Contractions III (Josh)

III

            Josh hated the city.  There was no allure to the northern lights, when southern lights were so much brighter.  He would see them on TV, hear the pounding bass beats on the radio and wonder why he had to be trapped in an archaic city of granite filled with nothing but ice and oil.  He was just shy of 18 and most of the clubs wouldn't let him in without ID, so what was there to do?  How was he supposed to have any fun?

            His friends were mostly older, and he didn't see them often.  They were hardly friends at all, really, just people he would hang out with sometimes.  There was no one his own age in the apartments.  He got in trouble a lot, at school, at home.  His mother never understood.

            As the cold weather set in it was even harder to find something to occupy him.  A couple of video games, some dirty magazines; nothing kept his attention for long.  He'd drift around the apartments after school and watch people.  People, he discovered, could be really fascinating - especially when they had something to hide.

            He had discovered Paige a few weeks ago.  She was in her early thirties, a little plain faced, but she had a good figure and an eye-catching chest.  He had caught her looking at him when she passed him in the corridors.  She didn't seem to actually notice him, but her eyes showed something else.  He knew she wanted him.  He had paid close attention to her after that, watching her movements to and from the apartments, listening in to the arguments that echoed along the halls.  She liked to smoke at the front door, afterwards.  He could always see her from his bedroom window.  He would watch her and sometimes he would fantasise.  Sometimes he would do more.

            That night he had watched her smoke in the icy sunset as the fog crept up the hill towards them and he knew it was different.  The way her hands were shaking, the way she dragged on the cigarette.  She was vulnerable.   He had tried to make his way to her, but she was gone by the time he arrived.  He slouched in the corridor, blaming inaction, imagining what they could have done had they met up and then the door from the stairwell swung open and he had struggled to contain his surprise.  She was startled herself and avoided his gaze.

           

"Evening” He said, trying to sound cool.  His voice sounded weaker than usual.

            She ignored him, walked on out the door.  She was going to have another smoke.  Yes, it was different.  She really was vulnerable.  Something had changed.  Was it over, perhaps?

            He followed her out, watching her carefully and as she drew on her next smoke he stepped forward.

            "Bit cold for that isn't it?"  He withdrew his own pack and held out his cigarette for a light.  It was just like in the movies.  "Mind if I join you?"  Except she wasn't answering.  She wasn't responding to his charms.  And then suddenly she was.

            He took a long drag of the cigarette after she lit it.  It felt almost like he was inhaling some of her.  It was... Amazing.

            He took a moment to drink it all in.  The atmosphere was charged.  Hair stood up on his arms and not just from the chill.  Fog was beginning to lick at their feet.  He felt a shiver run through him and then he took control of it.  Still.  Calm.  Cool.

            He turned to watch her, let her appearance burn into his retinas.  She looked tired and plainer than usual and yet in that somewhere, she was starting the blood flow up to all the right places.  "You look tense."  He said at last.

            She seemed to notice his gaze, flinched.  Still no reply.

            "I... uh.  I noticed you were out before.  Saw you from my window."  She shivered in silence and so he went on, trying to sound sympathetic.  "You looked really lost, you know.  I just thought you might like some company."

            Her bitter laugh was unexpected.

            "That's the sort of invitation that got me into this mess in the first place."  She turned to face him.  He could feel that he was losing control of the situation, all the movie fantasies were fading away.  "You're too young for me, so... good night."

            Instinct made him grab her.  Her gasp was more arousing than accusing.  He had one trick left.

            ""You deserve better than him, you know that?  I've watched the two of you.  You should- you should leave him."  The words sounded more honest than he had intended.  Did that mean he meant them?  His grip tightened.

            "And run off with you, perhaps?"  Her smile!  "You're still a boy.  Life isn't that simple.  You'll learn."  His arm fell limp as she shook it away and turned her back on him  "Good night."  The door swung shut.

            He turned back to face the night and cursed.  It had seemed the right moment to try, to show that he was a man, to have a little fun, all those things - all those emotions rolled into one.  He didn't know what he felt except that he was horny and she had left.  Icy air sharpened words bitten off in frustration.

            He leaned against the freezing wall and stared into the darkness.  It was darker than usual.  Power cut.  His mother would tell him it wasn't safe to be out without the street lamps, but what did she know.  He needed a little thrill, a little something to make up for his failure and suddenly the cemetery wall at the other side of the car park seemed more tempting than usual.  He had never been in there in the pitch dark and now he dared himself to face it, reminding himself that no one would see what he did in there, not even himself.

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