Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
For you - 2. Chapter 2
Rhys wasn’t a complete stranger. I had carefully picked him specifically. We’ve known each other for a couple of months. Well, known might not be the right word to describe our relationship—acquaintanceship. We bandy words now and then when we meet each other—mostly at parties like that one.
The blocks of buildings passed the windows on my way to work while I was thinking about last night. There was no denying that Rhys was good-looking—not a model or something, yet still everything but ugly. As far as I know, he had been with girls before, but that never seemed to last very long. I wasn’t surprised about last night. We already casually made out at parties two or three times before—that’s what you do at these parties when you are still young: have fun, right?
Rhys texted me a week later. It was a short message. It read: “Wanna hang?”
Ordinary as it sounded, Rhys and I hadn’t texted before, just like we hadn’t had sex before. I couldn’t tell if there was a hidden meaning behind the message, but I was intrigued to find out, even though, I had plans later this day.
Later that day, he sent me coordinates where he’d meet me. I wondered what I might find there. It was a bit out-of-town, but there wasn’t much traffic, so I made it there in just about half an hour. It was a beach area and I still had no clue what this was about. I had been here before, but that was years ago. When I approached the coordinates, I found Rhys on a volleyball field. He wasn’t alone. I was unsure whether this was a good or a bad sign. But I was willing to play along—both literally and metaphorically. In high school, I had played volleyball for a few years, and I was a quite moderate player.
We played round after round and I couldn’t complain—neither about our scoring (we were in the lead with 21:18, but of course, it was more about the fun than who won) nor about the view. Birds of a feather flock together, they say—rightfully so. All of them were eye candy and our win was sometimes at risk for a second because of the distraction, but I never stared at anyone.
After the game—we won hairsbreadth—his friends wanted to have a few drinks at one of their houses and invited us to come.
Rhys turned to me and whispered: “I would like to spend time with you alone better. Maybe a shower …”
I had to decline and told him about my plans, so we departed in different directions.
- 17
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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