I’ve been writing a lot, only day 9 and I’m up to 18k words. Â Some days I write more than 2,000 words. Â That means that for every chunk I’m posting here, there’s a lot more I’m not sharing. Â Which means there’s a lot more to the story than these little bits, but I figure this way y’all will have something to look forward to when I publish the book, right?Â
Without further delay, something new from Buddy and Desiree:
I walked home with that dark cloud over my head, daring anyone in the world to talk to me or even look in my direction. Â I was angry, hurt and confused. Â Last night had really happened. Â She had really kissed me and held me close and enjoyed it. Â I remembered the feeling of her lips, velvety smooth. Â The way she sucked and pulled at Â my mouth. Â It had only lasted a couple of minutes but it filled my memory. Â I stopped walking and leaned up against a big cedar. Â Staring up through the branches at the sky. Â I remembered the feeling of her hand on my neck, caressing my face. Â I remembered the way her body felt against mine, how sheâ€™d relaxed into me, and the heat that filled me as she pressed against me. Â I remembered the taste of her mouth and my mouth flooded in response. Â I needed to kiss her again. Â I never wanted to stop kissing her. Â I thought back on the day, of how I tried to get her attention during class, in the hall, at lunch. Â If that was how it was gonna be, if she was going to act like nothing happened, I wasnâ€™t sure I could take it.
A deep breath and a long exhale and I was back on my way home. Â Weâ€™d still have to finish our science project. Â So there was that. Â Even if she decided that what happened last night wasnâ€™t gonna happen again, Iâ€™d be able to spend some time with her on the project. Â Science class that morning had been torture. Â She barely glanced at me before huddling with her girl pack. Â The giggled madly about something and I blushed, thinking for a panicked moment that it was about me. Â But they didnâ€™t look my way, so for now it seemed she hadnâ€™t said anything.
My mom was working on someoneâ€™s suit jacket when I came through the door. Â She looked up and asked me how my day had been, which wasnâ€™t unusual, but she had a funny tone in her voice.
â€œA girl called… Desiree? Â Left her number and asked you to call her backâ€, my momâ€™s smile was genuinely happy and approving. Â She was always telling me I needed to make more friends. Â If she only knew.
I went into the kitchen, wishing that I had a phone in my room, not that Iâ€™d get much privacy that way, as small as our house was. Â I took the scrap of paper with Desireeâ€™s number on it (oh my god, I have her phone number now!) and dialed it on the kitchen phone. Â Then, as it was ringing, I stepped out the back door and closed it gently on the cord before sitting on the back steps. Â Thank goodness we had a long phone cord. Â Mom had bought an extra long one so she could be on the phone and at her sewing machine at the same time.
She picked up on the second ring, sounding out of breath and called out, away from the phone. Â â€œI’ve got it, Mom!â€
â€œHi, itâ€™s Buddy. Â My mom said you calledâ€ Â It was hard to speak as I was holding my breath.
â€œBuddy… I.. I need to talk to you, and not on the phone. Â Can you meet me at the grade school? Â Iâ€™m gonna ride my bike, I can be there in 10 minutesâ€, Her voice didn’t sound like her, she sounded worried, insecure and that just wasn’t Desiree LaConner. Â â€œPlease, Buddy, Iâ€™ll be at the play shed.â€
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