Shadow Seed 1: The Misbegotten (22 page)

By then, I had reached the middle of the small bridge, realizing they were walking fast, bouncing on the balls of their feet as they came, much swifter than most girls cared to walk.  They seemed on some sort of mission.

I remember walking more to the right, so I could pass them by without impeding their progress only to find they had moved to intercept my path.  There was no destination on the other side of the breezeway.  They had come to talk to me… apparently… I hoped.

As they came nearer, they slowed, breathing heavily as if they had been striding that way for so
me distance.  I stopped.  They stopped, directly before me, both of them staring up at me.  I frowned before I could mask the expression.  My first thought was they were somehow pissed off at me and were going to do something weird, or rude.  But then, I realized their countenances betrayed a different sort of intent altogether.  They weren’t hostile.  I let my face soften.  I glanced back and forth at them as they caught their wind.  One of them even placed her hand just above her breasts where her cleavage began as she heaved.

What the hell, ladies, why so eager? 
I had mused internally.  I made my initial impression of them, concluding, with some delight, they were complete opposites.  One was tall, only a few inches shorter than me and athletic with dark features, strong limbed and sported the ubiquitous mid-length, wavy Latina hair.  She had dyed a translucent russet, so it shone even in the late afternoon sun.  She had light brown eyes, matching her hair perfectly, which was probably why she had dyed it that color to begin with.  She had an aquiline face, narrow with a v-shaped chin and tiny, if not delicate facial features – thin lips, small nose, and dainty cheekbones.

The other was petite and girly with piercing eyes and beautiful skin.  Her face was framed by long, straight hair - the type that takes about an hour to brush out before it is fully free of tangles.  Her complexion was pale when compared to her friends’.  This was offset nicely by her very dark, brown eyes and almost jet-black hair.  She wore it parted down the middle with bangs cut in a very modern Cleopatra-like style.

Both were dressed in very, very tight jeans (a fad that had recently come back with a vengeance), loose fitting blouses over matching spaghetti strapped tank tops and wearing a large assortment of bracelets, necklaces and earrings that would have given the 1980’s Madonna³ a run for her money.

I have come to an understanding why Ramona had picked these two girls.  They were so much of a contrast in allure and
, since most guys tend to let their guard down when confronted with stunning females, I realized she had used them to butter me up for the main course.  I never actually knew this to be true, though, I’ve never asked her about it.  Maybe I should.  It would be a funny tale now, after the way things turned out.

Nevertheless, a few awkward moments passed.  The taller girl became all smiles and apologies, while the smaller
one just stared at me, unmoving.  I smiled right back and said the typical, “Oh, it’s ok” factoid shit us guys say when we want to come across as nice to the opposite sex.  All I was really thinking was maybe, just maybe, my luck with females had just turned for the better.  Maybe there wouldn’t be too many more times when I’d have to lather up the ole’ right hand with a little more Jergen’s
4
than was needed.  Maybe I wouldn’t have to stroke my shaft ferociously every other to relieve some of the pressure building up in my balls.  Maybe one of these girls could help with that.

Maybe… A young man can have hope, right?

A few weird seconds of discomfort and uncertainty came next, so I followed up my “it’s ok” with what any guy my age would’ve said when confronted by two hotties.  “Uh, hi…”

“Hey,” said the tall one with the wonderfully fit body.  “My name is Sandra Fernandez… well, Sandy, everyone calls me, Sandy.”  She exhaled sharply, giving me a quick wave of her hand.  I was astounded to think that she might actually be nervous to introduce herself to me.

Really, why?

“Cool… Sandy.  I’m Estefan.  Estefan Ernando.”  I blushed suddenly, blurting, “I know it kinda rhymes, which is stupid, so everyone just calls me Effy or Eff.”  I extended my hand in a formal way - the way I was taught to do by my mom, my many aunties, and my crazy, shit-talking granny.

