace. No make-up needed to highlight my pure, natural beauty. Just lip-gloss. All eyes laid on me, gazing at me with admiration. Waiting to hear my angelic voice. The pianist begins to play softly. I sway, getting into the music. Humming the familiar tune. I'm waiting for my queue. It finally comes. I sing like I had sung all my life. The audience drugged, swaying with me like they had never heard it before.  Suddenly a flock of birds flew into the scene and started chirping the song with me. Their sweet tune makes my voice sound even better. The audience clap enthusiastically. Not wanting to stop! They threw flowers, whistled, clapped....
 
A loud drone of laughter brings me out of my victory. I turn around, stand in front of Bea. I want to ask why she was laughing. But she wasn’t focusing on me. Her eyes wide open, mouth hanging like an open door, she dropped her bag. 
 
"What’s wrong?" I begin to get worried. Thoughts swarmed through my head. "Has she had a panic attack? I don’t know what to do? Should I call her mother? What...? 
Slowly she used her free hand and points. She is entranced by something on top of the hill. I turned around.
 
...coasting down the steep hill, a guy, around my age on the KHS flagstaff bicycle was furiously speeding towards us.  He had removed both feet from the pedals and was swinging his legs as if he was a pelican. His speed reducing. He was focusing on a guy standing a few feet down the road from Bea and me; right in the middle of the road. He was throwing instructions at the guy on the bike like daggers. They both let out a loud laughter. As the bike passed us, the rider briefly glanced at my direction. Within a second he looked back at me, not breaking his stare this time. I grinned. As he was about to return my grin, he crashed into his friend.
 
A gasp escaped my mouth. I ran over to check if the boys were okay. I reached to the stilled boys. Concern overtook me yet again.
“Bea? Bea, give me your phone” I commanded desperately’ “We have to call an ambulance”
I became on auto- pilot. I grabbed Bea’s phone, pressed hastily on the key-pad. Nothing was happening. I realised was the new phone Bea was talking about. I shouted at Bea.
“Where’s the SIM card?”
It was time to panic. Abruptly, I searched quickly for my phone in my bag. I scrambled the contents in my bag. After looking thoroughly, I still couldn’t find my phone. I tipped out the things inside till my phone dropped out.
I was about to dial 999 when I started to hear snickering.
I looked angrily at Bea; she was also in shock. She wasn’t laughing. I wasn’t laughing. There were no passer-bys. Who was laughing? It dawned to me that it was the boys who were hysterically laughing. They were trying to sit-up, clenching their stomach.
Anger washed over panic. Furiously I lunged at them, kicking and punching, clawing. The boys raised their hands in defence. Bea got hold of me, and drew me back.
“Sam! Sammy!! Calm down”
I shrugged myself from Bea’s grip. Picked up my bag. Walked over to my things and started shoving them back inside.
“Sorry!” a deep but sincere voice said behind me.
“Well you should be”, I snapped. I finished packing my things not caring if it was really untidy. I tried to stand up but slumped back down.
Footsteps hastily approached me. Strong hands gripped my shoulders and pulled me up. The smell of perfume swept off my senses. I clenched the person’s shirt to help me stabilize myself. My stomach tightened as I felt his body against mine: the build of an athlete.
 
“I really am sorry,” he said, looking into my eyes as if he was searching for forgiveness.
Ohh mii God!  His facial features were practically taking away my breath. He had short, roughly trimmed hair; coal-dark lashes; broad, intelligent brow; the sharp piercing blue of his eyes and the carved lines of his mouth. On the bike, he looked cute but now he is blatantly handsome.
“Of course you are,” I croaked.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“No more than reason,” I said as I recited her favourite line from Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing.
He narrowed his eyes and still looked at me. He moved closer, bent his head and said
“Will this help,” he murmured, his breath was warm and an inch away from my lips...
I perked up my mouth ready to let him savour my lips. As seconds drew closer, I closed my eyes.
Seconds turned to minutes, I peeked through my eyelids. What is he doing just staring at me.
 
 “I’M GAY…”
 


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