Call Me – 1

I was a teenager when I was young. Not like it was something special. I was just a sixteen with ordinary teenager problems;
I was insecure about how I looked,
I badly wanted to be the most popular guy at school and,
The girl I was crushing on had no idea about it. Teenagers don’t tell their crushes they are crushing on them, do they? See, I was a normal teenager.
However, there was something unique about me.
While the basic trio of friends we see on TV included two guys and a girl, I had two girls by my side-Joanna and Camilla-and they were the closest things I had to hommies. It wasn’t only because I hung out too much with the girls that the other guys termed me gay. I loved cooking, I loved doing the laundry and I was as neat as a pin. Even with all the dares I had performed to prove I was straight, the boys at school wouldn’t just peel the tag off my back.
I really wasn’t gay.
I enjoyed female company a lot-well, a little too much but I always battled an erection when a girl ran her finger down any part of my skin. How much more straight could I be? Maybe I should train to be less sensitive to tickles.
This particular day wasn’t about me though. It was early morning and we were hanging out at Joanna’s house. Her parents had been out of town for five days and I was nursing a slight headache from the hangover after the party last night. It was a good party and not the Project X kind of wild as I had awoken on the couch in the kitchen and not beside a burnt house. I came to face the door to the dining room and began to wonder what exactly I was doing on a couch in the kitchen. I got up and looked around. Considering the party we had last night, the kitchen wasn’t too much in disarray and that meant the rest of the house was very much not scattered. It had taken one hour of talking to convince Joanna to move all the upholstery and decorations into the inner rooms so nobody would break anything. I walked carefully, trying not to step on any disposable plastic cup as I made my way to the door. It was a short trip but hangovers have a way of multiplying distances.
I was glad I didn’t think the kitchen was too bad, for the living room was worse; I had enough space left in my mind’s threshold for dirt to absorb the state of the living room.
Papering the walls was also my idea; Joanna had taken it without a pinch of salt. The newspapers we’d taped to the walls were splattered with all kinds of booze. Most of the fruit punch I painstakingly made-I made a mental note never to make nutritional beverages for teenagers-ended up on the walls too. I didn’t want to identify the rest of the stuff I saw for vomit could be among the list. The floor was no better as I couldn’t even spot the real color of the tiles-that’s exaggerating it-but it could be cleaned up. I wasn’t going to step on the dirty floor without protection for my feet but then, Joanna was crawling on it, near the window. That part was relatively clean.
‘Are you serious right now? Joanna! The floor has ants crawling all over.”
They were no ants but it was good lie that would make her get up.
She didn’t get up and that was when Camilla came down the stairs.
“Hey, you have woken up. That means cleanup is about to start.” Her voice was breathy when she said this and it sounded like the beach. I allowed a few seconds to savor the sound of it as I looked blankly at her.
She was the one I had a grind-crush on.
Camilla was the sweet, curvaceous and fair-complexioned girl while Joanna was the darker, slim and supple friend of mine. Both girls were pretty but I had fallen and was crushing to pieces for Camilla because-hell, I’m a teenager. We cannot explain these things because there are a lot of changes going on in our bodies.
“Yeah, and look at that.” I pointed to Joanna. “It’s like she is hiding from someone.”
We watched Joanna raise her head and look outside the window.
Camilla let out a loud sigh.
“She has been stealing stares at a boy at the other side of the street.” Camilla said. “I think she has a crush on him.”
“Boy, where have I heard that one before.” My tone was sarcastic. Camilla shrugged with a chuckle. Between us, we could only term Joanna as a serial crusher and with her crushing pattern; I already had a mental image of the guy.
Camilla exclaimed much to my chagrin, when she got to the window and she didn’t stop staring.
“That is one specimen right there,” Joanna agreed with her. “Come on, and see.” Joanna motioned to me without taking her eyes off the view. I rolled my eyes and began towards them.
“Are you sure you want the competition?” Camilla whispered loudly enough for me to hear.
“Really, Camilla? You really took the cheap shot?” I said,
Camilla laughed; that sound I always wanted to hear and I completely forgot that she had implied I was gonna tussle with Joanna for her boy of attraction. It was Camilla, the love of my life, and I have to forget my hurt whenever she laughs.
