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Sunday, April 28, 2013

Boobala Darling Wins A Cruise-A Fictional Story-3

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It’s All His Fault: Harry the Villain

Harvey Finkenberg was the only surviving child of Samuel and Sarah Finkenberg. His mother had died three years earlier of a heart attack and his father died from lung cancer in the past year. Thus, Harvey inheriting a large sum of money and property in Palm Beach, Florida to which Boobala would be the heir. Between the profits from the clothing store and the newly acquired inheritance, the Finkenbergs were now financially well off.

Harry Darling was also an only child. When he was barely ten years old, his mother divorced his father. She then died in a car accident. His dad had remarried and didn’t want him to live with them, so Harry ended up with Uncle Jake, his mother’s brother. Uncle Jake was a bachelor and enjoyed spoiling his only nephew, giving him everything he wanted. Harry, a senior, attended the same high school as Boobala. He was devilishly attractive as well as vain. He was a tall, big-shouldered young man, with thick, strong-looking hands, hairy arms, curly blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He started to work out religiously in the gym, building up his muscles and developing his strength. He drew admiring glances from all the girls, hearing ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as they would pass him in the school hallways.

Harry was a charmer, sweet talking his way through anything. He just wasn’t academically inclined. He didn’t have to worry about homework, since there were plenty of girls willing to assist him in exchange for a hot date. Life was a breeze for Harry. He was the most popular guy in the whole school. The clusters of girls were always swarming about him, flirting outrageously in the hopes that he would want one of them for his steady girlfriend.

Boobala from afar would look at Harry, her cheeks flush and her heart beating fast. She was attracted to him. She lowered her head quickly as their eyes met, and began to fumble with the buttons on her sweater. She felt so embarrassed when he caught her looking at him, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

Harry interpreted her shyness as her being aloof. It injured his ego, that she was not like the other girls, falling all over themselves just for him. There was nothing about her that appealed to him, for she was homely as sin. However, there was one thing that riveted his attention, the unmistakable smell of money…

“Money, how sweet it is,” Harry would say. Even at 19 years old he knew how to appreciate the power that money had, and how one could manipulate it to his advantage. He learned that from Uncle Jake, who was a trader down on Wall Street.

The whole neighborhood knew that the Finkenberg’s were loaded, and that their homely daughter Boobala was heir to their estate. “Ooh-wee,” said Harry. It was just the amount of money that he needed to make the world his playground. Mulling over the thought, Harry said, “I better act fast before someone else beats me to it.” As to how far he would go for a shot at that money, Harry told himself: “I’d probably have to go all the way with that homely thing, though it would be a tremendously “risky move,” but then if, I play my cards right, I’ll have her eating out of my hands. Who knows, she may even agree to become my wife if that’s what it takes—ugh!” Harry shuddered as he thought about that possibility.

He decided to wait for her in the school parking lot in an inconspicuous place, away from his girlie fans. He had to be crazy to risk his reputation to be with that creature. He began pacing nervously, desperately in need of some smokes. He had just finished his last pack of Marlboro’s and there was nobody around to sponge off. While waiting to greet her, the narcissist was suddenly overtaken by a severe anxiety attack, intensifying his nausea and stomach cramps. He was starting to lose his sweet talking confidence.

As the sweat dripped from his forehead, Harry wondered if he should ditch the whole thing. “#@!!%!” he said. “I’m so freaking nervous I think I need to take a crap, I better get out of here.” Just as he decided to split, the door swung open and Boobala stepped out. Too late, there she was. Her pony tail dragged behind her limply, wearing her large black rimmed glasses and the familiar baggy, unflattering clothes. He wanted to run, but his feet were glued to the spot.

Harry, terrified, could feel his tongue go dry, wishing he had a beer as Boobala came down the stairs. The wheels began turning in his head, unsure of what to say as nerves got to him. He finally got up the courage and intercepted her with a dud of a line uttered in his best sugar-coated voice. “Hey beautiful, where have you been keeping yourself? You’re a shy one, aren’t you?”

She was totally taken by surprise. She blushed. Boobala could not believe that this hunk of God’s creation was standing before her. He was so close to her that she could smell the warm sweat on his skin. It excited her so and made her feel giddy and light-headed. She had never been this close to a male, but she liked the strange tingling sensation it gave her.

Boobala’s knees were starting to go weak as Harry gently stroked her cheek. He lingered for a moment before stroking her neck while saying: “Hey girl, you know I’ve been watching you for quite some time. From what I’ve seen, you’re okay. I like you a lot.” He paused for a second, and, without wasting any more time, tossed the bait, “I’ve been thinking about asking you to be my steady girlfriend, what do you say about that?”

Boobala became exceedingly nervous. This was the chance of a lifetime. She couldn’t pass it up, and she knew right then and there that a decision had to be made. Little did she know that the choice she would make in that moment would affect her for the worst. Boobala was just a teenager. She craved love and physical contact, and since she was always attracted to Harry, she agreed. “Yes, “she stuttered, “I want to be your steady girlfriend.”

She took the bait, hook, line and sink-her. Elated, Harry left. His “risky move” finally paid off.

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