An Idiot in Love (a laugh out loud comedy) Read Online Free Page A

quickly interrupted. ‘What I’m saying is, if you throw up on me then you’ll be the hero and I’ll get just enough hate to stop me being the hero, but because of the first incident -- when I threw up on you -- it won’t be enough to turn me into a complete Billy no-mates like you,’ I finished with a grin, pleased with myself. ‘What do you say?’
                  She punched me.
                  It was the first time I had been punched in the face. I was surprised. I was annoyed. I was hurt. After the initial shock I removed a protective hand from my face to tell Kerry these things, and then she punched me again.
                  Years later I would laugh along with friends when I told them that my first kiss had been with the first girl to beat me up, but at the time the only thing I could concentrate on was protecting my face as I rolled onto the floor whilst she straddled me like a horse. Her surprisingly powerful fists hammered into every part of my body.
                  There were no teachers nearby and no students to cause a commotion and bring attention from an elder, and as I didn’t know how to fight or even if I should hit a girl -- my mother had always told me not to, but a situation where my life may depend on it had never cropped up -- I just lay there and took the punches.
                  The fight was one-sided and lasted for a brutal five minutes. I like to think that Kerry stopped out of sympathy for the blubbering wreck beneath her, but the truth was her arms were tired.
                  When she finished beating the living shit out of me she crawled off my torso and pulled herself back up onto the bench.
                  I watched her through a gap in my arms. She stared at me and I could see that the flame in her eyes had died. Something else lingered there, pity perhaps.
                  I slowly pulled myself to my feet and dusted myself down. I wiped the remnants of tears from my eyes and allowed a few drops to trickle down my cheek. Meeting Kerry’s pitied gaze I told her: ‘There was no need for that.’
                  She sunk her head into her chest. I heard a muffled groan. ‘Get lost Kieran.’
                  She didn’t need to tell me twice. I hobbled out of the cloakroom and onto the playground. My body ached but apart from a few scratches on my cheek and a minor cut on my lip, my face remained intact.
                  I expected Kerry to boast, and I was prepared to allow her that honour. She was a girl but she was tough, my friends would mock me for a while but eventually they would agree that, given the chance, she could beat them up as well. But Kerry didn’t tell anyone. She remained an outcast for the rest of the school year.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    2
     
    In Lenny’s Footsteps
     
                  After Kerry Newsome had kissed me and then tried to kill me, I became even more wary and unsure of the opposite sex. For most of my youth I thought girls were “icky” and weren’t to be touched or befriended, and my friends, being of the same age, mostly agreed.
                  There was one exception though. His name was Lenny and he was a lady-killer from the age of eight. At seven years, three-hundred and sixty-four days old, Lenny was just as repulsed by the opposite sex as the rest of us, but after a “word” with his dad on his birthday, all of that changed.
                  His dad was drunk and clearly unsure about which birthday it was, as he told his son that he needed to: Grow up, be a man. Kiss girls, play the field!
                  Surprisingly, Lenny’s dad was not insane. Lenny took heed and during his eighth birthday party he put aside his childhood tendencies and turned on the charm in front of a mixed