I widened the curtain to allow all of us look on. I had nothing to say when I saw the boy. He wasn’t much of a boy and my mental image of a tall, young college undergrad shattered as my rusty age-placing skills numbered his age between twenty four and twenty six. He was mowing the lawn and had a white earpiece in his ear. He seemed oblivious to the sound of the motor’s roar and to us. His shorts were a dark cream color and his shirt was transparent. The dude was totally shirtless and I understood why Joanna and Camilla were transfixed.
“I feel so inadequate right now.” I said, shaking my head. The girls giggled.
“Thin, lean and scrawny human,” Joanna uttered.
‘Who are you to call me lean when you weigh 53 kilograms? I weigh a massive 65” I shot back.
“Idiot! Weighing much doesn’t mean you are fat. Weight lies in the bones. Yours are heavy.” Camilla interjected.
“Yeah, Camilla would know.” Joanna drawled.
We both stared down at her head sternly, and the same time.
I was wondering why the idiot had to mow a lawn shirtless. Mr. Mower was light complexioned. He wasn’t brawny but his abdomen was divided into a perfect set of six compartments and his chest seemed solid, something like the suit Batman wore. His hair, cut in a rough punk style, looked like a little lightened tint of black much like his facial hair that cover his jaw and joined perfectly with the sideburns. I calculated a week’s worth of growth on them. I wasn’t a girl so I couldn’t judge how attractive he was but gauging the way Joanna drooled invisibly, I knew he was the male version of Megan Fox. See, I am not gay.
Then he looked our direction,
The bolts that held the curtain rods threatened to break loose as Joanna dropped down immediately and Camilla shrank back. It was when they had begun to laugh that I realized I was still looking on. In that instant, I thought of what the story at school would be if I was caught staring at a more trim version of Arnold Schwarzeneger so I acted fast. I reached for the side of the window and pushed it open. That way, he’d think I’d been fumbling with the window and I wasn’t staring. I’d hate to think he too had marked me as gay.
With the window open, I turned around and called out to the girls that were laughing.
“Okay, you’ve had your fun. Can we stop boy-watching and get this place cleaned up?”
There must have been something on my face for their smiles immediately dimmed and they turned around and moved towards the kitchen. They reminded me of my younger twin sisters sometimes.
Camilla handled the kitchen as she had a flair for that part of the house. Joanna was upstairs doing something. I hoped she wasn’t boy-watching so I had to check up on her a few times to verify that the bathrooms were getting a good scrubbing. As for me, I took on the unwanted task of cleaning up the living room. I had to clean the gray tiles up and I identified a lot of substances; urine, vomit, pieces of a broken bottle of wine, ash belonging to burnt paper-I really didn’t care if the paper had wrapped marijuana before its death, I just wanted in the trash. The party had gone wilder than we anticipated but the neighbors hadn’t complained at all. Their kids had thrown louder parties besides; Joanna had taken permission from the families-well, her kind of permission. When she finished and came downstairs, we began to trade stories about the party.
I had something to prove so I had gone all party animal that night, dancing and creating life much to the irritation of the duo. I had an excuse, somebody had to control the hype that was being generated and I stepped in, controlling the excitement and trying curb the results. I couldn’t stop the alcohol but handled the screaming. I had wondered whether our neighbors didn’t mind the noise or they simply agreed with our party.
I didn’t quite remember how the party ended and neither of the girls was saying anything. I didn’t probe any further. They only told me that I had gone missing once and returned with lipstick smears on my face. I remembered every minute when I was missing but I didn’t tell them. I was going to look at how bad the hickeys on my neck and abdomen were. They hurt much but I didn’t mind. Nobody was going to believe I was gay after that party.



11 thoughts on “Call Me – 1” by Shagariii (@Shagariii)

  1. you write well…the descriptions are vivid and i like the informal way you wrote this…keep it coming

  2. Love d story,luking 4ward 2 d next installment

  3. loved the flow of the story

  4. Great read.
    The first line was not it, —- you have to be young to be a teenager,now it’s a given.
    Looking forward to the next installment.

  5. Nice, but sounded like a girl @ first. And now you’ve established the fact that you’re a teenager; there’s no need to keep saying it.

  6. Why do I have a feeling that you are writing a story based on the hit song ‘Call me maybe’ by Callie Rae Jepsen?
    The guy Callie was ogling as he mowed the lawn, turned out to be Gay.
    I wanna see how this one ends. Nice one, shagarii.
    Well done. $ß.

  7. lol…the dude has been living in the twilight friend zone!

    Nice. Your descriptive power makes the story realistic.

  8. Stole the story from the song sha, hence the name

  9. Quite intriguing.

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