In the morning, Kyle and I met at a coffee shop before going our separate ways to work. It gave us a chance to have a long chat about all sorts of things. It also gave Kyle a chance to embarrass the fuck outa me. He just couldn't resist being mischievous.
"My buddy says you've got cute tits," he calmly said to the young girl who was waiting our table.
I immediately gave him a kick in the shins under the table, and glared at him. But the girl, who looked like a schoolie working through the summer hols, gave me a sweet smile. After she'd taken our order, and gone to the kitchen, I glared again. "Fuck, Kyle, I'm gonna kill you."
"Hey, she's been giving you the eye since we walked in here."
"How can you say that? You've got no fucking culture."
"Hey, check the smile you got."
"I can't believe you did that. Do you know her?"
"Not yet. But her left tit's name is Sam."
"What are you on about?"
"Her left tit's got a name tag that says 'Sam'."
That brought an instant, if reluctant, smile to my face. "Fuck, Kyle... you're impossible."
Meantime, Sam blushed big time every time she approached our table, and it was pretty obvious that she was visiting us more than necessary.
"The girls will have a fucking fit if they find out about this," I said between Sam's comings and goings.
"'Cause they'll think we're hitting on the waitresses here."
"Crap. You're being paranoid. She's cute, though, huh? Reckon we could eat her out together?"
"Shhhhh, Kyle! The fucking people behind us can hear you."
"Cool. Check that old dude when he gets up from the table. He's gonna have a hardon just imagining us eating her dripping, wet, tight pussy."
"I'm going," I announced as I stood. "You're fucking crazy." But I couldn't help giggling at the way my lunatic bud was carrying on. Then Sam almost tripped in her haste to get to our table.
"Yeah, thanks," I smiled nervously.
"Do you two work around here?"
"Mark works at the harbor, and I work in a store," Kyle volunteered before I could get a fucking word in.
"You coming in again?"
As we left the coffee shop, Kyle told me that Sam was checking out my butt.
"Not fucking likely we're going back there," I giggled.
"I've gotta go or I'm gonna be late. Check ya later."
"What? No hug?"
"Fuck off, Kyle," I laughed before sprinting toward a minibus that would take me to the harbor.
OK, so I was aware of the stares I'd get from chicks... and not just chicks. I wasn't doing a zillion pushups and skips a day for nothing. And I wore clothes that complemented my chest, butt, and legs... as well as my 'furniture' as Kyle put it. But there was such a thing as being discreet. Polite. Not in Kyle's company, though. He was totally fucking outrageous. So why was I laughing?
I found out later from Kyle that, during her break, Sam had popped into the store where he worked.
"Is Mark attached?"
"Yeah, he is."
"Damn. And you?"
"Hmmm, second choice, huh?"
She giggled and shook her head.
"Yeah, I am," Kyle continued. "Nothing stopping us from being friends, though... specially seeing that you work close by."
"Cool. I'm having a party at my house next week. Maybe you and Mark can come?"
"You can bring your girlfriends. It's gonna be pretty wild."
Kyle told me that she lived in Llandudno, which was like a three-million-buck house neighborhood. No thanks. Not for me. Lots of rich, spoilt brats with too much cash and not enough brains. Not my scene. It wasn't Kyle's scene, either, so we decided to give it a miss.
"Hey, listen, we're both trying to save money. OK? So let's not buy any Christmas presents for each other."
Yeah, right. I couldn't let Christmas pass without giving Kyle something. But what? Hmmm. Surfing. It needed to have something to do with surfing.
Christmas Eve would've been a non-event if it hadn't been for Kyle's folks. They put on a small party at their place for a bunch of people, which included me and Carol.
"I know we promised each other that we wouldn't buy a present, but I had to get you a little something. It's not much."
I watched Kyle open the present. "Hey, a surf wristband! Cool!"
"It's got something embroidered on it."
"No fear," he said as he read the words, then looked at me. "Of what? A shark or a Mark?"
"Hey, I broke our promise, too," he grinned, handing me a gift. "It's just a little thingy... kinda... y'know... a small pocketbook type thingy. Nothing major."
I unwrapped the present and saw the book. Inside were quotes about friendship. And on the inside cover, Kyle had written the words, "To a special friend. Thanks for listening even when I'm not speaking."
