Ik las net de beginpost opnieuw door, en op de een of andere manier waren er allemaal random woorden verdwenen?!?! Echt om de zoveel zinnen gewoon een paar woorden weg. Super raar. Maar goed, ik heb zover ik gaten kon ontdekken alles weer teruggezet, maar als jullie nog een zin vinden die niet klopt laat het me dan weten! Nog een stukje hoofdstuk 2! De eerste sexy scene komt er snel aan
Kendra’s house was a lot less similar to a mansion from a children’s horror story, it was rather civilized, not in the case that “civilized” depicts a sense of cultural superiority, but rather a sense of societal adherence, as their house was the archetype of the WASP family home. Kendra herself was civilized in the same sense, but never in the other, as Kendra was rather font of everything sex, alcohol and misbehavior. Then again it could be argued that sex, alcohol and misbehavior are all cultural superiority is about. That night I found myself on the steps of Kendra’s civilized house, clothed in my most civilized outfit, semi-ready for a civilized party with my civilized schoolmates. The noises from inside made me shiver, I could hear an ancient rap song coming from the stereo that should have never survived it’s downfall, but nevertheless I rang the doorbell. Twice.
Did I ever mention how I never really did that whole friends-thing? Well, to be honest, I actually did, for a brief moment three years ago, before the unfortunate events of that dreadful day in November. During that time I felt rather synchronized with the teenage thrill that I came to despise so soon after. It was not surprising, thus, that Kendra welcomed me home as a prodigal son. I wish I could say that it felt as if I never left, but the, very much sober, sight of bodies entangled, beer spilled, school girls dancing (or at least moving) and school boys fighting (or at least trying), made my heart grow weary of this place. Kendra pulled me in and closed the door. There were whispers. Inaudible but yet so clear. I reached for a beer, Kendra sighted disapprovingly, and I walked aimlessly around the house. I knew nobody. I knew their names and their faces but I never knew them. The first beer was finished by the time I left he kitchen, and I could already feel the promises the alcohol made me, drink boy, Sophie would be here soon. Drink boy. I had been in this house before, drink boy, I had partied in this house before. Kendra had greeted me so kindly that I figured she remembered that I had been here before too, and I wondered if her memories were as fascinatingly shattered as mine. Drink boy.
The garden was filled with slow moving, ill talking, sincere laughing and odd tripping youngsters who were in ecstasy with themselves and each other. It was a marvelous sight that went in and out of focus, shaking, thrilling, wobbling, trembling, shivering. Drink boy. Kendra was looking gorgeous tonight, dancing under the stars in her white lace dress, her golden hair following her every move. There was no music, but somehow Kendra’s movements were all so… in unison. A graceful alliance of tender moving and passionate promise. My breathing was heavy as I caught Kendra’s eyes, she stopped in the midst of her dance and stared back at me. Remember, Kendra. Drink, boy. Sensuous vows of mutual recognition. Her gaze parted from mine and I followed it, wanting it back and curious for more. Sophie. She was here, standing on the porch, smiling that wicked half smile of hers. She was a vision of pure perfection, eternally elusive as the stars that embraced us and the moon that kissed us goodnight, a magical mystery as dark as the whiffs of night between the promises of tomorrow. My breathing stopped when our eyes met, oh Sophie… Hers was a beauty beyond compare, with her bright green eyes, her hazel hair, the small freckles on her cheeks, the tiny curling of the corner of her lips, the way her body moved weightless across the garden, such elegance, such sophistication. I lost sight of Kendra in my clouded mind, but Sophie’s being shined as bright as a thousand stars, and she moved slowly toward me, and I crawled back against the far corner of the walls, capturing her image in my mind. Drink boy. But the alcohol was gone. Sophie smiled and sat down against the wall I tried to push my body through.
“Sit with me Spencer Lance.” I looked at her and her gray sweater, even without trying she looked so marvelous. She had loosened the top buttons, showing a bit of cleavage, leaving the rest of her body to my imaginative fantasy. I let my body slide down the wall.
“I’m glad you decided to come,” she said, with her silk voice that made me shiver, “you make for good company.” I smiled, quite unknowing of her intentions, naively enjoying her attentions.
“How could I refuse,” I said. I craved for a new beer, I seemed to have forgotten how much fun parties were when one is drunk. Or at least intoxicated.