Foreword
A Touch Away is a rewrite of the cringingly titled 'The Tit-Juggler'. After writing the first chapter, I found myself pulled in directions different from the one I initially had set out on. So this was inevitable. The old one will remain up. If you read the original version, you'll probably spot the similarities and differences.
All characters depicted having sex are 18 or above.
***
Chapter 1
The last days of school had rolled around in the blink of an eye. There's a certain sense of contentment in the air. Almost everyone had received offers or at least had applied. I had my fair share of rejections, but one college was kind enough to take me in, so I too shared the laid-back atmosphere.
Sure, the world wasn't perfect. There were starving children in Africa, and more than a handful of individuals with superpowers running around, doing questionable stuff. But we lived in a small town far removed from any of that, and times couldn't be better.
It was during these halcyon days, on one fine Monday, that I was walking to class, eyes glued to my phone, headphones plugged in. I wasn't really paying much attention to my phone, and even less to anyone around me. If anything, my head was in the clouds. Next thing I knew, I had bumped into someone and ended up on my butt.
"Fuck," I muttered.
I'm the kind of guy who tries to avoid drawing attention, and this was exactly the kind of thing that drew all eyes. Among the ever-present cacophony of the school corridor, I picked up laughter. They were obviously directed at me. Well, it wasn't my fault that Tiktok was so addictive!
"Can't you watch where you're going?"
She sounded angry and arrogant. As soon as she had spoken, others chimed in with laughter, mindlessly following the leader. Popular people always had followers like that. But that wasn't what I was worried about.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I thought.
When it came to avoiding people, this was one of the two groups I wanted to avoid the most - the cheerleaders! (The other being the jocks.) I had decided a long time ago to not pay any attention to these stuck up snobs. And now, it seemed like I was in front of the entire squad.
The girl who spoke wasn't the one I had bumped into. No. It was worse. She spoke in a soft voice that still cut through all the noise.
"It's okay, guys, I'm alright. Are you okay?"
The moment she spoke, everyone shut up. After all, it was Claire. The captain of the cheerleaders. Ask anyone who the prettiest, hottest or sexiest girl was, and her name would be the first one they would utter.
Part of that was her natural appearance. She had shoulder-length red hair that framed her pretty girl-next-door face perfectly. And then she always dressed for the part as well. For example, today she was wearing a white buttoned top and a small denim skirt that didn't even reach half the length of her thighs. I didn't know if that was even allowed.
Now of course it wasn't any of my business if people thought she was hot. What infuriated me was that people actually thought she was a nice person! Apparently, she was nice to everybody, regardless of who they were, and that made her even more popular. It's crazy how everyone thought she was just perfect! Hell, even the bitter losers didn't want to badmouth her.
Even now, she looked at me with what appeared to be concern. Extending a hand in my direction, she asked again, "Are you okay?"
I wasn't like the other guys though. I'd give it to her for being hot. She was. But neither pretty airheads nor mean hotties were my type. I would not be swayed by a cheerleader, especially not a two-faced bitch.
"Kyle?" Her voice snapped me out.
She was really good at pulling off that kind-and-concerned look. But I could see through it. That haughty arrogance hidden behind her facade. She couldn't fool me.
What I wanted to do was to slap her hand, but that would be a little too hostile. I wasn't looking to make enemies either. In the end, I grasped her hand - it was such a soft and slender hand - and stood up. Her eyes widened as she glanced at where our hands met. She looked physically bothered by touching me.
If you're gonna act so high and mighty, why even pretend?
"I'm okay, thank you," I said as I turned away.
And I heard her say, "You're... welcome, Kyle."
I didn't think she'd know my name. With a confused look, I kept walking towards my classroom. Strange. Girls like her never paid any attention to me.
I managed to get to class on time. The moment Melinda saw me, she burst into laughter and just couldn't stop. Her twin, Jane, looked at her quizzically, but Mel couldn't speak.
"Shut up," I grumbled.
Jane asked again, "What happened?"
Mel somehow managed to say, "If only you saw him!" That started another bout of laughter from her.
Annoyed, I said, "I didn't see you helping."
Catching her breath, she said, "Why would I? In fact, I'd give both of my arms just to see that again!"
With a grunt of displeasure, I looked away from her and towards the front of the class. Bad move. Our teacher, a middle-aged woman, peered over her glasses, glaring at us. I felt myself shrinking under her gaze. Even when she wasn't glaring, she just had a bone-chilling aura around her.