She reached for my hand immediately, her face erupting with a very large and sincere smile.  She lit up all at once.  Our hands clasped, and she giggled.  “Nice to meet you,” she said aloud as our hands bobbed up and down.  Her hands were soft and warm.  I could tell you, in that moment, I decided she was cool people.  I could see already, if we spent the time and the effort, we could become good friends.  Our eyes locked above our handshake, and she seemed to stiffen as if she took an equal amount of notice of me as I had from her.  We both seemed to freeze within our own brains.  We shared a funny, crooked smile.

Then…“Well, hey… my name is Leda Quintanilla,” said the tiny girl, peering straight into my eyes as I turned toward her.  Her dark, luminous orbs were more serious and dir
ect than those of her friend.  She extended her hand toward me.  It was an elegant match to her overall graceful form.

I reached for her hand and grasped it firmly.  “…Oh, Leda, ok, hi, it
’s very nice to meet you.”  Her hand was stiff and dry.  There was nothing friendly about her approach to me.  I tried to smile warmly and put her at ease, you know, let things flow.  It bounced off her with little effect.  She was as solid as stone.  I could tell underneath her cool exterior, there was an incredibly complex a person roiling about.  I had no idea just how true my initial assessment of the girl would prove to be as the years passed.

“So…,” I began, letting my hand fall from Leda’s the moment she stopped gripping me.  For some reason, she raised an eyebrow at me.  Her eyes filled with wary curiosity.  “How can I help, you girls?”

For some reason, that made Sandy giggle.  Leda turned and hit her firmly in the elbow.

“What?” demanded Sandy still smiling through a small frown.  She shrugged her shoulders as another bit of mirth bubbled out of her.

“Dude, get a grip,” was all Leda said as she turned back to me all business.  Her brow pinched in the middle.  She cleared her throat, shifting her weight to her left foot - a thing I would come to know she did when she about to broche a touchy subject.  “Ok, so… we’re kinda here as a favor to someone who - for some reason or another - has suddenly become shy.  Which is a bunch of bullshit, I might add.”

I frowned.  “So, you’re really telling me if it wasn’t for this favor, neither of you would’ve come up to me to say hi?” came my quick question.  For some reason, Leda’s unbridled distaste had emboldened me.  It felt like a challenge of some kind, and I couldn’t resist wanting to fight it.  I wasn
’t sure why, but I do recall it I had that effect on me.

“I would have,” blurted Sandy.  Then abruptly surprise
filled her face.  She seemed stunned by the fact she had said something she clearly hadn’t meant to say aloud.  Her hand came up to her mouth instinctively, to touch the lips that had betrayal her.

Leda glanced over at her friend and must’ve seen something I did not, because, without warning
, she socked the other girl solidly in the shoulder.

I felt my smile widen as I continued to look at Sandy.  She appeared to ignore Leda blow entirely.  Her mind and mine were too busy comprehending the obvious.  We, her and I, realized, at the same time, if asked her o
ut right then and right there, she would’ve accepted.  A cool shiver went down my spine.

She tried to recover some degree of control and visibly shook herself.  Her gaze slid toward Leda.  I watched her gather herself, though her eyes were rounder and blinked rapidly.  Absently, she rubbed at the upper portion of her arm, where the smaller girl had punched her.

Sandy liked me!
  I felt heat radiate throughout my body.

“Did you just sock my ass?
” asked the tall teenager, her voice shaky, strained.  She was trying to deflect the awkward delicacy of the moment.

“It seemed as though you needed it,” replied Leda almost on top of Sandy’s words.

Silence – long and uncomfortable - ensued.

“Anyway,” Leda went on, dismissing Sandy and moving back to what she’d been trying to say in the first place.  “A friend of ours would like to meet you.  She’s asked us to sort of introduce her to you, because she has suddenly become this shy, quivering little creature.  She asked us to come and get you, and point her out for her.”  She said it monotone as if rehearsed.  I could tell she felt gang-pressed.  S
he didn’t want to be there.  She didn’t want to talk to me that was plain to see.

“
You
didn’t answer my question,” I uttered, a little quieter than before, just for Leda to hear.  Her disdain was beginning to grate on my nerves.

Her stare grew colder as she wiggled her small index finger in my general direction.  “I think my friend here already answered enough for the both of us.”

