An LGBT novel.
THE ROAR OF THE CHEERING CROWD.
Val Wash is one her school's best soccer players.
She's charming, smooth talking and can get out of trouble with ease.
At least that's how it was in the past,
but now her heart's affection refuses to...
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It was late afternoon, almost evening. But to be honest, I never quite knew when the afternoon ended, and the evening began. The white drapes by the window billowed in the breeze. I popped a fake cigarette between my lips.
Naomi lay on my bed in a white dress with a rather large cut in the back that showed off her ivory skin. Too much skin if you asked me. I wanted to touch it, let my fingers linger on the gentle dip of her back. But that would be weird, wouldn't it? As her female friend, I wasn't allowed to touch her that intimately, was I?
My eyes surveyed the rest of her body; slender straps adorned with flowers curved around her shoulders. Her auburn hair rested in a neat plait on her back.
Compared to her, I looked like a news reporter dressed in a white dress shirt, tapered pants, and suspenders. I sat on the edge of my dresser, pretending to smoke. Golden rays from the sun leaked through the window and warmed her body.
She said, "Why are you coming to this thing anyway? You hate dances and parties. Actually, you hate anything that requires you to be social."
She looked at me with those dark, brooding eyes she had acquired with age-eyes filled with suspicion. And perhaps, she had reasons to suspect my intentions because I was by all intents, a devious person.
I told her, "I like soccer. Soccer is pretty social."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you guys get so much talking done during games. Hooraw for soccer. Hey, pass the ball. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot!"
I chuckled and went over to the bed. I lay on the comforter next to her, rested my leg atop hers. She moved her head over and rested it on my chest. My heart was ready to burst out its gate and start racing, but I imagined being splashed with a bucket of cold water, and suddenly those feelings quieted.
Her hair brushed my chin as she raised her head. She held her phone in front of her, texting someone. She said, "You're as flat as a board."
I said, "Because you always squash them?"
"Babe, they were never there to begin with."
"Damn. I felt that one."
She laughed and said, "You're going to be mistaken as a guy again. That's my father's clothes, you know? Are you sure you don't want to wear a dress?"
"With this handsome figure of mine? I would look like a man in a dress."
She chuckled. "Yeah, sort of."
"See? You do wonders to my self-esteem."
"When did it become a crime to agree with someone?" she asked, taking the mock cigarette from between my fingers and putting it into her mouth.
Her eyes sparkled as she pretended to blow out a cloud of smoke.
My chest tightened with desire and regret. I didn't want to feel this way about her.
