XRONIXLE

DANIEL VERASTIQUI

Published December 2007Copyright © 2007 by Daniel VerastiquiAll Rights ReservedISBN 978-1453885413Available in Print and DigitalThis book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events,

locales, or persons, living, dead, or digital, is purely coincidental.www.danielverastiqui.com

excerpt

The room was dark, lit only by a covered lamp somewhere off to his right. X felt

pressure against his lips, knew them to be C’s by the way they tugged at his mouth, by

the taste of the root beer flavored lip-gloss she had worn a few times before. They weresitting on the bed, each with a leg on the floor, each with the other bent inward,content in the awkward embrace. Somewhere in the darkness, classical music wasplaying, matching their intensity note for note.It was early in the relationship, only a few weeks beyond the moment that Xofficially expressed his interest for C. There had been several nights like this before,comprised mostly of kissing and the occasional correction of a stray hand. Despite herage in relation to his, X cou

ldn’t keep the natural thoughts out of his head. He desired

her, desired more than the taste of her lips. His hand ran under the back of her shirt, feltthe strap of her bra, and in one of his luckiest moments, managed to unhook it with asingle motion.

“Wait,” said C, disengaging. “Slow down.”

“What’s the matter,” asked X, removing his hand.

“What are we doing?”

X winced from the memory of her asking the familiar question, on the hill inJapan. But in the way the shadows fell on her face, he could see that she was simplytrying to stall; the words were irrelevant. Inside, he chuckled at himself, amused that hehad been thinking the same thing a moment before, though from the other side of thecoin. He switched modes as best he could, twisted the night to her viewpoint, and tooka quick look at how everything must appear to her. A mile from home, in the bedroomof an older boy, lights down low, music playing, and a very real possibility that if shescreamed, it would be a while before help arrived. Add in the touch-happy boyfriendand knowing how easily things could degenerate into sex, X immediately understoodhow overwhelming it was.

“We’re doing whatever you want to do,” said X, turning his body and placingboth feet on the floor. “And nothing you don’t want to.”

“I just,” started C, but words failed her.

“You don’t have to explain anything. I get you.” X stood, felt for the light switchon the wall, and flipped it. In the sobering brightness, the music didn’t sound as

romantic anymore, so he shut it off.

“Most guys don’t react very well to this kind of thing.”

X smiled, sat down on the couch, and put his feet up on the coffee table. “Andhow many guys have you had to tell this to?”