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    Luiz
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Peter in Highschool - 7. Chapter 7 - The after party

November, 15/16th, 2008, Weekend.

The weekend started very lazy, slow motion, like a holiday… maybe it was holiday elsewhere.

When I woke up that morning, Nick was lying on the mattress, on the floor, beside my bed.

As I woke up, I looked at him. He was waking up as well. He was stretching and barely opening only one eye, with a kind of spent face.

“Mornin’” he said with a raspy voice.

“Hi.” I replied with a smile.

With that, silence felt the air. He was looking at my face, but his eyes were kind of tired, kind of reddish and he had this serious and peaceful face, this deep look, not the deepest because it was tired, but it wasn’t an ‘eloquent’ gaze, as it said nothing to me, just blank, maybe peaceful.

I didn’t think about being embarrassed and looking to another direction. I also was looking into his eyes, his messy blond longish hair, his reddish face soon in the morning, his partly open eyes…

We got like that, like for five minutes. He brushed his teeth and when he got back I was still lying in bed, very lazy. He put his clothes back on and said he had to go. He didn’t want to stay for breakfast. I had only my shorts on, but I went to the door, with him.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna stay for breakfast?” I asked, with a low tone, as everything was silent in the morning as the low sun was raising and the light was reaching the room right in the eyes.

“I really gotta go.” he said and took my right hand with his hand, not being clear whether he was taking my hand or shaking hands goodbye.

He had a small smile on his face and slowly let go of my hand. He took a minute holding the tip of my fingers on the tip of his fingers.

This got a light sigh from me and with this he went to his house.

As you can imagine, I reminded the night in my mind over and over again, but more than that, I got there, thinking why he didn’t mention anything. I got a buzz but I’m sure I could recall any small detail, like his narrow waist by the sunlight, the light nibble of his on my neck, the softness of his hair through my fingers, the sweet smell of his skin, the light taste of his shoulder on my lips…

Anyways, he didn’t say anything in the morning, but maybe and wisely it was for the best. I got the best night and memory of my life and it wouldn’t ruin our friendship… wouldn’t it? Ok, I couldn’t stop repeating that question over and over again through the day. I guess I got most of the day zoning out in the backyard thinking about it: Didn’t he talk to me and left in a hurry ‘cause things got weird between us for good? Ow, Peter, as you suspected, you did push your luck!

Well, when it was about five o’clock the only things I had done was having lunch and watching – zoning out over – some cartoons. Every time I put my hand on my chest and thought about Nick’s name or his face remained on the back of eyes my heart raced.

I should go to his place to see him again and check if he would treat me ok… maybe try a hug… another kiss. No, what if he didn’t want that, I don’t know if I could contain myself in front of his sweet smell, sweet features… Ok, I should call him to understand things clearly. Should I? Well, I decided I should call him.

“Mm… hello, may I talk to Nicholas, please?”

“Hi, Pete?” it was Nick “mm… Peter?”

“Is that a sniff? Are you ok, Nick?”

“A sniff… oh no, I just sneezed.”

“Do you have a cold, maybe, from yesterday?”

“Oh, no, I’m fine. And you, how are you?” he asked back.

“I’m fine.” I said. Peter, ask about yesterday! I was pushing myself, but for one minute I was listening to his breathing and I swear I heard one or two more light sniffs, maybe he just sneezed. And we said nothing, just with the phone in hand.

“So, I’m grounded.” Nick restarted the conversation.

“How come?!” I asked.

“Mom realized I drank last night and she says I can’t go out ‘till Monday.”

“Hey, man, that sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you have some place you wanted to go this weekend?” I asked.

“Mm… if you… ah, I mean… no.” he said. “Not really”.

“Mm… I see.” I simply said.

“So…” he started.

“What?”

“So, can we have lunch together tomorrow?... as usual?” he tentatively asked.

“Yeah, of course!” I replied.

“Mm… ok.”

“You know, I better hang up.” he said.

“Okay.”

“See you on Monday, right?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“And… we’re gonna have lunch together on Monday, right?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“You know, as I’m grounded you can call me back tomorrow… if you want to.” he said.

“Right.”

“Bye, Peter.”

“Bye.”

The rest of the day was boring, maybe because of a little headache due to yesterday’s buzz… And I didn’t mention anything about yesterday… well, Nick didn’t mention anything about yesterday.

***

“Hey, mom, it’s Sunday’s lunch. Is dad home for lunch?” I asked.

“I’m afraid he’s gonna be at work, in the hospital, until late.”

“Can I invite Nick over for lunch?”

“Sure.”

So I called Nick.

