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100% How could I call it Love? / Chapter 2: II

Chapitre 2: II

It was a lukewarm afternoon and the young girl, together with her besties, went out for a walk out in the open.

After a snack in a cafè, gossipping about the latest news at school (a teacher bullying a handsome guy, a new popular couple, daddy's girl new dress), they took a tree-lined path leading to an old park.

It was mostly a big field, surrounded by pines, with a playground for the youngest ones and a closed playing field.

Inside this enclosure, a group of boys, from twelve to sixteen years old, was playing soccer.

Due to the incessant trampling and the state of neglect, there was almost no more grass on the field, and the shabby goals were covered in rust, with the paint detaching in pieces.

While they were making a racket for a possible foul, the girls where commenting cynically the appeal of every player:

-Yes, that blonde lock is stylish, but look at the hair: it's so greasy. It's like he didn't wash it for a month at least-.

-And James, then? He stinks!-

-What about his friend? It seems he doesn't have a washing machine at home: his t-shirts are always stained.That is: doesn't your mother do laundry sometimes?-

-You make me feel sick. Shut up! It's disgusting-.

-Ok, but you have to tell me why: why do they have to play such a dumb game?!-

-Because they are ALL dumbass. Don't waste your time trying to understand their little hamster brains-.

The girls burst out laughing out loud. They got up and kept on their walk through the poor park scenery.

The little town they were living in had really no attractions for such young and charming girls and hence they were shamefully forced to entertain themselves on their own. And walking around, chatting about trivial matters such as the ones just mentioned, was the only available entertainment.

The park was long enough to have a good stroll and the players quickly disappeared from sight.

Towards the park end, there was an unfinished building that was supposed to become a skateboard track. Backed against the cement construction, there was a group of people, wrapped in a thick curtain of smoke, speaking quietly.

The girls decided together not to get further close and settled for peeping from afar.

The conversation became more and more excited, murmurs ran through the group, little choked cries took turns one after another.

Yet, while her comrades were focused on their chatting, the only girl we should now be concerned about estranged herself from the others. She kept staring towards the one in the center of the group.

He was a very tall man, around twenty, with a thick head of brown, shining hair, worn back. He was wearing wide, black jeans, white sneakers and a gray hoodie.

The guy was leaning against a wall with consumed paint, his feet placed against the cement, a hand holding the cigarette on his lip. He was smoothly emitting smoke from his mouth, while talking with the other guys around him.

Her eyes were attracted by his sharp lower jaw, going down his neck, down on his strong shoulders, to reach the wide chest. She was able to recognize his well defined muscles through the fabric covering torso, arms and even legs.

Her eyes were unmovable from his superb figure, she was near to drool, imagining to be able to undress with her very eyes the handsome greek god standing there, as none was there, surrounding him, as if his light was enough to cover up all the others in the group and let him alone, to be admired with every glimpse from that jeune fille.

But her fantasy was not bound to keep on wandering on her own, because it was called back by a gaze from that wonderful creature.

Her heart skipped a beat, her breath caught in her throat.

"He's so perfect..." she thought, feeling the butterflies in her stomach, "Even one glimpse from him can make me feel so, so... I can't even manage to express all my... My relief, my deep joy!"

Their eyes linked for one, very second. Her butterflies intensified. Her hand reached to hold her stomach. She felt such a huge wellness, but at the same time she was likely to throw up her previous little snack.

She was still, there, frozen. She couldn't stand that tension anymore. She grabbed the hand of one of her friends and pulled her, to make the group come back.


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