Wilt

Chapter 1: The Cloud Appreciation Society

The bitter cold grasped at Gen, but the only exposed skin it could assault were the tips of her fingers and her cheeks, which were flushed a vibrant red. Not that Gen noticed, her fingers were exposed so that she could grip her favorite ballpoint pen in one hand and smooth down the pages of the notebook she had balanced on her knees with the other hand. She was scribbling furiously on the last page of her notebook. Before she went to her afternoon classes she would need to retrieve her emergency spare from the backseat of Briony's car.

    In the bookcase in her room there were stacks and stacks of these notebooks crammed tightly together, and although she didn't have DANGER: KEEP AWAY tape slashed across them, neither her father nor her brother dared look inside. She supposed that they, like everyone else, assumed that Gen was just an especially dedicated journal keeper. She let them, the truth was so much more embarrassing.

    She wrote down her dreams. At least that's what she told herself. The only other explanation for visions of past lives Genevieve had lived would have her institutionalized. Her latest entry erupted from her pen the same way the others had been for years.

    "Have you been waiting long?" a voice hissed in her ear breath warm against her neck, and unbidden, Genevieve felt her skin hum with pleasure. She spun around and punched him lightly in the shoulder.

    "If I said no would you believe me?" she asked. Truthfully she had been standing in the quarry for the better part of the hour. The boy in front of her stretched his arms lazily and let his smile crawl across his face when he saw her appreciating the way his lean muscles moved under his skin. "I can't help it," she admitted, "I've been wanting this for ages."

    "That's what they all say," the boy said huskily, and she could see that he enjoyed the way she blushed, even in the semi darkness of the moon.

    "As though you would know," she shot back. They had grown up together and she knew, as well as she knew her own history, that he hadn't come close to being with a girl.

    He placed a hand on his heart and staggered back, "Genevieve, you cruel woman." He sniffed, "I'm not sure I feel up to teaching you anymore."

    She threw her hands up in mock defeat. "Fine! You are the Casanova of Haslemere. Tales of your conquests are sung from the rooftops."

    "Are there sonnets to depict my incredible beauty?"

    She nodded gravely. "Tons."

    "Okay," he said, his teeth shining as he smiled down at her. "Calm down, I get it. I'm irresistable."

    He reached out a hand to her and she took it. Holding his hand felt right in a way that nothing else in her life so far had. Since her father had died in the war her mother had barely been able to hold it together and keep her job. As soon as Genevieve turned 18 she would be sent off to secretarial school to help provide for her younger brother. Gen didn't want to think about leaving Haslemere, especially not now when he was drawing her closer, his other hand fitting into the curve of her waist.

    In the shadows of the quarry they swayed back and forth, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. Gen squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could freeze time and stay here, safe in his arms. When she opened her eyes they were in the stars, floating high above Haslemere. She could see the river curling lazily around the village, the Hadlock Manor nestled in the woods, even the paths that led through the forest and ended at her home. In the woods a fire flickered to life and Genevieve glanced at the boy fearfully. His eyes went dark and she felt them begin to sink down to the quarry once again.