Copyright 2013 Camille Leone

This story is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are invented by
the author or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any similarity to
actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in form or by any means
without the prior written consent of the author.



J ust this once and nothing more . . .



She let me touch her head scarf, and ever so slowly I slipped it off her face and neck until
the top part fell backwards, pooling around her shoulders. Her eyes were wider than I’d ever seen
them. With shorter hair the shape of her head was perfectly round, matching her beautiful oval
face.
“You’re . . . you’re so pretty,” I whispered. “You didn’t need all that hair, you’re just as
beautiful without it.”
It was true. With those hypnotic dark eyes and her sweet face, and when her chin began
trembling I bent down and cupped her cheeks, drawing her to me in our first kiss. She was so
tense that I leaned back, asking if she minded me kissing her. She put her hand up to her
forehead, like she needed to check to see if she had a fever. Between mumbling to herself and
swallowing hard, I thought she was about to faint. Just when I thought she was ready to tell me
this whole thing was a very bad idea, and my heart was thumping so hard that it threatened to
bust outta my chest like one of those creatures from Alien vs. Predator, my agony finally ended.
“I want you to-to kiss me . . . very much,” she said in that soft, almost musical tone of voice.
“But just this once . . . and-and there can be nothing more”
“Then open your mouth.” I had to chuckle, because she opened wide enough for me to see
her tonsils. Using my thumb, I closed her lips just a bit. “I need it open so I can put my tongue
in.”
There was confusion in her eyes, so I asked her to trust me. I told her if she didn’t like me
kissing her that way we could try it with our mouths closed. She let me slide my tongue all the
way in as I pulled her closer to my body. I think she was shocked when we touched, because she
didn’t try to push me off until we were sandwiched together and I kind of went overboard with
my tongue. When we parted we both had to wipe our mouths. The look she gave me was what
the kids call a stink face, so I knew I’d blown it.
“It’ll get better the more we do it. This was just our first time,” I promised, hoping there
really would be a next time, refusing to believe this would be it and nothing more. What was
wrong with me? At ten years old I’d kissed a thirteen year old girl. I got my cherry popped when
I was fourteen with a woman over half my age. I knew what to do, and how to make a female
moan out my name. Yet here I was, fumbling my words cos I was so excited, I was barely able to
meet Aaliyah’s eyes. I dunno why I kept feeling guilty, like I had a stiff one going in my pants as
if I was some damn pervert when I wasn’t. Shit. I couldn’t blame her if she walked out on me for
that sloppy ass kiss and how I was looking all around, thinking Allah would buddy up with Jesus
and they’d strike me down for touching her.
The auditorium door opened and a slice of light shone from the seats in back to where we
were standing behind the curtains on stage.
“Who’s in here?! Is anybody in here?”
If I hadn’t put my finger up to Aaliyah’s lips I think she would’ve answered. I shook my
head and silently mouthed the word “no.” Both our hearts were racing as the Assistant Principal
hollered, “You there! Both of you, get over here. Stop running in the hallway!” The light was
snuffed out as soon as the door shut, and we could hear two very scared boys trying to explain
why they were were tearing through the halls.
As our foreheads touched in relief, I gave a nervous laugh. “That was close.”
“We should have stated that we were here.”
“Huh?”
“Mr. Hoffman . . . he is in a position of authority, and he is an elder. We should have told
him we were present.”
“Hoffman’s a dick. Plus I know the kid he buys weed off of when he’s not acting like the
ruler of this fuckin’ school.”
“Why do you treat the teachers and the head master with such disrespect?”
“Cos he’s an a-hole. And he’s not the head ─ whatever you said. Miss Davies runs this
school and the rest of these teachers act like they hate teaching. Plus they could do a lot more to
stop those assholes who keep bashing you guys, but they won’t, because half of those kids are
their favorites. But they’re not God. They cain’t tell us what to do.”
Because of Hoffman the spell was broken. Aaliyah pulled up her head scarf, and her whole
demeanor changed. She lowered her eyes and I could barely hear her voice. “Please don’t hate
me, but I must never do this again.”
“So you’re back to being the good little Muslim, huh?” My intent was the hurt her, to make
her feel just as frustrated as I was right now. Instead of answering me back, she mentioned how
much she loved the flowers I’d sent. But I couldn’t let her just leave so I grabbed her arm. “You
think any of this is about hate? If what I’m feeling was anywhere near hate, at least I could
understand it. I don’t get why I’m all twisted inside whenever you don’t look at me. And then if
you do, the pull is so strong I’d walk off a cliff if you asked me to.” I wanted to tell her it was
like getting hit by a wave when the undertow catches hold, and there’s nothing a swimmer can
do ‘cause you don’t have to strength to go against it. But I wasn’t gonna be some pussy who got
on his knees, begging her not to go. I’d be a man about it, only somebody, anybody, was gonna
get punched out when I left here. “Aaliyah, damn . . . what am I supposed to do? I don’t know
what to do.”
She dropped her arm, or maybe I finally turned her loose. I let out a groan and watched her
as she headed for the exit, like what I said didn’t mean nothin’. And that’s when I . . . hell, I
really lost it.

Thank you for reading this excerpt. This is a fictional story that delves into the tensions and
history between the Somali and Somali Bantu. It also contains scenes depicting the culture clash
between Africans and African Americans.

For more excerpts and the release date of this book, please go to http://wikkidsexycool.com