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Just A Tiny Spark

Date: 8/12/2015, Categories: Fiction, Author: LushStories, Rating: 83.3, Source: sexstories.com

me expectantly. I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Nothing?” he asked, almost pleading. “Nothing.” “Well, at least it isn’t for someone else,” he joked. Somehow, we had started walking again. A bunch of ducks landed noisily in the pond and started quacking, distracting us for a minute. I almost smiled at their innocent exuberance. “You’re taking this awfully well,” I observed. The gravel crunched under our shoes, and a gnat bit my arm. I swiped it away and rubbed the itching spot. “It’s because it hasn’t really sunk in yet,” he replied. “Just wait until it does. Then I’ll find a secluded spot where nobody can see or hear manly me bawl his eyes out. After that, I’m going to go into town and get pissed enough so I don’t remember my own name, and the day after I’m going to be so hungover that I can blame every miserable moment on the drinking.” “Jake!” I protested, coming to a halt. “What?” He stopped a few feet away, but his eyes never left the ground. “That won’t make it better.” The tip of his shoe painted a circle in the gravel. “But it’ll make it different, at least.” I thought I glimpsed a tear. He turned around and started walking again, and a lance of pain speared my heart. “Jake?” “What?” He didn’t turn around this time. “I’m sorry.” “I’m too.” He took another step. “Wait!” God, this was hard. I couldn’t imagine how hard it had to be for him. “You’re a wonderful person. I hope you find someone who deserves you.” The sound of his footsteps slowly faded, and I plopped ... down onto the strip of grass next the the path, not caring that my skirt was getting moist and dirty. The ducks fled from my choked sobs and swam to the other side of the pond. The sun set down behind the trees with beautiful layers of violet, red and ocher, and I felt incredibly guilty. * * * * Somehow it was as if my rambunctious roommates had taken my breakup with Jake as a signal to become even more obnoxious. At least, it felt like that - even though I knew that they were just doing their thing and delving into the fascination of computers and the internet all the way. But what I needed was solitude, and I wasn’t getting that in our room, which had been turned into Central Nerdistan. So I found myself increasingly often hiding myself away in the remote corner of the library’s reading room. At first, it was only to do my homework in silence, but lately, it had become my second home. Mrs. Henderson even turned a blind eye when I dug a sandwich or drink out of my bag, and when nobody else was there, she sometimes sat down with me and we made small talk. I loved these talks. She was educated and quick-witted, and when I had had a bad day with my lectures, she always managed to cheer me up and find something to compliment me for. My tongue-tied moments grew fewer and fewer - even though I still had these dizzy, lighthearted flashes every so often - and I started to regard her as a friend. We analyzed the famous writers and poets and made fun about them. We both agreed that ...