“Hello…”

“Hi, Peter.”

“Hey, do you wanna come over for lunch?” I asked Nick.

“Still grounded, remember?”

“Is your nose better?” I asked.

“My nose?” he asked back.

“Yeah, you were sneezing yesterday.” I said.

“No, I wasn’t sneezing. I’m fine, I guess…” he trailed off.

“Hey, sorry, mom’s calling, yelling you could say. I gotta finish mowing the lawn… she’s not really happy with me.” he concluded with a light giggle.

***

In the evening, Nick called me.

“Hello?” he said in a very low tone.

“Hi.”

“Peter?”

“Hey. Why are you whispering, like ‘hiding’?”

“I’m in my room and everything is silent.” he replied. “And, actually, I’m not supposed to be calling you.”

“Mom’s at the church or something, and dad’s watching a football match downstairs, on TV.” he continued whispering.

“You’re not supposed to be calling me? Why not?”

“Oh, sorry, it’s not ‘you’. It’s just that I’m grounded so I didn’t really ask but I suppose I shouldn’t be using the phone mmm… like in general.”

“Ah ok.”

“But, if you want me to call another time…” he started.

“No! It’s fine.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah, talking to you is always fine.” Damn, Peter, what are you saying?!

“He he, okay.” he giggled.

Silence again. Damn it. I hope everything is fine. It’s so good listening to his breathing, ‘though he’s grounded, it seems he’s ‘here with me’.

“So, are you going to school tomorrow?” he restarted the conversation.

“Yeah, sure. It’s Monday! Why?”

“Mm… nothing. Just askin’.” he continued.

“So, what did you think about the party?” he asked.

“It was pretty cool. Don’t you think so?” I replied.

“Yeah.” he said with a chuckle, like reminding of our buzz, our moment watching the stars, lying on the grass in the backyard.

“And about Friday, in general?” he asked.

“It was fine, I guess…” I said.

“Mm… I see.” he said and continued with a deep breath “So, what are you gonna bring for lunch, tomorrow, at school?”

“I’m bringing tuna pie and orange juice, I guess. Why? Don’t you have lunch for tomorrow? I mean, aren’t you grounded like you can’t eat… because of me… Gosh, I’m so sor…”

“Nooo.” he interrupted me. “I’m just asking.” he finished.

“I’ll bring pea pie and I’ll try to get a love apple too.”

“Mmm.” Interesting choice of ‘menu’, I thought.

“So, what are your plans for the night?” I asked.

“Hey, I have to hang up, I guess mom’s back home.” he said.

“Okay.”

“Bye.” I said.

“Bye.” he replied.

“Bye.”

“Bye.” he said and after two or three seconds he hang up.

***

That night, as I was lying down, in bed I was thinking about Nick, his hazel eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his soft lips that I could taste… his flat navel, his hairy legs, with so thin hair, his pale neck…

But, this time, despite getting a little horny, I was looking through the window and there was only a single blue star, very shiny in contrast with the black night sky.

I was thinking about how solitary the star was… just like me.

“Nick’s being casual about mm ‘things’ so should you be as well.” I was thinking and I made a vow that I wouldn’t bring the subject up if he didn’t. “I’m not gonna screw things up and *sob* losing the only friend I have.”

Well, that wasn't the most inspired chapter ever, but the story must go on... you see... mm.... I know there are some faithful readers who read things maybe as soon as I post but don't write me anything back (I mean, I guess... maybe it's not that good, but let's say it is) then I don't get to know... I know 'cause I used to do that for some time and well, I got the guts to write a reply or something like that and nowadays it's me writing... anyway, thanks again for you who are always so kind in your replies... I'm sure sometimes kinder than I deserve. Thanks.
Copyright © 2018 Luiz; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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I liked this chapter and the interaction between the characters. Well done Luis; keep them coming.

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The tentative day-after interaction between Peter and Nick rings so true.  Nice chapter, Luiz.  Pastel de atum, né?  I remember those.  Just FYI, it’s hard to translate that into English - because there really isn’t a good equivalent.  A closer match might be savory tuna pastry.

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3 hours ago, tesao said:

The tentative day-after interaction between Peter and Nick rings so true.  Nice chapter, Luiz.  Pastel de atum, né?  I remember those.  Just FYI, it’s hard to translate that into English - because there really isn’t a good equivalent.  A closer match might be savory tuna pastry.

Hey it seems someone is tentative to speak Portuguese lol. Thaanks for the kind words. Sure more than I deserve. O should be writing next chap but i'm tired...

Looking forward to listen more from you...it seems you ..so friendly 

Hugs if I may

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