Date: Wed, 18 Jul 2001 07:34:58 +0800
From: Corey Castor <snatched@alloymail.com>
Subject: Bleak Future - Interlude

BLEAK FUTURE - Interlude

For some reason, I think that my kissing Paul is the beginning of
something. I feel like I've finally got myself on the path of people my
age. For the longest time, I felt a bit inhuman. I've always been an
apathetic person, on the verge of emotional entropy. But, for the first
time in my life, it's like I can feel. I don't mean with my five senses,
but with my heart, my soul, my mind.

I'm fifteen. It's June of my sophomore year. I'm sitting in the cafeteria
with Harley after Sophomore English. We both see a girl with a pound of
makeup on her face walking back and forth surrounded by three boys. Her
breasts are practically hanging out of her spaghetti strap tank top. She
might as well be naked, too much cleavage. Harley looks at me with what
seems like disapproval.

"I wish I had her body," she says. "My hips are so wide and my boobs are
smaller than my seven year-old sister's. Think she's hot? Would you go out
with a girl with a chest like that?"

"Maybe, I don't know," I answer. These things don't really interest me
anymore. I'm not sure why, but since the summer of my freshmen year, I've
been oblivious to my lascivious desires. I don't remember the last time I
had a hard on.

"So, she's not your type? Is that what you're saying?"

"I don't know. She might be."

"Okay, what's your type then?"

"Don't know. Maybe I don't got one," I say. I'm eating chocolate-vanilla
pudding with my fingers. I'm more interested in the swirls than in what
Harley is saying.

"Bullshit. Everyone has a type." She's taking this so seriously.

"Really. I don't have a type." The swirls and taste of the pudding are
making me dizzy. It's so sweet.

"Then... um... what about that guy?" She points to a blond boy walking by
our table. His hazel eyes gleam in the light of the sun and the fluorescent
bulbs of the cafeteria.

"What about him?" I'm looking at her now. I don't understand what she's
insinuating.

"Think he's hot?"

"Uh... am I the only one noticing that that kid's a guy?"

Harley sighs. "So what are you, then, if you don't have a type? I mean,
it's not like you have a girlfriend or anything. You don't even talk about
girls."

"I don't get it. What?" I drop the cup of pudding. She's got my attention.

"Bi? Hetero? Homo? What?"

"Haha. None of the above." I say, with a little smirk.

"No. That wasn't a choice. It can't be 'none of the above'."

"Yeah, it can. I figure I'm like an amoeba."

"Huh?"

"You know. I'm asexual... like an amoeba."

"Oh." She looks at me, confused. "You don't want to ever have sex?"

"I don't know. I just don't think about it." My broad smile perplexes
her. "Weird, huh?"

"Yeah... weird."

"Yup." I now focus on finishing my chocolate milk. I love everything
chocolate.



Copyright (c) 2001 Castor

(7/17/01)