Frosted Brown Eyes - by Bootstrapper
Disclaimer: 'Daria' belongs to MTV. I do this for fun, not money.
All three pretty girls had undone their bikini tops by now and were stretched out on their towels, soaking up the sun. Certainly, they were aware that most of the males within a hundred-foot radius were watching, hoping for a glimpse of something if one forgot about her top and sat up, or rolled over.
One watcher was paying particular attention. Not that the girls could tell. In the deep shade of a beach umbrella, he reclined on a banana lounge, apparently asleep behind his sunglasses. He'd picked his spot well, he thought. Shade from the afternoon sun and the perfect view of all the spots the ladies would lay out their towels. His mind wandered to fantasies of rubbing sunscreen into the bikini-girls. Perhaps, in a while, he'd go and offer them a Cola.
A girl made her way slowly to the edge of the pool. Without turning his head, he assessed her. About his age, seventeen, he guessed. Not tall, five- two or three. One-ten pounds, one-fifteen perhaps. Brown hair, shoulder length. One-piece swimsuit, green, blue and white, medium-cut thighs, not too high to be slutty, not too low to be dorky. Pale skin. Probably doesn't get out much. Nice legs, wide hips, narrow waist. Small breasts but rounded, not the pointy 'bee-stings' so many girls have. 'Hmm, she has potential . . .' he thought. 'Uh-oh! White cane! No wonder she moves so carefully.' He dismissed her as she stopped at the edge of the pool. Disabled girls didn't rate. He went back to ogling the bikini-girls.
Splash! A couple of guys were walking away from the spot where the blind girl had been standing moments before. She was now in the pool, floundering.
"S**t!" He threw off his sunglasses and dove in. His dive took him all the way to the girl. He could see her dimly through the water. He came up beside her and one of her flailing arms caught him. She clung on, almost forcing them both under. He was stronger. He broke her grip, got behind her and put his arm around her neck.
"I've got you! I've got you!! Stop struggling. Take a deep breath. I'll keep your head above water."
The girl stopped struggling and relaxed. He was surprised. This girl had real self control. Half a dozen strokes had them into water shallow enough to stand. He let her go and offered his hand instead. "Here. I'll help you out." He said, guiding the girl to the steps. Incredibly, she still had that white cane clutched in her hand.
"Are you OK?"
"Yes, thank you." She answered, a little unsteadily. The girl sounded older than she looked.
The lifeguard had seen the whole incident and had intercepted the two boys. He marched them over.
"Excuse me miss? Were you pushed?"
"Yes."
"By these two?"
In answer, the girl held up her white cane. The lifeguard frowned at the guys. "What's the matter with you? Picking on a disabled person?!"
For their part, the guys looked shocked. "Jeez!" said one. "We didn't know she was blind."
The lifeguards frown deepened. "I think I should ask you two to leave."
"Aw, Man! No!!" The boy appealed to the girl. "We didn't mean anything. We were just funnin' around.. Please?" He whined.
The lifeguard turned to the girl. "Miss?"
The girl stood impassively for a moment. "Just stay away from me."
The lifeguard fixed the guys with a withering stare. "All right. You can stay. But any more horseplay and you two are out. Now git!"
They got.
He had used the diversion to fade back to his banana lounge and had resumed observing the bikini-babes when a voice interrupted his somewhat licentious train of thought.
"Excuse me?"
"Gah!" He jumped. The blind girl stood a couple of feet away.
"I didn't get a chance to thank you, for pulling be out of the pool."
"Uh. That's OK." He could see people were watching him and the girl. Someone pointed, someone else made a comment. Several laughed. The girl stood, waiting for . . . what?
"Er. You're welcome?"
The girl turned her head slightly, giving he the impression she was listening, intently. "I'm sorry." She said, suddenly. "I didn't realise I was embarrassing you in front of your friends." She turned on her heel and walked off.
He sat, dumbfounded. Another peal of derisive laughter carried to him from the group nearby. He distinctly heard 'Loser!'. He set his jaw. "B******s!" he muttered, and went after the girl.
"Please stop." He said to the blind girls retreating back.
"Go away." Her voice held no emotion. She kept walking.
He kept pace and thought, quickly. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to sound rude. I. I was surprised. And pleased. I er, didn't exactly know what to say. Sorry."
