I'm continuing with last week's untitled work. I still don't have a title for it, so I'd love to hear any suggestions if you have them.
This weeks prompts were:
from guest prompter Alison Todd: The moment I opened my mouth, I knew I would regret it.
And from Julie, one of these alternative prompts:
Use these three words in your story: sunshine, stereo, ambulance
or
cold hands, warm heart
or
"In for a penny, in for a pound"
Don't forget to visit the other great flasher's! (links at the bottom!)
Amanda passed the paintbrush across the faded pink walls. Her things had been taken out and sold in a yard sale or gone into storage at her parent’s house. There was nothing left for her here except memories. She grasped the brush painfully hard, enjoying the sensation of its wooden handle digging into her skin. It stopped her mind from wandering, or did it? Suddenly, she was remembering a day, years ago, when she had grasped something just as hard to keep her feet on the ground.
Amanda rushed across the patio. She had had enough with her foul neighbor. Why didn’t he go to his back patio to fix his darn motorcycle? No. He just had to do on his front lawn and annoy her to no end.
Three days ago, she had been again trying to read at her window seat when the brat had started revving his motor. She’d ask her mom if she could go talk to the neighbors, but she had refused, explaining that everyone could do as they pleased on their front lawn. She’d then gone to her father, but he’d said pretty much the same. Finally, she had spoken to her grandmother. She was the only one that had made a decent suggestion: “Why don’t you talk to the boy? I’m sure if you explain you can come to an agreement.”
Amanda huffed as she crossed the street. An agreement? Her ass! All the dimwit had done was stare at her as if she had descended from the planet of the apes. He had then proceeded to laugh in her face and ignore her. Oh, she had been so furious. She had rushed back home in tears.
It was then that her father suggested something useful. “Why don’t you use your Discman to drown out the noise?” She had. Until today. Today dimwit was being extraordinarily loud because not only was he making motor noises he had now added to the pack some hell sent metal music that killed her own classical preference.
As she stepped on the lawn, Amanda took in a deep breath. She fixed the hem of her purple tank top and straightened her shorts. Then she set her face into a determined mask, clenched her fists to her side and stomped her way to the boy’s garage.
“Ahem,” she loudly cleared her voice.
Dimwit didn’t even glance her way. This was war. She wasn’t prone to violence but if it came to that…in for a penny, in for a pound.
Amanda leaned forward over the bike. Her face almost level with dimwit’s as he bent over the bike’s wheel.
“AHEM!”
Dimwit looked up at her and smiled. For a moment, a funny feeling danced in her stomach and Amanda hurried to straighten herself. Dimwit turned his back on her and lowered the volume of the stereo.
“How can I help you?” he asked standing to his full height. Last time they had spoken he had been sitting in the sidewalk and hadn’t bothered to stand. Amanda was taken aback by how tall he was, she had to tilt her head back to look him in the face, but she refused to be intimidated.
“I asked nicely the other day, and I will ask again now. Can you please do this, “she spread her arms wide, indicating the music, the bike and everything around it, “somewhere else?”
Dimwit smiled, a slow sensual grin that caused his cheeks to dimple and made his blue eyes shine.
“No.”
“May I know why not?” she asked trying to maintain her composure.
“No.” He shrugged and returned to his previous position next to the bike’s wheel.
Amanda ground her teeth together. Decision coursing through her, she rushed around the bike and forced herself to stand between Dimwit and the wheel. Slowly, Dimwit raised his head. His gaze travelled across her body in a slow, sensual caress that caused her legs to tremble. Amanda held on to the motorcycle’s handle, the leather dug into her skin, helping her keep her mission in mind.
“I demand to know why you’re being so impossible and acting like an immature adolescent.”
Dimwit covered his eyes from the glare of the sunshine and said nothing. The blaring siren of an ambulance could be heard racing across a nearby street. Then there was silence. Amanda held her breath. Her grip on the handle tightened painfully but she refused to let go lest she forget why she was here. The boy’s glance was heating her from top to bottom, his eyes having turned a darker shade of blue and his full lips slightly parted, almost as if he too had trouble breathing.
“Maybe because I am an immature adolescent or maybe because I’m hurt you didn’t even ask my name.”
The sound of his voice, raspier than she could recall, brought Amanda back to earth. She fought back the confusing urge to either throttle the boy or kiss him.
“What is your name?” The words flew from her mouth before she could register them.
“Damian, my name is Damian. You’re Amanda.”
Amandra frowned. “How do you know?”
The boy took a step closer and she fought the urge to run.
“I’ll only tell you on one condition?”
Amanda glanced into his dancing blue eyes, a shiver ran down her spine, expectantly.
“What’s that?” her voice sounded strained to her own ears.
“If you let me kiss you.”
To be continued...www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com
http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/
Want to know more about young Amanda and Damien.
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