As with all my stories, all characters are over 18 years old. This is a short scene with Joey and Abby in Joey's room. Thank you for reading.
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"What time do you work on Saturday?" Abby asked, sitting on my bed and twirling her long blonde hair in her fingers.
I knelt in my closet digging through old boxes. "Here! I found it." I pulled a faded box from the dark ground and stood. "I spent hours and days playing with this shit for years." I dumped the contents of the box on my dresser. Tiny circuit boards, receivers, and various other electronics clinked and clatter and fell silent in a loose pile. "I'd spend weeks making a terrible remote car, then tear it all apart and work on a can opener. Good times."
"Dork." Abby stood and wrapped her arms around me from behind. "Now answer me. What time do you work Saturday?"
Abby's voice had her trademark subterfuge. Abby's mom was British, and her accent was thick. Mark Twain said an expert was someone from out of town. Maybe that's why English people always sounded smart to me.
I could hear the influence of Abby's mom's voice when Abby spoke. But Abby's voice had a unique spice that always made you wonder what was in the hand behind her back. "Why?" I asked hesitantly. She always had an agenda.
She laughed. "Can't a girl ask her boyfriend what time he works without an inquisition?" She kissed the back of my neck. "I just want to make plans."
"Plans?" I dropped the small power unit I held and turned to embrace Abby with a smile. "What sort of plans are you making?"
"Well, just finalize plans, really. I already know what we are doing, just need to set times." She pop-kissed me.
"Oh, you know what we are doing?" I loved Abby, and she made me laugh, but the way she assumed me was a little aggravating.
"Yes, dear, Joey." We held our embrace and stared at each other. It was a stand-off, a challenge. We both pretended to be angry. When I gave up and cracked a cheesy grin, her resolve broke. "Fine!" She huffed and sat on the bed. "Tell me about your dorky toys."
"What you are looking at is the Philips CS4 Electronics Set. It was delivered to me by a fat guy and some reindeer in the middle of the night when I was eight."
"Did you make a TV to watch more Mr. Wizard?" She joined me at the dresser and lifted a small gear set. She turned it in her hands, and dropped it to the pile with a clink-splash.
"No, but I did make walkie talkies while watching Mr. Wizard." We laughed together. It was a total accident, but I remembered Beth at that moment. She and I had an eerily similar conversation one night in this very room. It was real deja-vu.
"Hey, what's wrong, baby? Joey?"
"I'm fine."
"Beth?" She cupped my face with her hands. "You are thinking about Beth aren't you."
How could she know that? "Maybe, not so much her. I just remembered a night when she was here."
"Right here where I am standing." Abby pointed at the floor.
"Pretty much. We were sitting in the floor act- Whoa." I exclaimed as Abby pulled me to the floor.
"Did she suck your dick here?"
"Not that night." I smirked. "That night she just kept wanting me to tell her things, just random facts. I felt like she was making fun of me." I nervously laughed. I still was not used to talking about Beth in front of Abby.
"Oh, that's right. All the girls are making fun of you. I forgot." Abby rolled her eyes.
I thought about Laura showing me her pussy in Physics class and begging me to have sex with her. I thought about Jess being so weird. I thought of the way my friend, Jennifer, and her pseudo-sister Misty had been flirting with me. I mostly thought of Charlsie. "I'm starting to suspect my suspicion was incorrect. Girls might not be making fun of me."