The girl stopped. "And your friends?"
"They're not my friends."
The girl seemed to look right at him.
"You see, its . . . It's just that . . ." he stammered. "I . . . You Know when . . ."
"Let me fill in the blanks for you. Able-bodied people prefer to ignore people with disabilities, like me. You pretend we aren't there because we make you feel awkward and embarrassed. Is that what you're trying to say?"
He nodded, then slapped himself mentally when he realised she couldn't see him. "Uh, yes. I'm sorry. I was being a complete cad." He looked back at the still smirking crowd. To Hell with them! "Um, could I make it up to you, please? I've got a spare banana lounge under the umbrella, and a pitcher of iced Cola."
The girl seemed to stare right through him. All the blind people he'd encountered had had something odd about their eyes. But not this girl. Her brown eyes looked quite normal, except for some indefinable unfocussed quality. He was beginning to think she would refuse . . .
"OK."
He conducted the girl back to his umbrella and they settled on the banana lounges.
"Well, go ahead. Say something. " The girl broke the awkward silence.
"Um. Did you know you were so close to the pool?"
"Yes."
"Weren't you afraid you'd fall in?"
"I can swim. I was trying to find the shallow end."
"Then why . . .?"
"I didn't say I was a good swimmer."
"Oh. Um, what school do you go to?"
"Lawndale High."
"So do I." He tried to think of something clever to say. Something that wouldn't sound smarmy. "I haven't seen you around."
"Neither have I!" She smirked. And after a pause, "I'm in the Special Ed section."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Spec Ed caters for my needs better than regular classes could . . . except for one thing."
"And, that is?"
"Intelligent conversation."
He nodded. He'd seen some of the students in SpecEd. "So, what *do* you do for stimulation . . . !!" 'DAMN!' he thought as he cringed, internally. He'd done it now. 'When will I learn to THINK before I speak?!' He slapped himself, mentally.
The girl smirked. "I hope you meant *mental* stimulation?"
"Yes! YES!"
"I read, mostly."
"Huh?! How? You're blind." He forgot his embarrassment. "Wait a second. You use Braille?"
"Only some of my books are in Braille. The rest of them are the regular variety. I've got this nifty scanner. You run it down the page and the thing reads the words to you, out loud."
"Optical character recognition! How do you take notes? A micro-cassette?"
"That and I touch type. My computer speaks the letters as I type them. I can write to, with a pen and paper."
He was impressed. "No way!"
"Way!" The girl looked directly at him. "I'm legally blind so I can't drive or anything like that, but I can tell light from dark. I was born with acute astigmatism. I could see reasonably well when I was little. I had glasses then, but my eyesight got worse as I got older. I can see you as if I was looking through frosted-glass. I can tell you have red hair and that you're skinny. If I get closer, I can make out more details."
"The white cane?"
"Handy, for whacking imbeciles. I wanted one with a sword inside, but the 'rents won't let me. Damn concealed weapon regs." She smirked.
"Wow! You seem so . . . well adjusted" He didn't know what else to say. "I don't know if I could cope if I were blind."
"You don't need twenty-twenty vision to see the world clearly." She got a far away look. "I see things most other people can't . . . or won't."
"You're not talking about your eyesight any more, are you?" . . .
The girl started to reply as two girls walked past. "Watch out for him, girl. He's got a reputation." One of them called out, to the blind girl. "Unless you like that sort of thing." Added the other. They giggled and walked off.
"What was that about?"
"I, Um . . ." 'Oh, damn it!' he thought. 'Why does this happen to me? The first girl who's actually talked to me in God knows how long and this has to happen!' He sighed and looked sadly at the girl. "Yeah, I have a rep." He said, quietly.
"And what is this reputation?"
He thought about lying, but he knew it was pointless. The girl would find out the truth, eventually. There was no point hiding it. 'I guess this is for the best.' he thought, bitterly. "Um. The uh, girls. They uh, think I'm not, um, . . . nice."
"Do you go around grabbing their asses?"
"No! I wouldn't dare!! Well, just once. I just ask them out, a lot, especially the feisty ones. I tell them they're lovely . . ." 'No point holding back.' He hung his head, in shame. "I imply I'm good in bed. They, uh. They think I'm a sleaze." He waited for what he knew would happen next. There'd be an icy silence as the girl digested this information, followed by a cold goodbye and she'd leave. He wondered idly why he'd bared his soul to this stranger, and why there was a cold lump in his stomach.
