Other Books by Jess C Scott
EYELEASH: A BLOG NOVEL
(teenage memoir)
4:PLAY
(erotic short story collection)
PORCELAIN
(portfolio of written + illustrative work)
THE INTERN
(upcoming “Sins07”series / Fall 2010)
THE OTHER SIDE OF LIFE
(upcoming cyberpunk/urban fantasy series / Fall 2010)
4:PLAY
Published by Jess C Scott, Smashwords Edition
Text copyright © 2009-2010 by Jess C Scott.
Cover art copyright © Thomas Hobbs @
http://www.flickr.com/people/thomashobbs/
All rights reserved.
1. Fiction/Erotica
2. Fiction/Short Stories
3. Fiction/Romance/Adult
Summary: Two guys see what’s really in their hearts, with the support—and shining example—of two girls in the same predicament.
4:Play book site:
http://www.missfey.blogspot.com
Notes:
The following story features in 4:Play (Jess’s multiple-genre-crossing
short story collection, of the same title).
An excerpt of ‘4:Play’ was originally published on Oysters & Chocolate.
. . . CONTENTS . . .
4:PLAY
Maéva stepped away from the computer screen. “My eyes are getting tired,” she said to Yin.
“Yeah, mine too.”
Yin was quiet and calm as the mid-afternoon itself. The 22-year old college senior was cool on the surface, like the placid lake a few minutes’ walk away from his studio loft.
“You know,” said Maéva, sitting on the edge of Yin’s bed. “I wonder if it’s because you’re Asian, that you’re always so...Zen-like.”
Yin looked up. “Zen? I don’t know, that kind of lifestyle is quite extreme. Though it means ‘minimalist’ in pop culture and contemporary design terms. ‘Minimalist’ is also designer speak for laziness, according to some people. So does that mean I’m lazy?”
Maéva laughed, her glossy heavy dark curls brushing against her shoulders, as she did so. “Well, I just meant it in the sense you’re always...unruffled.”
“You give me too much credit.”
“All these years we’ve been friends. I haven’t really seen you fall to pieces — not even once.” Maéva gazed out at a young couple returning home. The man was in cargo shorts and engrossed in a conversation on his cell. He was carrying a huge Nordstrom shopping bag. The woman was talking animatedly on her cell phone too. She was in a pair of cigarette jeans, tottering on mauve snakeskin heels. She held a baby in one arm.
“You haven’t either,” he replied. “Just occasionally.”
“Now you’re being too nice. I’ve gotta get my dark, dirty jokes from somewhere.”
“Oh yes, of course. I know of other people’s...secrets, too. Some are really in a mess.”
“Anyone I know?” Maéva crossed her legs, leaning her upper body forward, her body language hollering: GOSSIP QUEEN!
But the two had been good friends long enough to know she was fooling around. They’d been in the same group for a psychology module, in their second year at university.
“Well, a couple are on your Facebook friends list. One’s in her late twenties. Another’s our age, and looking pretty winkled, coz she smokes a lot and worships the sun. That’s all you’re gonna get.”
“It’s enough to make a decent guess.”
“I know. Ha ha.”
Yin jumped up, went over to the mirror on the side of his room wall. His movements were light, fast — a contradiction to the former calmness he projected.
They were such close friends, they lounged around and acted as if they had the room to themselves, without worrying about ‘what the other would think’.
He played about with his jet-black hair, flipping some spiky strands down over the forehead, to the side, then raking them up again. All the while, he thought: She’s cool. One of the few people that really accepts me for what I am, and doesn’t jar at me, or interrupt my thoughts incessantly. That lets me be.
All the while, Maéva thought: I still don’t really, really know Yin. Is he innocent? Dangerous? If he has a girlfriend — maybe it’s one of the girls in the photos on his cork board, like that waifish girl in the center — is he protecting her, or is he her intended victim? He’s self-assured — cocky even, at times, but somber and reflected at others. I’m sure I’m not the only woman who thinks this. And I don’t even like him — not that way — so I can imagine how berserk someone could get, if they were just dying to know more about him...
“Is it okay if I take a bath?” Maéva asked. They had forgotten to do so, after going for a quick dip in the L-shaped pool at Yin’s swanky apartment complex.
“Sure, go ahead — there’s some towels on one of the shelves, in the cupboard inside.”
It was her second time at his current home, that he’d moved into about a month ago.
She felt a bit irritated, but didn’t let it show. She felt irritated at herself, more than she did at Yin.
What was she trying to prove?