Author's Note: All characters in this story are 18 or over. Any resemblance to people (living or dead) is purely coincidental. Hope you have a good time with this :) This was written a few years ago and while I don't think it's the best thing ever, someone encouraged me to post it a bit ago, so I'm finally dumping it here.
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The first thing I remember noticing about her was the trickle of sweat running down her back. It was nearly a hundred degrees out and humid, so it's not like that was out of the ordinary. She was chatting with her friends in front of me in line while I stood utterly engrossed in the tiny bead as it made its way from the base of her short-cropped purple hair down her spine towards the top of her blouse.
Honestly, I was just zoning out, thinking about my friends. They were the ones who had dragged me to this stupid amusement park in the first place, but now they'd wimped out on the biggest, newest rollercoaster, a shining steel beast known, apparently, by the name "Throatpuncher GIGASMASH". Well, I wasn't about to let a bunch of wet blankets get in the way of my chance to actually have some fun on this trip. If I was paying forty bucks for the privilege of standing in line, slowly dehydrating in heat-warning weather, interspersed by nauseating drops for five minutes--well, the theme park was going to have to earn it.
The drip slid another few inches down her tanned skin, over her next vertebrae, finally reaching the band that ran along the top of the blouse. The shirt hung off her smooth, slightly freckled shoulders, and I couldn't help but think how attractive they looked.
I snapped back to myself as the recorded message blared over the intercom announcing the arrival of the next rollercoaster. I looked up ahead, trying to gauge how much of the line would fit on this cart, hoping that we'd all fit on somehow.
The line trudged ahead. A bored-looking, acne-spattered teen was scanning bracelets as people piled into the carts. It was looking dangerously full as the line worked its way forwards.
Finally, the group ahead of me reached the person with tickets. The worker held up their hand and gestured for them to stop. "Sorry, we only have room for four more. You five will have to wait." I groaned. The girl's group of five was just too many to keep me here one cycle longer.
A square, well-muscled guy up front of their little group with dark brown skin and dreads turned back. "Look, Kez... you wouldn't mind if we went ahead? I'm sure another cart will be along in a second, and we'll wait for you at the end."
The girl I'd been accidentally staring at rolled her eyes and stifled a laugh. "Oh sure, now that you're ahead of me it's ok to split up, but on the flume ride you wouldn't let me go ahead. Yeah, whatever, knock yourselves out. I'll text you when I'm off."
The other four made noises of appreciation as they pushed through the gate and lined up, but I was already zoning out again, back against the slim metal fencing the loading zone was surrounded with. I was trying to stay in the tiny sliver of shade afforded by the roof of the loading zone by leaning as far back as I could. Behind me, I felt a slight whoosh as the cart shot forward, fully loaded, with a thin scraping sound. I rested my head back, eyes closed, trying to ignore the beads of sweat trickling down from my hairline.
"Hey, uh. I don't mean to be weird, but, do I know you from somewhere?"
A pause trailed on for a few seconds until I realized the question had been directed at me. With a jolt, I turned and looked to the remaining girl, now alone at the head of the line. "I don't think I recognize you, but then I've never had a head for faces," I said with a wry grin. "If the name would help, I usually go by Enn."
It was only a moment, but I saw her eyes flick up and down, scoping me out. I was a bit taller than her, maybe one or two inches, with a decent (if wiry) build. I was wearing shitty, paint-splattered cargo shorts that showed off my toned calves, with a tank top exposing my already-sunburned shoulders. She wrinkled her nose slightly, thinking. "I feel like I woulda remembered a name like that. Nah, sorry. I was thinking about this guy I knew from middle school, but I think his name was Paul." She shrugged.
"Poor kid. It must suck to have a name like that. Everyone confusing you with the four other Pauls in your class and plus there's the whole religious thing to contend with. Good luck living up to a literal saint."
She snorted. It was cute. "I guess so. Didn't you ever get bullied, though? With a name like that?"
Now it was my turn to shrug, turning to face her. "Eh. It's the cost of doing business. And now, people just accept it. I'm probably more confident because of my name."
With a grin, she leaned back on the fence next to me. "I guess that's a nice way to think about it. I never thought I'd get to that point, but I guess even in high school I barely got made fun of. Now, no one even blinks at my name. I'm Kez, by the way."
She paused and closed her eyes as a cool breeze blew through. It ruffled her pixie-cut purple-dyed hair, and the loose blouse seemed to ripple like the surface of a pond. I stole a quick glance at her now that I was facing her. From a pair of sneakers by a brand I didn't recognize her legs extended, curvy at the hips but attractively long. She wore a pair of ultra-short, torn-up jean shorts that showcased a tightly curvy butt. Her blouse began a few inches above her relatively straight waist, showing off her slim belly. The cute, rippling blouse sat a few inches off her shoulders, exposing her collarbone, and the way she leaned against the fence pushed her breasts out. I didn't notice any bra straps--it was way too hot for them anyways, I thought to myself--then felt somewhat ashamed for even thinking about it. Still, I couldn't help but think about their curves, hidden slightly under the floaty shirt, but generously-enough sized. I shook my head, trying my best to snap back from fantasy-land to reality. "Kez, huh? Is that short for something?"
"Kezia. As a kid, I thought my parents hated me. Had to correct every damn teacher I ever had, I swear." She cracked an eye open and smirked at me. "I got 'em back, though. When I'd play scrabble with my parents, I'd always play my own name. And damn, it's hard to come back from that one."
I laughed. "Glad you got your chance to show them."
Another breeze buffeted us from behind as the next cart finally pulled into the station. The sleepy teen was back, opening the gate, as the loudspeakers blared some message about safety again. Kez held out her arm to the worker, who scanned her wristband, then mine as Kez raced all the way to the back of the cart. "Be sure to fill every available seat," the worker droned, nearly shoving me through the turnstyle and into the loading zone.