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RWISA “RISING” WRITER FOR OCTOBER, 2017
AUTHOR, MICHELLE ABBOTT
Excerpt from gay romance “MOTORBIKING.”
I hear the rumble of his motorbike before I see him. I check my watch. He’s late today. Not that I’ve been stalking him, much. Well, only for a week, and today is the day that I pluck up the courage to talk to him, I think. He pulls up outside the coffee shop, his long legs draped over his powerful bike. He takes off his helmet. His honey coloured hair is short these days. Back when we were at school he had thick curls and I used to love tangling my fingers in his hair. He strides into the coffee shop. I wait for a minute and then follow behind him. He places his order for a caramel latte. Good choice, I order the same. He pulls out his credit card. His hands are much bigger than they used to be back when he was eight. He still has beautiful long fingers and I can’t help noticing that his fingernails are short and neat. I sneak a sideways glance at him. I wonder how many boyfriends he’s had over the years. I wonder if he’s dating seriously now and I selfishly hope he isn’t.
I’ve never quite got over Daniel Grey. Crush, infatuation, call it what you will but he rocked my world when I was a kid. He was the only gay kid I knew at school. Looking at him now he wouldn’t so much rock my world, he’d shake it to death. He’s grown up, and out. About two hundred pound of solid muscle I’m guessing, plus an eyebrow piercing and arms covered with colourful ink, and that’s just the parts that I can see. I can’t think about the parts of him I can’t see, not here in the queue, I’ll save that for fantasy fodder for when I’m alone.
He takes a seat over by the window. There’s an empty table next to his. I will the barista to hurry with my drink so I can grab the empty table before someone else does. When my coffee arrives, I almost spill it in my hurry to get to the vacant table. I plonk myself down and glance at him. Shall I be subtle? Or just outright ask him out? It’s not like we’re strangers. Okay, it has been fourteen years since we last saw each other. Fourteen years since he left school with no explanation. But still, we’re far from strangers. I’m over thinking this. He’s reading a book. “What are you reading?”
His gaze darts to me, and then returns to the page. “Stephen King.”
A smile spreads across my lips. “And there was me thinking you might be reading a gay romance.”
He has a scowl on his face, which is actually kind of cute on him. Perhaps he doesn’t recognise me, I guess I have changed a little since school. I hold out my hand, although really I’d much rather rest it on his thigh. “I’m Toby, remember me?”
He ignores my hand. “No.”
“We were in the same class at Merton Primary school.”
His gaze returns to his book. “Never heard of it.”
Frowning, I take a sip of my coffee to wet my dry throat. I’m not mistaken, it’s definitely Daniel Grey, I’d never forget his face. Besides, I just feel it. I can feel it’s him. It’s unusual for someone to forget their primary school, but not impossible. “Let’s try again. I’m Toby,” I hold out my hand once more, “and you are?”
He stands, knocks back his drink and strides out of the coffee shop, leaving me wondering what the hell just happened.
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