11

Date Interrupted

“Pleeeeeease man, don’t be a pussy, okay?” A viper hiss shot out of my mouth and into the emergency mobile, a startlingly low and desperate frequency forced from my throat. It’d rung ten separate times, off the hook, vibrating my leg, tightening up my chub rub, until K smiling lightly, had tilted her head forward so her Ray-Bans slid expertly down her nose as she nodded.

“Ignoring someone?” she arched her eyebrows and I was forced to answer, “No one more important than you,” as I took the call. She slunk away casually as I turned around, settled herself in the hot grass on her back like a cat, waiting to have its belly rubbed. I had a perfect view of her tits, sticking up towards the sun, beautifully round like circular mole hills.

“You’re just aching man, come on,” the heat was getting me. “You know, like acid build up or somethin’.”

I fished out another ice cube from my paper cup, pressed it against the roof of my mouth with my tongue, never taking my eyes off K’s body, watching her legs, two tanned smooth sides of meat, along with every other Tom, Dick and Harry.

“I’m not making this shit up,” Ben was moaning, his voice panicking in a way I’d never heard before, the sound unsettled me.  “Something’s seriously wrong. I can’t feel anything down my right leg.” He waited a moment and I could hear how quick he was breathing. “I’m paralysed.”

“You’re not paralysed,” I swallowed the ice and it was just large enough to stab me in the gullet.

“I can’t feel my right bollock,” his voice rose in little clips of alarm, “man I can’t even really feel my dick.”

I watched how the sun bounced off K’s knees, ricocheting off all the eyeballs, the stickiness of the heat.

“Put some ice on it,” I crunched the last of my own, some guy started dancing between her and the light, making shadow puppets skank across her cheeks.

“This isn’t a frozen peas type situation,” Ben’s voice got even higher. “That’s what I’m saying, I need like a medic or something.”

The guy squatted next to K, pointed out something in the sky that I strained to see. K propped herself up on her elbows to take a look but all I could notice then was how close her face was to his crotch.

“Isn’t Rosa around?”

Ben sucked in the air. “Are you kidding me?”

“Okay, okay,” I wasn’t winning, “I’m coming, yeah? Just give me ten or so to get over there.” I shifted from my black square of shadow, the corner of the ice cream van I’d been leaning into. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“You’re so funny,” Ben muttered before hanging up.

God damn it Ben. The guy, white wife beater on, flexing what he must have thought was muscle, continued to point and then said something into K’s hair.

“Alright?” I cast a long and hefty shadow, trumping his, territorial pissing soaking us both. The dude twitched, backed up and rose slowly full of fake and casual calm. “I gotta go help Ben. He thinks he’s broken his leg or somethin’.”

K moved back down from her elbows, stretching flat on the grass, her top riding higher, belly button exposed, bedded down in a warm spot.

“Cool.” I couldn’t see her eyes behind the Ray-Bans, “I’ll be here.”

You won’t be here, I’ll come back and you’ll be gone. The guy was hovering like a fly on fresh shit, sensing the opening.

“Yes?” My hiss was sharp. The guy shrugged, “Alright mate, alright” he held up his hands and wandered away.

“You don’t have to do that,” K said, even though l couldn’t see her eyes, I noticed how her lips tightened as she said it.

You know where I’m camping but I don’t know where you’ll be.

She didn’t say anything else so I said, “Okay, see you in an hour then,” and, feeling hot, frustrated and so motherfucking angry with Ben, I stalked away.