The Clone Factor
A short story
He glanced over to the dance floor to try and catch a glimpse of her. All of his fellow students were enjoying themselves dancing. It was the Christmas formal. At last, he found her. Her head tilted back in laughter. She was dancing with Zach. His best friend. Or was he? Perhaps he only befriended Zach to be near her.
Suddenly, she caught his eye and smiled at him. His stomach turned. That smile could wipe away all his sorrows and fears. For a brief moment, he didn’t feel alone in this world.
She untied her hands from Zach’s and made her way through the crowd towards him.
“Hi there Sim, why don’t you come and join us?” she teased. Sim could tell she’d been drinking. She looked at him and he didn’t know where to look. He felt exposed.
Sim snapped out of it and returned to the present, to her eyes. His face softened and he smiled back at her. “You know I don’t dance, Nal.”
He called her Nala and she called him Simba, after their favorite movie.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. He hated it when she did that. He looked at her lips. Her lower lip was fuller than her upper lip. They reminded him of peaches. He could write poems about her lips alone. He had, actually, even though he was far from a creative person.
