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A Simple Life: Chapter 119
🕑 Added 2024-02-20 21:15:43 +0000 UTCTo my surprise I find that I am something of the man of the hour when I arrive at work. Popping in the day before with Winona had set chins to wagging. I hadn’t realized that my coworkers even noticed me enough to bother talking about me or my life. But, small town folk that they were, talk they had. Those that had been here gave me compliments on how striking Winona was and told me how cute we were together while those weren’t asked questions on how we met and such things. Most were nice but not all of the queries and comments were said with good intentions, at least two were surprised to see me with a woman at all. I wasn’t sure if the insinuation was that I was gay or that I was an incel, either way I pretended not to notice their meanness as I usually did. Though it lasted only an hour or two it felt strange being the center of attention, and I cannot say that I enjoyed it, but I was only too happy to brag about my wonderful new girlfriend.
Once that had all played out and I am well into the regular rhythm of my shift I find my mind once more drifting to the subject of my paternity. Every Caucasian man that came in between the ages of forty and seventy I would look at and wonder. I’d see them as the men they were and what I imagined they were over twenty years ago. And again I would strike each one off for one reason or another. That one was too tall. That one too husky. That one a newcomer. That one not in Mom’s league and that one way beyond it. And so it went.
My lunch break comes with a lovely surprise as I check my phone to discover that Winona had sent me a text. It simply read ‘Thinking about you’. Those three simple words were enough to send my heart soaring. We’d only been apart a few hours and already I ached to see her again. This love stuff was addictive as hell. I shoot her back a bunch of hearts and a ‘See you tonight’ then I am out of my apron and out the back door to rip down to the college to listen to Grandpa.
After parking my bike in the visitor lot I make for his usual spot. To get there in the best time I cut through one of the new gleaming towers of the ever expanding campus. In the vast common area I blend in with the throngs of students with ease as I make my way. I’d been planning to buy a sandwich at the cafe here but as I notice the line stretching out from it I decide to just skip lunch instead. I am almost through to the other side when, in all the hustle and bustle, I spot a familiar figure sitting alone tucked away in the most out of the way corner.
The sight of Briar sitting by herself causes me to stop in my tracks. She sat in a defensive hunch with her head down and her back to everything happening around her as she nibbled at her lunch. Occasionally she sheepishly glances about in a way that would appear innocuous to most but that I knew only too well. It wasn’t in hopes of seeing a friend or looking at something of interest, it was instead a survival instinct to keep a wary lookout for bullies and ‘cool’ folks who might come to make her life difficult. In the safety of our little game group Briar bloomed, but right now she looked so tiny and so lonely there in her private corner. In another place and another time, that could have just as easily been me. But unlike me that solitary figure was a long way from home.
My thoughts are jostled as I am bumped into from behind.
“He was just standing there!” A woman sneers as a group pushes past me with no apology.
I hear another whisper as they stream by. “Shit. Wasn’t that Kayla’s pet femboy?”
“It is! Avery something.”
“Beckett.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” I can feel their eyes as they look back at me. “Cute, but what a head case.”
My cheeks burn in embarrassment. Recognizing those voices from high school I waste no time in getting the heck out of there. Instead of the door though I make for my new friend.
Briar catches the sounds of my steps and peeks my way as I near. The moment she sees me her face brightens and she sits up straight. “Avery!”
“H-Hi B-Briar.” I smile back.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m on my lunch. Thought I’d v-visit my G-Grandpa.” I say. “What are you d-doin?”
“Oh. Not much.” She says as she nods to her half eaten salad. “Just eating lunch and…stuff.”
“Cool.”
“Cool.”
“Hey, uh, w-wanna come?”
“To see your grandpa?”
“Sure.”
“Oh, uh.” She looks at her lunch then back to me. “Really? He won’t mind?”
“Nah.” I say. “The m-more the merrier.”
“Well…uh…sure. Yes!” She grins then hurriedly packs up her salad and drink into her backpack. “I’ve got a little time right now. Why not?” As she goes to get up I offer my hand. She takes it and allows me to help her to her feet. To my surprise she continues to hold it as we make our way toward the door. “So, any word on when the next game’s gonna be?”
“Um, n-no.”
“I hope it’s soon.” She says, completely lit up with excitement. She was a far cry from that quiet loner I’d seen just moments ago. “I had SOOOO much fun last time.”
“M-Me too.” As the initial surprise faded I found myself quite enjoying the feel of her small, soft hand in mine.
“I’m hoping that maybe next time we might…” Her words cut off and her eyes bulge as she notices how distracted I was by our handholding. Suddenly she yanks her hand away to hold it to her bosom as if she’d burnt it. Her face turns pink with a blush as she peeps. “Sorry!”
“It’s ok-kay.”
“No. It’s weird.” A flinch flashes across her face as she quietly chastises herself for being strange. Boy, did I know that feeling! “I didn’t mean anything. I know you and Winona…”
“It’s okay.” I say again.
“Oh my God. I’m so embarrassed.” She looks about as if searching for a hole to jump into. “My best friend Thorne and I used to…um…geez! It’s not a romantic thing. I was thinking about the game and…I wasn’t really thinking…”
“It’s okay!” I giggle. “Really. F-Friends can hold hands too.”
“I guess.” She wrings her hands nervously as we start to walk again. “But not usually.”
“T-True. Not usually.”
“Especially…a guy and a girl.”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Avery.”
Just as she says that I spot the group of women who bumped into me earlier sitting at a nearby table. One of them looks my way, laughs, then lowers her head to whisper something to her friends.
“Briar.” I say. “There’s n-nothing you c-could do to embarrass me th-that I haven’t d-done to myself a thousand t-times worse a thousand t-t-times over.”
“Oh!”
We pass through the doors and back out into the fresh air. “I’d like to h-hold y-your hand.” I offer her my hand as we walk. “If it m-makes you happy.”
Still blushing but sorely tempted Briar glances about as she whispers. “We can’t.”
“If you s-say so.”
“Well…I mean…” She pauses. “Would Winona be okay with it?”
“Better to beg forgiveness than ask p-permission.” I jest. “I’ll tell her tonight when I see her. I’ll ask p-permission. In the meantime I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
“Permission?”
Lowering my voice I say. “She’s my Domme and I have t-to do what she s-says.”
“Oh. Oh! OH!” Her eyes widen. “Oh God that’s hot!”
I giggle. “Yeah. She t-treats me so good. I love b-being hers. Don’t t-tell anyone though. Except K-Kayla.”
“I won’t. I won’t.” She says. “I mean I kinda guessed but…cool!”
“Yeah.”
“I mean…” She drifts closer, hesitantly slipping her hand back into mine. “…I suppose…why can’t friends hold hands? Who says we can’t?”
“N-Nobody.” I say gaily as I wrap my hand around hers to hold it tight.
With a bright smile she grips my hand back again. Walking through the central quad our strides match as our arms swing in unison between us. We look at each other and laugh at our tiny act of societal rebellion. There was something so pure and warm and wholesome about my budding friendship with Briar. She was a kindred spirit and a fellow oddball and I absolutely adored her for it.
“So is your grandpa a professor or something?”
Cocking my ear to the wind I can just catch the low notes of a distant groovy beat. With a proud smile I answer. “Something better.”
Comments
Del
Potential Small Typo: "Every Caucasian man that came in between the ages of forty and seventy I would look and wonder." -> "I would look at and wonder" or "Every time a Caucasian man came in" ?