“So, you’re saying you would’ve stopped to say, hi,” I countered, feeling a little bold now. 
Why did she make me rankle so?

She rolled her eyes.  “Will you meet my friend or not?”  It was obvious that she
’d had enough of my little game.

She wanted this to be over.

I didn’t.

“Yeah sure, whatever,” was all I muttered, after a seconds’ delay.  “Where is she, then?”

Leda sniffed, turning her head to the side.  She wasn’t peering in my direction when she replied, “She’s through the tunnel, standing near the railing overlooking the Quad.”

The Quad was an area the four-story, main building of our school surrounded on three sides.  It was enclosed on the fourth side by a twelve-foot wall.  There was a raised platform, standing directly in front of that wall and was often used as a staging area for school events, or the many lunchtime dances we used to have back then.  Apparently, this mystery girl was standing by the railing on the second floor of the main building, on the same level
as the breezeway, where it connected to the structure.  All I had to do was continue going in the direction I’d been walking and I would eventually rendezvous with her.

I stepped up to Sandy, ignoring the other girl now.  Maybe the silent treatment would work.  I extended my hand toward her for a second time.  “It was really nice meeting you, Sandra.  Maybe we can find the time to talk in the future…?”  I worded it like a question in order to give her the opportunity to answer in her head first.  She nodded, nearly imperceptive, and I took that as a “yes”. I knew she had made her decision already.
She liked me.  It was easy to see.

My smile reawakened on my face as we shook hands, a sort of dreamy gladness spread across hers as if she didn’t quite understand what had just occurred.  All she could
manage was guess it was a good thing.

I walked through them, pointedly not looking in Leda’s direction.  I was intent on getting this nonsense over with, so I could get home.  I was annoyed, because I had done nothing wrong and still the dark, petite beauty didn’t like me.  The silent treatment had failed.

I got about five or six steps from them when I heard Leda say, “I’m not really sure what she sees in
him
.”

My only thought was,
Bitch!

I shrugged it off and continued on without breaking stride.  A heartbeat later, I heard Sandy’s reply, “Stop being so mean, Leda!  He was nice.  He was cute and he smelled good, so I can see what she sees in him.  You’re just acting like that, because you won’t admit there are still nice guys out there in the world.  Not every guy is like the douche-bag you go out with.
”

“Shut up, Sandy!” I heard the other’s vehement reaction.

“Plus, did you see his smile…?”

I cannot say for sure if Leda harrumphed, but in my mind, it sure seemed right.  I remember, however she had responded, it made me chuckle.

I walked from the bridge and onto the second floor walkway, then into the passageway that passed completely through the main building.  Beyond it, opened the vista of the Quad.

That was when I saw her, silhouetted against the late afternoon sunlight beyond (the throughway was always darker than the light of the day, because the lights within were perpetually dim.  This differentiation of luminance was amplified as the day progressed).

She was fifteen years old then.  Already, she had the well-formed curves of a twenty-year old.  I could see that she was wearing pants of some sort, tight fitting, low-waisted - as was expected in those days.  The half-globes of her ass attracted my eyes within seconds.  Even at a distance, with her half turned from me, I could tell they were firm and uplifted.  The kind of ass I had always drooled over whenever I watched porn.  Full, globe-like asses always made me masturbate furiously.  I was fixated on spilling my goo all over a pair of nicely rounded buns, rubbing the tip of my slippery dick between the cheeks.

Pure heaven!

She was wearing heels along with those ass-accentuating… jeans.  Yes, I could see they were jeans.  I could see this as I approached.  She also had on a small blazer, ending at the waist, a white cotton, form-fitting shirt or tank underneath.  Her hair, pulled back and gathered in a Scrunchie, formed a long ponytail down to the small of her back.  I wondered if it would reach her perfectly formed buttocks if she were to let it down.  I could see beyond, the Quad was entirely deserted; it was, after all, nearly 5pm.  There was a silence about the place that was natural to me at this time of day.  Earlier the halls, even though they were outdoors and open to the world, would’ve been a cacophony of noise.  Now, when I walked home from practice, they were quiet.  My foot falls made loud echoes.  I could almost hear myself breathe.