"I see."
'That's it. She's leaving. Crummy, crummy, crummy world.' His gut twisted itself into a painful knot. The pool didn't seem like such a good place to hang out, any more. He decided he'd go home, once the girl had left. "Well, um. 'Bye. Thanks for the conversation . . ."
"Why? Are you going somewhere?"
"Huh?! Aren't you . . .?"
"What?"
He pointed with both hands. "But they . . . I . . ."
"I make up my own mind about people, thank you. Were you going to hit on me?"
"No!"
"Why not? Aren't I attractive enough? Or were you just being 'kind to the blind girl' again?"
"No! NO!! It's not that." He waved vaguely at the crowd "They can take care of themselves. You're . . . "
Those brown eyes bored into him. "What?! Delicate? Fragile? Defenceless?!" She bristled. "I know how to fight, buster! Up close and dirty if the need arises. You think I'm sensitive? Stupid people have hurt my feelings more times than you've had hot dinners. You grow calluses, and callous, eventually . . ."
"I was going to say interesting." He interrupted. "You're obviously smart and self assured." He scratched around desperately for a good close. "And. And. I . . . I . . . Justdon'twanttomessthingsupwithyou!". He held his breath.
The girl registered surprise, for a moment. "Oh. Well, you haven't . . . yet. She hooked a thumb at the group nearby. I heard them call you a loser, but it was you that jumped in the pool after me. A loser would have tried for a feel when he rescued me." She smiled.
"Then, you don't care about . . . "
"No. I'm happy to socialise with you. Until you do something to ruin things." She smirked.
He had never known such a sense of relief. 'If I never do anything right again, please God, don't let me do anything stupid with her.' He offered up.
"Thank you." He said, sincerely. "Um, I don't think I've introduced myself." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Charles Ruttheimer."
The girl reached out slowly and grasped his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Charles. My name is Daria Morgendorffer."
*******
This story was originally posted under the working title, "By The Pool" at PPMB. Thanks to my beta reader, Deref and to all the nice folks at PPMB for their comments and suggestions.
Disclaimer: 'Daria' belongs to MTV. I do this for fun, not money.
All three pretty girls had undone their bikini tops by now and were stretched out on their towels, soaking up the sun. Certainly, they were aware that most of the males within a hundred-foot radius were watching, hoping for a glimpse of something if one forgot about her top and sat up, or rolled over.
One watcher was paying particular attention. Not that the girls could tell. In the deep shade of a beach umbrella, he reclined on a banana lounge, apparently asleep behind his sunglasses. He'd picked his spot well, he thought. Shade from the afternoon sun and the perfect view of all the spots the ladies would lay out their towels. His mind wandered to fantasies of rubbing sunscreen into the bikini-girls. Perhaps, in a while, he'd go and offer them a Cola.
A girl made her way slowly to the edge of the pool. Without turning his head, he assessed her. About his age, seventeen, he guessed. Not tall, five- two or three. One-ten pounds, one-fifteen perhaps. Brown hair, shoulder length. One-piece swimsuit, green, blue and white, medium-cut thighs, not too high to be slutty, not too low to be dorky. Pale skin. Probably doesn't get out much. Nice legs, wide hips, narrow waist. Small breasts but rounded, not the pointy 'bee-stings' so many girls have. 'Hmm, she has potential . . .' he thought. 'Uh-oh! White cane! No wonder she moves so carefully.' He dismissed her as she stopped at the edge of the pool. Disabled girls didn't rate. He went back to ogling the bikini-girls.
Splash! A couple of guys were walking away from the spot where the blind girl had been standing moments before. She was now in the pool, floundering.
"S**t!" He threw off his sunglasses and dove in. His dive took him all the way to the girl. He could see her dimly through the water. He came up beside her and one of her flailing arms caught him. She clung on, almost forcing them both under. He was stronger. He broke her grip, got behind her and put his arm around her neck.
"I've got you! I've got you!! Stop struggling. Take a deep breath. I'll keep your head above water."
The girl stopped struggling and relaxed. He was surprised. This girl had real self control. Half a dozen strokes had them into water shallow enough to stand. He let her go and offered his hand instead. "Here. I'll help you out." He said, guiding the girl to the steps. Incredibly, she still had that white cane clutched in her hand.