"Would you three like to share something with the class?"
Jane apologized. "No, Ms. Walker. We're sorry."
Her glare softened, then she turned away. Perks of having a model student as a friend. I sighed in relief.
Mel remained silent, but there was not a shred of guilt on her face. Tight-lipped, she smiled, as if mocking me. I decided to not pay any more attention to her. Jane was shooting me a concerned look. I shook my head, hoping that would satisfy her.
As I left the classroom, the sound of laughter made me tense. I looked around to see if any of the eyes were on me, looking for pointed fingers.
I sighed in relief. It seemed like my anonymity would remain. With things seemingly setting back to place, I made my way to my bicycle.
***
A couple years ago, Dad had insisted that we get jobs and try to manage our money. I didn't have a problem with that, financial independence was a nice idea. The job I ended up going for was at the local library. Sure, the pay wasn't great, but nothing beats having money. They also gave me good hours.
Working at the library had its moments. Like all jobs, some things can be done mindlessly, and I had really let myself sink into my thoughts. When I felt a tap on my shoulder, I jumped up and turned around.
To my horror, Claire stood in front of me. Her face didn't have any expressions, which was quite unnerving.
I began, "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't intentionally bump..."
Before I could go on, she said nonchalantly, "Why are you getting so defensive? I didn't come for that."
I blinked. Then why was she even talking to me?
"I just wanted to say hi, but you didn't seem like you could hear me," she said nonchalantly.
In her eyes, I could see amusement. Now even more confused, I scowled. Why would she want to say hi to me? It didn't make sense. What game was she playing?
"Umm, okay," I said, confusion showing on my face. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
Her face betrayed no emotions. "Nothing, I just said I wanted to say hi."
I didn't know how to respond to that. Uncomfortably, I looked at her and muttered, "Okay?"
Then, she snorted. Her mask broke as a mischievous little smile crept around the side of her mouth.
"I'm just messing around, Kyle," she said with a laugh. Then she added, "Hey, when does your shift end?"
"In two hours," I replied with uncertainty.
"Cool. Meet me at Law then. Okay?" she said, as if that was a very normal thing to say to me.
Scowling, I asked, "Why?"
Her smile widened, the amusement still twinkling in her eyes. Something was cooking in her head, and it bothered me to not know.
"Come on, what do you have to lose?"
What, indeed?
"Fine," I said, not trying to conceal my suspicion.
Smiling at me with that strange gleam in her eyes, she grabbed a book from a shelf and walked away. I couldn't help being surprised that the book was A Room With A View. I didn't know that cheerleaders read. I myself didn't read any classics unless I was forced to, I couldn't imagine what drove her to pick it up.
As always, I was minding my own business and didn't say anything. But I couldn't help my eyes following her figure. The skirt displayed her shapely legs, the delicate muscles working as she walked. I stopped myself as my eyes drifted to her skirt, finding it difficult to look away from her butt. Claire was a slender girl, and from the outline of her skirt, so was her butt.
Get a grip
, I thought.
This is not the time!
I felt nervous, my thoughts racing.
Why does she want to meet me? Why Law? That's... one of the sections no one goes to... That can't be a good thing, can it?
Left unchecked, my thoughts wouldn't stop racing. I forced myself to calm down. And even though I couldn't think of any good reason for her to want to meet me, I had to admit that I was curious.
A lot of other guys in my shoes would've been excited at the prospect of even speaking to her. But I wouldn't. I couldn't. I might not know her well. Hell, I knew very little about her. But I still know what she was really like. I remembered the first time I saw her. Four years ago, when I moved into this town. Even then, she was as pretty as a vision. But I'll never forget her eyes. They were full of contempt and disdain. She never participated in any bullying, but her eyes were always looking down on anyone she and her posse didn't deem cool enough.
And then I got into a fight with her then-boyfriend. Calling it a fight doesn't do it justice, he beat the shit out of me. That's what you get for trying to defend a weak and scrawny looking kid. Claire wasn't there when it began. She came in later and even stopped the fight. But I'll never forget the look of disbelief she shot us. How dare we, the wastes of space, get in the way of her boyfriend and try to resist him?
"Come with me," she had said to him. Not single word was spared for us.
That was the last time I had interacted with her. Ever since then, I've actively avoided her, to the point that she was invisible to me unless she literally stood in front of me. Case in point, today's instances.
But it wasn't all bad. I told myself I'd never let myself get beaten like this, and I made a friend.
