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Parties were the thing that kids in Christian’s world lived for. Not just any kegger, but wild ones with people jumping off the roof of his house into the pool. All rooms occupied. Smoke in the air. Good times, good parties. That was what we were up to. Even when there wasn’t a big party, we’d make our own. And all too often, Jeff Hillman was part of them.
Jeff Hillman had gone to school with Christian since kindergarten, and their moms were best friends at the tennis club. Jeff had hung out with Christian before I came along, and he wasn’t about to budge because of me. Most guys with red hair bugged me. They were pasty and freckled. Even if they were built, there was something odd about a redhead’s body, all sweaty, spotty, white and muscular. Hillman, however, was good looking in terms of what many girls wanted. Unlike most redheads I’d known, he had brown eyes and was able to get a tan.
We were all sitting by Christian’s pool, drinking beer and shooting the breeze. I had just gone into the water for a swim. There is something to be said about drinking and diving. It’s fun, but your breath is out of alignment and if you’re like me, you breathe in a little pool water no matter how hard you hold your breath.
Hillman was laying on the chaise next to us, wearing swim trunks and nothing else, his skin glistening in the sun. No redness except for his hair. He was stroking his stomach, a rippled pack of muscles that less athletic men always put on their New Year’s resolution list. I stared at him while he was doing this, and he caught me.
“See something you like, Beck?” His hand stopped above his waistband, taunting me to look again. I turned my face away, horrified that my eyes had been lingering at his stomach. Christian laughed.
“I was just zoning out,” I said, putting my empty beer under my chair. That made four beers in two hours. Christian moved his hand to my thigh, rubbing it back and forth. It was now Hillman’s turn to watch. His eyes narrowed as he followed Christian’s hand up my leg, to my waist, and then to my face as he pulled my chin to his and gave me a kiss. Even when the kiss became heated, Hillman still watched, his eyes narrow and his face looking as if in a trance.
Not only was it uncomfortable, I thought he was weird to just sit there, unashamed of his rudeness. And then there was Christian, who thought nothing of it.
When we stopped kissing, I looked over at Hillman.
“See something you like, Hillman?” I said, thinking I was so brazen and strong, giving Jeff a taste of his own medicine, until he leaned forward and looked at me like Christian wasn’t even there.
“I do,” he said with a smirk. I looked at Christian, who shrugged and stood up to remove his shirt before diving into the pool. Hillman didn’t look at me again that afternoon.
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Hmm, interesting snippet… I have no idea yet what’s going to happen here, but there’s a fascinating dynamic between the three of them. I really like your description of redheads: “They were pasty and freckled. Even if they were built, there was something odd about a redhead’s body, all sweaty, spotty, white and muscular.” Nicely done!
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