Evening, All. On my way out of the door to work, but wanted to quickly post another excerpt from Facets. It's from a story called Epiphany. Read and enjoy, leave a comment...retweets or repostings are welcome.
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I love her.
When I woke up this morning, it was as clear as crystal and impossible to ignore. I was in love with Adrienne McCarthy.
Of course, it would help if she knew.
I’ve known her since her family moved in the house three doors down back in freshmen year. She’s short and brown haired with twinkling blue eyes and a personality to match. From the moment we met, we connected and had an ease around each other that was freaky, but way cool. It was like we’d known each other for years.
We did just about everything together. So much so, people thought we were a couple. It became a running joke between us. Lately, I’d stopped thinking of it as a joke. I missed her when I didn’t see her and wanted to hold her close when I did. The need to tell her burned inside me, but I was afraid that she’d laugh in my face and I’d feel like a microbe. So, I kept it to myself.
Last night, we went to this party to celebrate the end of the school year and Adrienne had on a killer outfit. (A halter, hip-huggers and stack heeled boots. Woo-hoo!) Her hair was up with a few well placed strands framing her face and she looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen her. We danced kinda dirty on the fast songs, but things got deep when a slow song came on.
“May I have this dance?” I asked.
“Oooh, check out Mr. Smooth.”
“Always.”
We started out at arms length. By the time the song was over, our bodies were pressed together, our arms were wrapped around one another and her head was on my chest. Time stood still and my heart soared. The music stopped and, reluctantly, I let her go. There was a long, quiet moment, pregnant with all kinds of feelings and words that neither of us knew how to express. It was all in our eyes, though.
Unfortunately, my watch said that I was in danger of violating my curfew and getting ripped by the parental units.
“D’you have to go?”
“If I don’t, the ‘rentals will wig.”
She pouted. Then her smile dazzled me as she said, “Fine. But you’ve got to call me tomorrow when you wake up. I’m serious!”
“Okay, I will.”
“First thing tomorrow!”
“Yes, Mother.”
She lightly punched my arm. “Whatever.”
She walked me to my car and, to my surprise, she kissed me. It lasted all of three seconds, but it felt like forever enveloped us while our lips touched. It was over way too soon, and she bounced back to the party. But not without a last glance and a wave before going back in.
When I went to bed, I had a smile on my face at least a mile wide.
I cleaned up the mess and picked up the phone. As I dialed, a quiver of fear fluttered inside me. I quelled it and chalked it up to fear over a possible rejection. Even so, I was still going to tell her. I had to. I had no other choice. I wondered what she wanted to talk to me about?
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mr. McCarthy. Can I speak to Adrienne?” There was a long pause on the line. The quiver became a buzz.
“Mr. McCarthy?”
“I’m sorry, Jeff. She…she’s not here. Adrienne…died in a car crash early this morning.”
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