Adams Transformation Short Story by Jess Gissel
Adams Transformation Short Story by Jess Gissel

Adams Transformation

By: Jane Gissel

Adams Transformation Short Story by Jess Gissel
Adams Transformation Short Story by Jess Gissel

His chiseled Adonis body seemed like it was made of abalone  or perhaps it was like white marble. Nevertheless, feeling his right bowling ball sized shoulder against the cold plaster wall he leaned back in anticipation. He felt her hair against his stomach as she dipped lower on his body. His mind seemed lost a little bit, sure she was beautiful, but he had things that were disturbing him right now. Things he needed to pay attention to. It was rare that he need to pay attention to something.


Her blonde hair is parted in the middle and fell past her shoulders. She had fine hair, almost royal-like hair, golden hair and it smelled like berries. So sweet and kind to his senses. He reached out to guide her face a little bit. His veins bulging from his worked out arms. Testosterone was certainly coursing through his body. To listen to the modern pop culture beat the music he on on the background, he was pretty sure he was going to have this to some video that he was editing.


He leaned back trying to pay attention, the gagging sounds and wet mouth noises usually got him worked up. He looked up from watching her, and stared forward to see the project that he was in middle of working on. His laptop glowed highlight in his skin in an angelic way. His eyes showed disinterest In what was happening to him, but as soon as they contacted his laptop they sparkled. On his laptop was his latest project, one he most certainly paid attention to.


He was editing a series of TV news briefs on the latest murder that was going on around this small town. For some reason he was enraptured with it. Other than his English teacher from last year there really wasn’t anything that had interested him as much as this. Something about the idea of someone’s life flowing out from them and somebody else obtaining pleasure from it rubbed him the right in way.


Brushing one of his curls from his face, he eventually he just leaned down to her tugging her up towards his face and said I just can’t go again today.  Having broken the spell, she gave him this incredibly pouty face,  and muttered I think you bit my face.  She was completely displeased with him. He had this cold look about him that said he really didn’t care much. At least in relation to what was going through his mind right now. He asked her not to get her blood on the carpet. She called him an ass, only in a way that teenagers can do, and started grabbing her stuff.  


While she was getting dressed he strutted around naked, and asked her if she saw his latest video edit. She indicated that she had in fact watched it, and thought it was pretty cool. But not for his editing talents, she commented more about the person he was videoing. Some skaters stunt. As she brushed her hair back from his hustling hands, he grabbed his laptop and sat down on his bed. Plopping back with a sigh of relief on to the old flea market headboard. His fingers got to work on the keyboard.. Seriously typing away.  


She got her bra on and work the way around to see what he was typing the way at, and immediately with a shocked saying, proclaimed how in the world did you obtain video like that? He mentioned that he was on scene when the film Crews pulled up, she said that’s insane. Do you remember how we had to stay in our homes 3 years ago when these rash of murders first started happening. But now here you are on scene filming things, probably with the murderer standing next to you watching the scene, or something like that. That’s what those sickos do. She slid on her mini jean skirt.


He reached out to her once he realized that she was almost completely dressed and starting to gather the last of her items, looked up at her with a cute smirk on his face that showed off his dimple. He asked her to stay a little bit and not leave. Maybe they would watch a little TV or something. She immediately stepped away from him and the bed, and slit her shirt over her head looking at him with a little bit of pity in her eyes. She said Adam you have really pretty eyes, an incredible body, and you smell pretty good. Especially when we are enjoying ourselves. But don’t for a second think that we have anything going on between the two of us. We don’t. You do your thing, I do my thing, and when we’re bored and in the mood we meet in the middle.


Adam immediately backpedaled and said I just want to chill a little bit. Anyways I’m into somebody else. As he glanced back at the laptop. So who are you into he asked her deflecting things a little bit? She responds a little bit condescendingly, just somebody from art class you would have no idea who he is of course. Show me the little bit of his true self, he immediately replies without thinking, art?  Aren’t they like all Emo or something? He is of course indicating that he is popular.  Jamie of course I threw his little ploy.  She went back into her tirade against him that they each were independent.


Let playing be playing, she zipped up her boots with a loud sound. As she reached down towards her bag on the floor she looked at him over the edge of her glasses with a complete utter disdain stood up with a bend and snap and walk with purpose out his bedroom door. He breathed deeply, His nostrils flared and he grew upset. He whipped off the blanket and walked to the window staring out at her going down the road without a glance up at him. He leaned against his weight set to study himself, through his arm back and punch the wall hard.


The flimsy drywall cracked underneath his stiff fist. And his hand went right through leaving a softball size black and jagged hole in the beige paint. His hand dropped inside the drywall getting stuck a little bit, he breathes deeply and yanked it back out.He panted a little bit in contrast to the quietly tweeting birds of the morning sun looking down at his flaccidness and feet. It was a shame that she was able to toy with his heart so easily. He was better than that.


A rushing up the stairs as his, door propped open, and his dad walked in to see him naked standing at the window leaning on his arm looking outside and panting. Adam didn’t bother to turn around to even look. His dad is a middle aged man dressed it the traditional cubicle workforce of chinos, a sweater, and blue button down.  He’s got a bright green scarf dangling from his neck and he’s holding his laptop bag in his right arm balance going against his knee. He huffs as he grips the handle Of the cheap door in his hand. He yells out why the hell is there a hole in my house.


As he starts to close the door, he says, and Adam, Mrs. Flinkenstein called, again, and this time she used the word bully.  Promises were made to me.


Fix it, he turns around slamming the door closed with a finality. Fully meaning both things.



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