T-T-Temptation

Girl and guy (with a stutter) at a party. It's more interesting than it initally sounds.

Right across the room from Plato, Clara stood.

   Was it just him, or did the room get hotter when he looked at her?

   He moistened his lips with his tongue and filled a second red cup with beer. Loud dubstep blasted throughout the room, and the heat of a hundred teenage bodies swarmed upon him. With his most confident stride, he made his way over to her--who he considered the teenage goddess.

   Her hair was blonde and her face was a delicate heart shape. Her eyes were almond-shaped and brown, and her lips were pink and shaped like a plum. Her legs were long and bald, and she had a slight overbite (which Plato thought fit her so perfectly). Today she donned a white tank top with an unbuttoned plaid shirt over it, denim shorts and cowboy boots. He thought she was the most beautiful creature on Earth, just as he had since Freshman year.

   "H-hi," he stammered. Damn that stutter of his! It had been his greatest enemy since he could first remember, especially around Clara.

   She didn't smile at him, but her face softened when she saw him. "Hello, Plato," she murmured, not even trying to be seductive. Somehow, she had a beauty that was so natural, so pure, and yet so provocative. She had never touched makeup throughout her young life, and for that Plato was eternally glad. He never wanted her to change, even in the slightest. Perfection could not be improved.

   As he stared at her face, she lifted a Marlboro to her lips and took a short drag. She blew out a puff of smoke in the other direction as Plato offered her the beer.

   "No thanks," she refused, taking a longer drag this time. "I don't drink."

   He smiled. "But you smoke?" he asked, feeling more confident as his stutter warded the sentence. He passed the second beer cup to a boy that was passing boy. The boy gave Plato a grateful smile and sauntered off.

   She frowned and cocked her head to the side. "What's that supposed to mean, then?"

   Startled, he blinked a few times as he felt his stutter creep up on him again. "N-no! Nothing, th-that's not--"

   "It's really hot in here." Clara said suddenly, as if Plato had never even spoken. She looked him in the eye. "Do you wanna go outside?"

    Grateful that he no longer had to uphold his half of the conversation, he nodded eagerly. He clumsily followed her out of the crowded room; her confident stride leading the way.

   Once outside, the midsummer air came as a relief from the loud, smoldering room.  Plato threw the plastic cup on the floor and reveled in the smell of gasoline in the air.

   Sweat trickled down Clara's neck onto her chest. She tied her plaid shirt around her waist and put out her cigarette on the floor. Plato merely stared at her, his excitement growing. He tried to resist the urge and look away, but it seemed impossible.

   She caught him staring and smiled coyly. "They say it's evil, you know." she purred.

   He immediately looked up, once again startled. "What?"

   "Temptation. It's said to be evil." She looked off into the distance, past the buildings and city, into something Plato could not see-- what any man would find unfathomable. It was one of those moments he knew it was a woman thing. It was useless to even try to understand.

  Clara began to smile again, faintly, as if she was amused by something. "Back in like, the twelve-hundreds, men used to think that women were evil: seeds of temptation." She donned a seductive look, with her chin tilted and her eyes slanted. "Maybe we are."

   He gulped, nervous again. But then he mustered up all of his self-esteem and asked, "Well, d-do you think-k it's evil?"

   "No, I think it's human." she replied. "But if it hurts someone else, then it's evil." Her face darkened. "If you think of it, temptation is everywhere. Temptation to procrastinate, to masturbate, copulate...gamble." She smiled at the last one. "What do you think?"

   He shrugged. "I dunno."

   She was frustrated by his lack of interest. "No, really. Right now you're tempted."

   His face grew hot and his cheeks became red.

   She walked closer to him until they were two inches apart. She could feel his hot breath on her forehead. He's not bad-looking, she reasoned. Dark hair, light blue eyes... nice nose, and even abs.

   "I see you staring at me in class, and I feel your eyes on me in the hallways." she lowered her voice to a whisper, as if anyone else might hear them. "You love me, don't you, Plato?"

   He nodded and stared into the blue abyss of her eyes.

   She pressed herself against him and kissed him furiously. Then she whispered in his ear: "They say it's evil, you know."

   "Temptation."

  

Author's Note

Did anybody notice his change at the end of the story?

Reviews

[Fenner]

Wow, this is a really good story. The characters were interesting and thier casual back and forth converation grabbed my attention right away. I wanted to see where it was going, what was going to happen. When Clara whispers to him at the end 'Temptation' it was brilliant.
Your descriptions were done just enough to set the scene in my head and I don't think that they were overly used at all.
I didn't notice anything change about Plato at the end though, maybe you should extend it a little more and make it more obvious. Great job, send me a read request if you write another.

[Samuel Dickens]

I can't say I noticed a change in him, but then, Plato acts a lot like I did when young. I was deathly afraid of girls, but if I ever got face to face with one the way they were, my hormones would've taken over for sure.
This is a fine piece of writing, playful with a hint of naughty. I like it.

[Collette Paige]

I love it. The description, but sometimes too much description can be bad.

When Plato is describing Clara, I understand that your trying to capture her beauty, but you could've done it in one or two fluid sentences instead of one sentence for every knew feature.

I still loved Clara's philosophy on things...it got me thinking.

great job.