"Are you OK?"
"Yes, thank you." She answered, a little unsteadily. The girl sounded older than she looked.
The lifeguard had seen the whole incident and had intercepted the two boys. He marched them over.
"Excuse me miss? Were you pushed?"
"Yes."
"By these two?"
In answer, the girl held up her white cane. The lifeguard frowned at the guys. "What's the matter with you? Picking on a disabled person?!"
For their part, the guys looked shocked. "Jeez!" said one. "We didn't know she was blind."
The lifeguards frown deepened. "I think I should ask you two to leave."
"Aw, Man! No!!" The boy appealed to the girl. "We didn't mean anything. We were just funnin' around.. Please?" He whined.
The lifeguard turned to the girl. "Miss?"
The girl stood impassively for a moment. "Just stay away from me."
The lifeguard fixed the guys with a withering stare. "All right. You can stay. But any more horseplay and you two are out. Now git!"
They got.
He had used the diversion to fade back to his banana lounge and had resumed observing the bikini-babes when a voice interrupted his somewhat licentious train of thought.
"Excuse me?"
"Gah!" He jumped. The blind girl stood a couple of feet away.
"I didn't get a chance to thank you, for pulling be out of the pool."
"Uh. That's OK." He could see people were watching him and the girl. Someone pointed, someone else made a comment. Several laughed. The girl stood, waiting for . . . what?
"Er. You're welcome?"
The girl turned her head slightly, giving he the impression she was listening, intently. "I'm sorry." She said, suddenly. "I didn't realise I was embarrassing you in front of your friends." She turned on her heel and walked off.
He sat, dumbfounded. Another peal of derisive laughter carried to him from the group nearby. He distinctly heard 'Loser!'. He set his jaw. "B******s!" he muttered, and went after the girl.
"Please stop." He said to the blind girls retreating back.
"Go away." Her voice held no emotion. She kept walking.
He kept pace and thought, quickly. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to sound rude. I. I was surprised. And pleased. I er, didn't exactly know what to say. Sorry."
The girl stopped. "And your friends?"
"They're not my friends."
The girl seemed to look right at him.
"You see, its . . . It's just that . . ." he stammered. "I . . . You Know when . . ."
"Let me fill in the blanks for you. Able-bodied people prefer to ignore people with disabilities, like me. You pretend we aren't there because we make you feel awkward and embarrassed. Is that what you're trying to say?"
He nodded, then slapped himself mentally when he realised she couldn't see him. "Uh, yes. I'm sorry. I was being a complete cad." He looked back at the still smirking crowd. To Hell with them! "Um, could I make it up to you, please? I've got a spare banana lounge under the umbrella, and a pitcher of iced Cola."
The girl seemed to stare right through him. All the blind people he'd encountered had had something odd about their eyes. But not this girl. Her brown eyes looked quite normal, except for some indefinable unfocussed quality. He was beginning to think she would refuse . . .
"OK."
He conducted the girl back to his umbrella and they settled on the banana lounges.
"Well, go ahead. Say something. " The girl broke the awkward silence.
"Um. Did you know you were so close to the pool?"
"Yes."
"Weren't you afraid you'd fall in?"
"I can swim. I was trying to find the shallow end."
"Then why . . .?"
"I didn't say I was a good swimmer."
"Oh. Um, what school do you go to?"
"Lawndale High."
"So do I." He tried to think of something clever to say. Something that wouldn't sound smarmy. "I haven't seen you around."
"Neither have I!" She smirked. And after a pause, "I'm in the Special Ed section."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Spec Ed caters for my needs better than regular classes could . . . except for one thing."
"And, that is?"
"Intelligent conversation."
He nodded. He'd seen some of the students in SpecEd. "So, what *do* you do for stimulation . . . !!" 'DAMN!' he thought as he cringed, internally. He'd done it now. 'When will I learn to THINK before I speak?!' He slapped himself, mentally.
The girl smirked. "I hope you meant *mental* stimulation?"
"Yes! YES!"
"I read, mostly."
"Huh?! How? You're blind." He forgot his embarrassment. "Wait a second. You use Braille?"
"Only some of my books are in Braille. The rest of them are the regular variety. I've got this nifty scanner. You run it down the page and the thing reads the words to you, out loud."
