A lone cicada buzzed in the still, hot
air, the sun burning into my skin until I swear I could feel the freckles
popping out. I didn't care. I'd spent the morning swimming in the river, and
now me and Michael basked on the bank, pleasantly tired. My stomach rumbled but
I was too sleepy and content to move to the bench where we'd stowed our bikes
and sack lunch.
"Can't believe school starts in a
few weeks. You ready, John?" Michael asked in the direction of the blue
sky.
Well…damn. Why'd he have to go and spoil
the moment like that?
"I guess," I said,
noncommittal. We'd be starting at the local high school this fall. New classes,
teachers…the locker room. My cousins told me horror stories of the gym's locker
room, the towel snaps on bare skin, stolen underwear, being shoved into lockers
by the older boys. They might have exaggerated. I hoped so. Middle school gym
had been bad enough.
And I'd still have to shower with other
guys. My face grew hot, having nothing to do with the heat of the day. I wiped
my sweaty palms on my shorts. Sighing, I stared at the brightness of the sun
against my closed lids and tried to regain the peace of before. The cicada's
tone changed but continued its incessant buzz, nudging me towards sleep. The
afternoon spread out before me with absolutely nothing I needed to do. Perfect.
"Ready for some of that
watermelon?" Michael asked after a moment.
"Not yet," I murmured,
stretching languidly, smelling the dry grass I crushed under my skinny body.
"Think I'll take a nap first."
It surprised me when Michael didn't get
up, his contented sigh warming my heart but also starting that little pang of
loneliness again. I peered at him through my lashes. Small, dark haired, kind
of plain looking, until he flashed that grin that made my heart jump and rush
and me wanting to join whatever mischief he had concocted in that tricky brain
of his.
As if he felt me looking, he turned his
head. We stared at each other a long heartbeat, then against all expectation,
he reached over and brushed his fingers against mine. Happiness came near
choking me.
We'd been best friends forever. Maybe we could finally be something
more.
And then that grin I lived for sprang on
Michael's pixy face. "Hey, want to sneak into that new film?
"It's rated 'R'. We'd get
caught."
"Nope! I know for a fact they keep
the back door propped open a bit for fresh air in the summertime. My brother
worked there last year and told me. They'd never know we were there."
I nodded, my heart singing. Things might
change when school started, but at this moment I had the rest of summer before
me with Michael to share it with.
Pic by One Good Eye Photography
Dianne is the author of m/m erotic romance, both
contemporary and fantasy, the psychological thriller, and anything else that
comes to mind. Oh, and a floral designer. If she can’t be writing, at least she
has the chance to create through the rich colors and textures of flowers and foliage to bring a
smile to someone's face. Currently, Dianne lives in the Willamette Valley of
Oregon with her incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the endless hours
she spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play.
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