Michael's First Kiss

By Edua Erasmus

High school can be tough - especially when you're in love with a straight guy. John has been the object of Michael's unrequited love for almost a year, but fate has a funny way of bringing people together when you least expect it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edua Erasmus
• Release date: Mar 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463444443

Edua Erasmus

I'm 34 years young, from South Africa and when I sit down to write, I don't write straight-forward stories (pun intended).A book should do two things to a reader:1) take your imagination on a journey2) have a bit of eye-candy on the cover...and I hope I succeed in this.My stories are hard to classify as they doesn't stick to just one genre and though I don't write erotica, some stories (like "Delinquent's Survival Guide") does contain some M2M action for the reader's enjoyment.As always, if you enjoyed my work please leave a review as it's like applause to a writer.Be sure to follow on Facebook for updates.

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MICHAEL’S FIRST KISS

By Edua Erasmus

Smashwords edition

Copyright 2019 Eduard Joseph Erasmus

Front cover design by Edua Erasmus

Where to find the author online:

Facebook

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are

not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. Any resemblance to any person or

persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved

The right of Edua Erasmus to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him under the South African Copyright Act of 1978 (as amended).

Thank you for downloading this free eBook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, copied, distributed for commercial and non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own free copy from the online store you downloaded this book so they can also discover other works by this author.

CHAPTER ONE

2015

I was the guy in high school you probably picked on or made fun of – a bit on the nerdy side (except I didn’t wear glasses) and a loner throughout most of my high school years. I had one friend, Jessica, who I shared everything with from lunch to secrets. Our nicknames given by the other kids, unbeknown to us until years later, was Laurel and Hardy because I was slim and tall and she was, well, short and round.

I wouldn’t go as far as saying we had the type of friendship where we finished each other’s sentences, but I’ll admit that we had the same sense of humor and taste in old school horror movies – something I found hard to find in a friend and it probably was why she was my only friend back then. We especially loved old horror movies from the sixties and seventies; a favourite pastime of ours on a Sunday evening.

We’d spend most of our lunch breaks under a big old tree at the edge of the football field away from the sun and the cruelty of verbally abusive bullies. We’d always share the sandwiches her mother put in and it always looked like she put in extra. Whether she knew I came from a poor household was unknown, but if she knew she was good at hiding it when she so casually handed me a sandwich from the neon pink Tupperware.

Though we shared almost everything, I had a few secrets I kept from her for my own protection. I had my eye on John since the beginning of the year – not that he even knew I existed. He was your typical blonde, handsome and popular guy who everyone liked for just being himself. He spent every lunch break on the bleachers with his two equally handsome friends in perfect line of sight for me to watch him from underneath our tree. I say our tree because I can hardly remember anyone else ever sitting under that tree except us.

Michael. I heard Jessica say, You did it again.

Did what?

You zoned out while I’m talking to you. What’s on your mind?

I stared at John a moment longer, turned to her and said, Nothing.

I took a bite of the sandwich; it was chicken mayonnaise. I loved chicken mayonnaise. As I chewed I could feel her eyeing me up and down without saying a word as if waiting for me to come clean of a dirty secret. I tried to ignore her while I ate, but the piercing of her judgmental look became too much to handle after a while.

What? I asked.

Where were you just now? You were miles away.

I just couldn’t tell her that I was secretly in love with John. Knowing her she’d tell me that it was just a phase and incredibly stereotypical of a gay guy to fall in love with the most popular guy in school. Perhaps she was right. It may be stereotypical of me to fall in love with a guy I could never have, but the heart’s a complicated thing and wants what it wants.

John was also the guy of my (wet) dreams more often than I could care to recall. Even though I’ve never