Ozwald

Chapter 4

4

You ask me if I keep a notebook to record my great ideas. I’ve only ever had one. –Albert Einstein

Ozwald decided to be a gentleman again and walk me home, but not after a promised stop and the ice cream shop and a quick detour at the park. Our conversation was mostly about music, because I didn’t want to be so easily tricked into thinking he had a rough childhood again, or even just a rough life.

“Ozwald,” I eventually brought up, “You like music so much, why don’t you start a band?”

“I’ve thought about it before, but who would start a band with me?” he asked.

“I would.” I confirmed. 

“Okay, that’s one person. Name three other people who might be in our band then.” he demanded. I shrugged.

“Rebecca, Tim, and Max.” I answered.

“Rebecca? She hates me, though.” he sighed.

“No...” I lied. Then I told some truth, “Well, she kind of dislikes you because she thinks of how humiliating it must be for me, to see you every day and know how you practically saw me naked...”

“Practically, but not yet.” he said. I just looked at him.

“But basically, she has no personal reasons.” I admitted. “She’d be in it for me then. I’d bet she could probably get used to you... eventually. And if you asked Tim and Max, they’re your two best buds. They’d join for sure.”

“And what instruments would we play?” he asked. I was getting into this.

“Well, you could probably do guitar, you seem like a guitar player. Or bass. Bass guitar. They’re so similar! Max does drums, as we know. And Tim could do... keyboard. Rebecca does guitar so I could do...”

“That leaves vocals and backup guitarist to be desired. I’d have to learn guitar but, yeah, I guess I do seem like the kind of guy to appear in random places with a guitar and strumming out Metallica songs. Or a lullaby or something.” he pointed out. I sighed. 

“I bet you have a great voice.” I suggested. He grinned and looked off. “What?”

“You’re not far off. I happen to sound very similar to Oran Lavie.” 

“Really?” I asked. “I doubt it.”

“Yeah, your right. I don’t sound anything like that. But I can still his plenty of high notes without getting off key. You’d be surprised.” he said.

“Really? Let’s hear it.” I asked.

“Well, we can’t do that here in the middle of down town, now can we?” he claimed. “The glass on all of the windows would instantly shattered and the birds would flock above the trees and swarm like bees when they’re not gathering honey until they realized the terror was gone. Then they’d fly back down to their peaceful wooden abodes. I, of course, would wait until they perched to sing much, much higher.”

“You’d make a good writer.” I commented. He shrugged.

“I’ve thought about it, but nobody’d read my stories. They’d be to pervy.” he admitted. I laughed in agreement. 

“I’d read them.” I offered. “But back to the band, what would we call this maybe to come formation?” 

“The STD’s.” he announced.

“What?” I asked. “You do know what that stands for... right? Of course you do. You’re pervy and probably have twenty of them yourself...”

“Stereotypical Teen Drama(s).” He cut me off. “And yes, I do have AIDS, HIV, and many other sexually transmitted diseases so you won’t even think about having sex with me without using a condom, yes?”

“Hah, hah.” I rolled my eyes. “HIV and AIDS are the same thing basically, just... They’re the same. You can’t use them as two different things. But yeah, if you look at STD’s that way, it could, possibly, mean Stereotypical Teen Drama(s).”

“Speaking of abbreviations and diseases, I have a little bit of OCD myself.” he said. “Not really, just it feels like that. Like now I feel like I really must kiss you.” 

He looked down at me and inched closer. We were chest to chest and nearly face to face. 

“This might have been romantic if you didn’t tell me exactly what was going through your mind most of the time.” I sighed quietly, smiling and looking up at him.

“Believe me,” he replied, “you wouldn’t want to know what was going through my mind most of the time, or probably all of the time.”

“What about now?” I asked quietly, grinning in what I hoped was kind of a naughty-sexy way. 

“Especially not now.” he chuckled. He wrapped his hands around me and massaged my back, working his fingers along my spine, feeling his way over and around my bra. Then he traced and tugged his fingers like he was trying to undo my bra. Was he trying to undo my bra? Suddenly it came undone. He jumped, his eyes widened, he was genuinely startled. For once, not in his cool zone. But quickly he put his hand on my back where it came undone and pinched it together, trying to make it look like we were just an ordinary couple walking through downtown at night. He was even whistling and his huge eyes were directed somewhere else. I laughed and fell into him on purpose, leaning against him as we walked. I only realized when we got to a one block point from my house that his hand had migrated from my back to my but, and might have been there for the majority of the walk without me noticing.

“Don’t pull anything funny.” I hissed in his ear. “You know what? We’re close to home. I can manage from here.” 

I pulled away, but then he leapt back to me in great bounds. He pulled my arm around so I was facing him and he kissed me on the lips for several seconds. Then he tried some tongue action and I bit on his tongue to let him know that wasn’t okay. Funny how someone else’s blood tastes in your mouth. His was different from mine, mine tasted sweeter. But interestingly enough, I liked his better. That was odd. 

“I have to go now.” he said, pulling away before I was ready. I reached back out to him. But, he was blushing. Why? “And uh, your parents are waiting.” I turned, and he was gone. There they were though. Sitting on the front porch staring at me over their glasses and newspapers or novels. To say the least, they were not very pleased.