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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Friendship · #1145677
A story of feeling adolescence and being with each other.
         “Seriously… she’s the most beautiful girl… like, ever.” Travis looked off into the night sky, into the thousands upon thousands of stars, as if Jacqueline’s face was formed in the constellations.
         “How’s her tits?”
         “What?” Travis’ face came back to the group of fourteen-year-old boys around him.
         “I said her rack. How is it?” Will asked him.
         “Oh, come on,” Travis said. “Do you have to be so crude? I mean, we’re talking about the woman I’m in love with.”
         “Yeah, her and seven others.” Lonnie said and laughed.
         “Yeah.” Travis said, smiling. “What about you? Who do you like, Lon?”
         Lonnie looked at the ground abashedly and smiled. “Oh, Katie, still. But you know, I’m too fat to catch somebody like her.”
         “Yeah right,” Will said. “You know she’s totally into you. The way you guys flirt is horrible.”
         Lonnie laughed. “Whatever.”
         “Yeah, well, a car’s coming,” Dan said. “I can see the lights over the crest of the hill.”
         The four boys took their positions on the street, lining up in a row: Will, who was gangly with shaggy blonde hair, Lonnie, who was overweight with thick brown hair and glasses, Travis, who was tall with long brown hair, and Dan, who’s wavy hair hung down into his eyes, and skinny body arched just slightly from lack of calcium replaced with caffeine.
         The car came over the hill and collectively the boys did something altogether beautiful: they danced. Adrenaline shot through their bodies and they skipped and jumped together in the twinkling beams of the headlights. For those thirty seconds, they were immortal.
         A spontaneous yell broke the dance as they ran to the alley in the back. Time no longer existed for them. Everything was a slow adrenaline-rushed ballet, mixed with fear, excitement, and companionship. As the car passed, the driver bewildered with the night dance, the boys laughed at their ballet with death. This night was life… the collected embodiment of all they had, their last chance at being anything close to pure.
         Finally, the adrenaline dropped as the boys resurfaced from the dark alleyway. They rushed to the fridge and grabbed a soda, pumping their bodies full of sugar.
         “God, that was a close one.” Will said as he chugged the last of the Mountain Dew.
         “Yeah right,” Travis said, “You were the first one to run.”
         “Whatever, you bastard.” Will said, and laughed.
Time passed without anyone saying anything, they were in a happy silence. Finally, they decided that they should get on the street again, so as not to miss the chance for another show. The streetlights exploded into the night, the center of their own swirling universe. Their talk once again came around to girls, when Will spotted something over the horizon.
         The boys’ bodies tensed, as the sugar took hold of every limb, and adrenaline blurred the hands of time, once again everyone was lost. The car crested the hill, the headlights blazing through the darkness of the night, and Dan began the dance. He jumped up and down, waving his arms, and the boys followed suit. Their voices were a mixed chorus of shouts and taunts: they fueled the car, and kept each other strong.
         The lights became blinding, but this time no one ran. They were fused together in something that could not be broken. With eyes closed in the impending doom, in the flood of headlights, in the bite of the autumn wind, they were free to unlock themselves, and everything else in the world bled into the night.
         Again, the dance was stopped when the car started to get closer, starting to rev its engine at the dancers, and the four boys ran to the alley.
         When they were sure that the car was passed, and they were safe, the boys came forth from the alley. Another soda was grabbed, more sugar consumed, and talk resumed once again of boyhood crushes, of falling for a girl for the first time. Thinking of their women
         This one’s for you…
         the dance continued into the night.
© Copyright 2006 PaulFinch (paulfinch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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