Summer Girl

By Coffie O. Lore

I was thirteen when I first met her. By the end of our first encounter, I knew she wasn't human. By the end of our second, I knew she was a friend. By our third encounter, I could tell that she loved me. And I wanted to love her too. Over the course of several summers, she had touched my life in ways I never knew a person could. But there was something about her that worried me...scared me. How do you love a being who has no regard for any member of the human race but you?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Coffie O. Lore
• Release date: Dec 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311949011

Coffie O. Lore

I write fantasy and science fiction, although I will occasionally dabble in comedy and romance. When I'm not writing, I'm reading, watching anime, or scouring the Internet for new music. Currently, I live and work in Warwick in the UK.

Book preview

Summer Girl

by

Maxwell Coffie

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Maxwell Coffie

Smashwords Edition Copyright 2013 Maxwell Coffie

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

Table of Contents

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

Epilogue

About the author

Special Thanks

Special thanks to the lovely Afua Sika, my editor. Also, thanks to Jamone22, who designed the cover page for this digital edition.

I.

I was thirteen when I first met Her.

She was standing in the yard in front of my house, staring up the old gnarly oak. Dark skin. Blond hair, styled into a very precise bowl-cut. She looked about my height. It was the middle of October, and it must have been nippy out. Yet, her tiny frame was draped in nothing more than a thin, translucent nightgown.

I had caught sight of her through the kitchen window. It was six twenty am on a Saturday, and I was pouring myself a bowl of cereal. I threw a wistful look back at the living room. The Dexter’s Lab marathon started in ten minutes.

I put down my cereal bowl, grabbed my crutches, and went outside.

I regretted my decision as soon as I opened the door. The air was cold, and I wished I’d thought to bring my jacket with me. I crunched through the fallen leaves as I made my way over to the girl. I assumed she could hear me coming. She didn’t turn.

As I stood next to her, I noticed that she was barefoot. Chocolate feet, amongst grades of copper and pumpkin colored leaves. It was…aesthetic.

She noticed me looking, and curled her toes.

Good morning, I said.

She looked at me; her grey eyes looked into me. There was an odd sort of white pebble, smack in the middle of her broad forehead. I also noticed for the first time that she was wearing a silver circlet around her neck.

She narrowed her eyes at me, and returned to staring up the tree.

Do you live around here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before, I said.

She opened her mouth, as if about to say something. She settled for pointing.

Did your cat get stuck? I asked. I tried to see if I could spot any felines between the branches. Nothing.

She gave me a look.

What? I laughed. You want me to climb up and check? I expected her to remark on my disability…or at least, to stare at the withered excuse I had for a left foot. I was wearing flip-flops so she could see my feet if she bothered to look.

She just stared into my face.

I can’t climb, I said, in case she still hadn’t put the pieces together.

She cocked her head at me.

I was incredulous. I am not going to climb this tree.

She stared.

I looked up again at the tree, and mumbled an uncertain, Okay.

I dropped my crutches and hopped over to the lowest branch. Then, I proceeded with my attempt to scale the oak. I grunted and panted a lot, as I climbed, relying on my upper body strength. I surprised myself when I reached the highest branches. I secretly hoped that she was impressed. But she seemed determined to stay silent, even when I climbed upon the topmost branch and sat on it.

There’s nothing here, I yelled down to her.

She cocked her head. Still, she said nothing.

I swung my feet in a very ‘hm, what shall we do now’ sort of way as I thought of what to do next. After a few awkward minutes had passed, I finally sighed and prepared to climb back down.

That was when I felt something fuzzy brush up against my leg. I yelped, lurched backwards, and lost my balance.

I hit the ground hard. Hard enough to break bones. But after a flash of darkness, I opened my eyes to find that, save for a strange tingling sensation in my left leg, I was fine.

The girl was standing over me, and there was a mound of snow-white fur in her arms. The mound had red beady eyes. She was hugging it pretty tightly.

Th-that’s your cat? I panted.

It was the strangest cat I had ever seen. There was so much hair, I couldn’t make out any ears. Or mouth. Or nose. Or legs. Or tail. I assumed it was an exotic breed of some sort.

"I would not call it a cat," she said, her first words alarming me a bit.

Her voice was soft, and echoing. It also seemed a little out of sync with the way her lips moved.

I sat up. What would you call it then?

"Obi. For that is her name. She threw a glance back at my house and asked, Is this your home?"

Yeah, I said, wanting to ask her why she talked funny.

"Could I trouble you for a medium-sized receptacle?"

I furrowed my brow. You mean, like a bucket?

"Filled with water," she added.

Sure, I can do that. Could you hand me my crutches please?

She was kind enough to oblige. As I led her to the old barn, I said, "My name is