The Friend

November 11, 2009
By , Los Angeles, CA
I see this young man staring at my friend. He’s a fine one too. His dark curly hair glistens in the burning light with eyes that become roads to his fiery soul. Sitting on his green motorcycle, it was obvious he did manual labor as his sweat made his white tee cling to his chiseled torso. And I could see my girl, Reese, staring at him too. She wasn’t sore on the eyes either. Her lean, athletic body can get her any guy she wants. The problem is I want him too. And what I want, I get.

“To answer your question, yeah I was looking at you, real hard, girl,” I hear the boy say as I come into the conversation. “So, what’s your name?” he questions Reese. Reese moves her hand through her short, spiky hair. “Wouldn’t you like to find out?” She flashes her infamous smile and with a shake of her hips, she’s gone off into the ravine. Behind her, the boy, Jonathan, grins with his braces sparkling in the sunlight as he straddles his cycle and speeds off into the distance. Oh yeah, he will be mine, just wait.

“I like you, Jonathan,” Reese says with a shyness I never heard before in her voice. Jonathan lifts Reese’s chin so she can feel his eyes pierce her body. “I’ve known that since the day you switched away from me.” It’s been a week since they met in the same spot they’re laying in. His lips sink lower and lower, finally uniting with Reese’s. Her hands firmly grip the plush, purple blanket as his hot kiss trails to her swan-like neck. He’s almost mine now; I can just feel it. One by one, their clothes become one with the earth as they lay with the naked moon. Once Reese is an bare as the tree trunk beside her, she says, “Uh, baby? There’s something I have to tell you.” Jonathan looks up from between her breasts, letting his curls fall slightly on his forehead. “Lemme guess,” he murmurs nuzzling her collarbone. “You’re a virgin.” “Yeah, but that’s not it.” “I know. I don’t have a wrapper either, so I’m finna pull out, k?” Reese sighs heavily. “Okay, but…” Jonathan sits up fully, cupping her mocha face. “Reese, baby, calm down. Stop being such a nervous wreck and let me please you. Girl, just don’t say a word, k?” “Okay, sorry.”

In the climax of their, uh, activity, I could feel myself moving. Once her fluids touch his privates, it will do down. I just have to wait until the time is right. The fluid finally engulfs me, and I can feel myself being pulled into his body. Man, the feeling’s indescribable, being split in half, once again, moving into another place to live.

It’s been months since I first entered Jonathan. The move has been tiring, but I manage. Three days after we left the clinic, Jonathan receives a phone call. “Are you sure?” cries Jonathan into the phone. “There must be a mistake, I don’t sleep around…Well, okay…yeah, thanks.” Jonathan begins to run his hands through his hair but remembers he has braids and settles for twirling them.

“ I guess it would be a good time to introduce myself,” I start with sarcastic shyness. “No, I know exactly who you are, he replies with hostility, “When were you gonna tell me you were here?” “Kid, I never tell when I’m here. That ruins the fun,” I soothe. “And even if I wanted to out myself, I’ve been fighting your T-cells. Boy, those little buggers are tough, but I always win in the end.” “Fine, who gave me you?” pleads Jonathan. “Reese,” I say shortly. “How come you didn’t warn me?” he whines like a baby without a bottle, pitiful. “Listen,” I demand, “I’m not a therapist. I don’t care how you feel. I’m a virus soon to be a disease. I make grown men cry and babies die. Hell, I’m HIV, baby!” Thriving off your pain is how I live. So do you really think I care ‘cause you’re sad?” “But what did I ever do to you?” he asks. “Don’t you see? It’s a trade off. I gave you your fun, your one nightstand. I gave you the pleasure you wanted. Now you must give me what I deserve, your body.” “Okay, I get your point. But my life is now over, I have no one.” Jonathan whispers and put his face in his hands. I can’t help it; I’m a sucker for tough guys showing emotion. “Baby, don’t worry, I’ll be here. Through your sickness, no one will be as close as I will. Here, just consider me your closest friend.”

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