"What am I gonna do with you?" I asked as I hugged him.
"You'll think of something."
"OK, OK... I think this book is pretty damn special. But what does it mean exactly?"
"It means thanks for understanding me."
"Not in a million years," I laughed.
Both Kyle and I got the same presents from the girls... sarongs. Sarongs? I was gonna swan around in a brightly colored sarong? Oh, well... Kyle was totally chuffed about his, but I was still a little undecided.
Later, we disappeared into the pool after stuffing ourselves full of food, and left the adults to their wine and convo. Steph was wearing a bikini that she looked totally fucking hot in. I was wearing a pair of Kyle's boardies, but only after I'd rejected his offer of white briefs. Hello?
"Kyle, I'm not that fucking drunk, OK? Whaddaya think's gonna happen when the white briefs get wet?"
"I won't look."
Actually, all the girls looked terrific... even little Candy who was wearing a one-piece swimsuit. Such a cute little bod, a fact which hadn't gone unnoticed by Wingnut. Horny little fucker. He was also wearing boardies, And Kyle? He was parading around in a pair of black Speedos, which hid practically nothing. And that was something Steph would get pretty mad about. It was OK at home, but on the beach in public? No way.
A few days after Christmas, my exam results arrived. Woohoo! I'd passed with a matriculation exemption, which meant I could walk straight into university. First thing I did was phone my dad in Joburg. He went totally ballistic about the news. So did my mom. Then I phoned Kyle.
"Hey, buddy. How's it going?"
"Mom and dad have just pulled out the champagne."
"Nope. I passed. Matric exemption! How hot is that?"
"Cool! Me, too. Hey, Kyle, I'm really glad to hear that you did well. I was kinda worried..."
"That I wouldn't pass? You weren't the only one, buddy. I'm totally fucking stoked."
"Me, too. For you, I mean."
We decided to celebrate our success on New Year's Eve, and get totally shitfaced. Unfortunately, the booze didn't do a lot for Carol and me. We had a helluva fight.
After dropping the girls home, Kyle followed me to my place like a puppy that didn't need a lead. My mom and shitforbrains had been away since Christmas, and weren't due home for a couple of days, so I invited Kyle in. Actually, I didn't. He didn't need inviting.
I went straight to my room and rummaged around in my underwear drawer until I found the joint I was looking for. Without saying a word, I headed for the courtyard, and lit up. Next thing I knew, Kyle was sitting behind me on the bench with his arms around me.
"Don't start, Kyle. Not now. OK?"
"Sorry. So what's up?"
"Let's not go there. OK?"
"Hey! I'm just trying to make conversation."
Yeah, right. Conversation. World War III had just erupted between me and Carol and he wanted to make conversation? I didn't bother answering him.
"Have I pissed you off or something?"
"C'mon, Mark. Fuck! At least talk to me or something?"
"Hey... can you shut the fuck up for a few minutes?"
"Cool. I'm gonna go shower."
Jesus! How the fuck was I supposed to figure that guy? By the same token, how the fuck was I supposed to figure myself? I could've told him to fuck off outa there. But I didn't. Why not? I was mad as hell about the fight I'd had with Carol... hey, I was mad as hell about a lotta things. So why didn't I wanna be alone? Fucked if I knew.
By the time Kyle had returned from showering, with a towel wrapped around his waist, I was laying on my back on the bench. I figured that was the safest position. He couldn't sneak up behind me and hug me. I was also smoking another joint, and drinking another drink.
"What are you drinking?"
"Vodka and orange."
"Thought you'd had enough?"
"I'm gonna jump on you if you don't stop your shit."
"Don't even think about it. Go put on some clothes. You're gonna freeze out here."
Instead of taking my 'advice', he walked up to the bench, threw a leg over me, and straddled me.
"Get off, Kyle."
"Get the fuck off me!"
Within a second, he was on his ass on the lawn. "I told you to get the fuck off! You never fucking listen!"
"Hey, I'm sorry. I'm gonna turn in. You got a spare mattress out?"
"Climb into the bed. Since when do you need a mattress?"
"See ya," he said as he got to his feet. He had hurt written all over his goddam face. Dammit!
"Yeah." I sulked. "See ya."
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