Reading In The Park

I was in the park reading, Dead Europe, Christos Tsiolkos. Good book, it kept me captivated.

The grass was green, the sky blue, a gentle breeze blew.

A school boy from the local catholic boy's school was playing soccer, on his own. The blue tail of his school shirt hung out over his arse. His shirt was unbuttoned and his school tie was pulled to one side. I could see the hairs on his chest.

A cute wog-boy to be sure.

I looked back to my book, not thinking any more about anything.

“Hey mate,” said a voice. I looked up, the soccer player was smiling at me. His foot was resting on top of the white ball. “Do you play ball?”

My mind reeled with a hundred answers.

“Shouldn't you be in school?” I said.

“Sure,” he said, with a huge smile. “But I'm not.”

“Why not?” I said.

He let his head tilt to one side. “It's my eighteenth birthday. I should be able to have the day off on my eighteenth birthday, shouldn't I?”

I refocussed on him. Eighteen, I thought. “Too big for school, huh?” I had to admit, he was sexy.

“Too big today.” He smiled and seemed to point to his crotch, but I assumed he was pointing to the soccer ball. “We could play ball?”

“It's not the type of ball that I'm used to playing with…” I looked him up and down, unashamedly. “But you're close.” I couldn’t help myself. It just came out before I’d really thought it through.

He looked down at his fingers. I think he got it. He seemed to blush. He started to kicked the ball around with his foot. He kept looking up at me, with those big eyes. Stealing glances. Wanting eyes. Intent. Hopeful.

I knew what those eyes were saying.

“My names Carlo,” he said. “What’s yours?”

“Josh,” I said.

“You dribbling in front of me?” 

“No, that's basketball,” he said. He laughed, and blushed.

“Oh course, I knew that,” I said.

“So, you wanna play?” He looked at me so intently, I was pretty sure he was using the euphonism.

“I’m not much of a soccer player.”

“You just have to kick it.”

“You make it sound so easy…”

“It is easy,” he said. “All you have to do is give it a go.”

I contemplated giving it a go momentarily, it’s not often I get such an invite, if ever, but my danger danger Will Robinson voice went off in my head. “Oh, I don’t think I’m much of a soccer player, sorry.” I should have given it a go, I thought.

He practiced his fancy leg work, kicking the white ball from one foot to the other, in front of me.

“Okay,” he said.

Then I watched him kicked the ball back to the green lawn where he was to begin with. The kid had good form.

I smiled and went back to my book.