"Optical character recognition! How do you take notes? A micro-cassette?"
"That and I touch type. My computer speaks the letters as I type them. I can write to, with a pen and paper."
He was impressed. "No way!"
"Way!" The girl looked directly at him. "I'm legally blind so I can't drive or anything like that, but I can tell light from dark. I was born with acute astigmatism. I could see reasonably well when I was little. I had glasses then, but my eyesight got worse as I got older. I can see you as if I was looking through frosted-glass. I can tell you have red hair and that you're skinny. If I get closer, I can make out more details."
"The white cane?"
"Handy, for whacking imbeciles. I wanted one with a sword inside, but the 'rents won't let me. Damn concealed weapon regs." She smirked.
"Wow! You seem so . . . well adjusted" He didn't know what else to say. "I don't know if I could cope if I were blind."
"You don't need twenty-twenty vision to see the world clearly." She got a far away look. "I see things most other people can't . . . or won't."
"You're not talking about your eyesight any more, are you?" . . .
The girl started to reply as two girls walked past. "Watch out for him, girl. He's got a reputation." One of them called out, to the blind girl. "Unless you like that sort of thing." Added the other. They giggled and walked off.
"What was that about?"
"I, Um . . ." 'Oh, damn it!' he thought. 'Why does this happen to me? The first girl who's actually talked to me in God knows how long and this has to happen!' He sighed and looked sadly at the girl. "Yeah, I have a rep." He said, quietly.
"And what is this reputation?"
He thought about lying, but he knew it was pointless. The girl would find out the truth, eventually. There was no point hiding it. 'I guess this is for the best.' he thought, bitterly. "Um. The uh, girls. They uh, think I'm not, um, . . . nice."
"Do you go around grabbing their asses?"
"No! I wouldn't dare!! Well, just once. I just ask them out, a lot, especially the feisty ones. I tell them they're lovely . . ." 'No point holding back.' He hung his head, in shame. "I imply I'm good in bed. They, uh. They think I'm a sleaze." He waited for what he knew would happen next. There'd be an icy silence as the girl digested this information, followed by a cold goodbye and she'd leave. He wondered idly why he'd bared his soul to this stranger, and why there was a cold lump in his stomach.
"I see."
'That's it. She's leaving. Crummy, crummy, crummy world.' His gut twisted itself into a painful knot. The pool didn't seem like such a good place to hang out, any more. He decided he'd go home, once the girl had left. "Well, um. 'Bye. Thanks for the conversation . . ."
"Why? Are you going somewhere?"
"Huh?! Aren't you . . .?"
"What?"
He pointed with both hands. "But they . . . I . . ."
"I make up my own mind about people, thank you. Were you going to hit on me?"
"No!"
"Why not? Aren't I attractive enough? Or were you just being 'kind to the blind girl' again?"
"No! NO!! It's not that." He waved vaguely at the crowd "They can take care of themselves. You're . . . "
Those brown eyes bored into him. "What?! Delicate? Fragile? Defenceless?!" She bristled. "I know how to fight, buster! Up close and dirty if the need arises. You think I'm sensitive? Stupid people have hurt my feelings more times than you've had hot dinners. You grow calluses, and callous, eventually . . ."
"I was going to say interesting." He interrupted. "You're obviously smart and self assured." He scratched around desperately for a good close. "And. And. I . . . I . . . Justdon'twanttomessthingsupwithyou!". He held his breath.
The girl registered surprise, for a moment. "Oh. Well, you haven't . . . yet. She hooked a thumb at the group nearby. I heard them call you a loser, but it was you that jumped in the pool after me. A loser would have tried for a feel when he rescued me." She smiled.
"Then, you don't care about . . . "
"No. I'm happy to socialise with you. Until you do something to ruin things." She smirked.
He had never known such a sense of relief. 'If I never do anything right again, please God, don't let me do anything stupid with her.' He offered up.
"Thank you." He said, sincerely. "Um, I don't think I've introduced myself." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Charles Ruttheimer."
The girl reached out slowly and grasped his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Charles. My name is Daria Morgendorffer."
*******
This story was originally posted under the working title, "By The Pool" at PPMB. Thanks to my beta reader, Deref and to all the nice folks at PPMB for their comments and suggestions.
