yay for snow days
Dec. 6th, 2007 12:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Naturally, Konrad took no notice of their taking notice, given that he had never had a reason or an interest to do so thus far in his entire life. But as his body underwent the various changes of adolescence, this oblivious attitude began to change, as well.
He was popular among the girls for his strong physique and aloof, “lone-wolf” air. But as his secret affections and physical attractions fell upon one, solely one in particular, this façade became increasingly difficult to uphold. It tore him apart, and he had no choice but to confess. He was received with a touch of surprise, but ultimately acceptance. A rendezvous was arranged, after which Konrad would never be the same.
He was taught how to kiss, to yield his lips and respond with appropriate aggression. He was shown how to touch and where, to induce the best response, and the ways he could substitute his mouth for his hands. He learned how to undress, redress, and straighten his uniform so as to look completely natural in times of hurry, how to give and receive most efficiently, and he learned of all the most sensitive spots on the body, and the best ways to pleasure them.
Konrad had previously never given much thought to the act of making love, but now that such thoughts began to consume him, he considered himself lucky to have such an experienced partner. After a certain length of time, he started to think he was truly in love.
The secret affair continued like this for the better part of Konrad’s high school days—always a secret, for neither wanted to put their reputation at risk. However, when it finally came to an end, in Konrad’s third year, it did so rather abruptly, and a touch violently.
He waits.
And waits.
And waits.
It seems like it’s already been an eternity to poor Konrad, but he doesn’t care. They had promised to meet here, and a promise was a promise, after all. He had yet to break any promise to anyone, and he’d be loath to do so now. He liked to uphold his own sense of honor, if nothing else.
A girl approaches, happily calling his name to get his attention. When Konrad looks up, he sees a man on her arm, a man his age, a man all too familiar to him.
He stands, greets them both, and strains to keep smiling as they make small talk. A plan is made. He keeps smiling, and tells the girl to go on ahead while he talks to the boy she came with. It’s important, he says. She smiles and leaves.
The other man laughs and asks him what’s wrong. The smile falls from Konrad’s face, and he asks him what the hell he thinks he’s doing. The man laughs again. It’s just a date, isn’t it? Why does he look so upset?
The casual remark angers Konrad. He argues that he knows damn well why he looks so upset. He wants to know what the hell he’s doing with her.
The man shrugs. She’s just another girl to him. It doesn’t mean anything to him, unless she can show him a good time. That’s the point, isn’t it?
Konrad is stunned. He asks him why. How could he do something like that?
He smirks. Why? Why should he care? After all, he says to Konrad, it’s not like he ever took this seriously for a second, did he?
He laughs a third time, and turns to catch up with his girl. He cannot foresee being whipped back around to face Konrad, nor can he see the lightning-fast punch that will shatter his jaw.
By the time Konrad returned to school, gossip of the incident had spread like wildfire. The girl that had been involved was quick to tell her friends how she had been valiantly defended from that sleaze, and they were duly impressed with his chivalry. They were all so impressed that, soon enough, he was faced every day with another confession of love or admiration, and more eager questions if he had known what that sleaze was up to all along.
Of course he didn’t. He had no idea, and neither did they. He lay alone each night in his solitary flat, silently mourning for the world he had lost—the world that had abandoned him.