Derek and his kid brother Jimmy sat opposite me at a wooden table in a park down the street from school. They, and their family, were new to the area and still getting to know folks, and somehow Derek had glommed onto me as his first friend, even though we had little in common: I was a drama-geek. He was a wrestler. And yes, the coaches had managed to get him onto the team even this late in the school year. Evidently, he was just that good.
“I can’t believe you haven’t hit that!” he said for the third time, referring to my best friend Katey.
“Dude, I told you, she’s just a friend.”
Folks around here, my other friends, had long since grown used to my friendship with Katey. But I guess back in Alabama, where Derek came from, a boy and a girl were either fucking or nothing at all.
Or so it seemed.
“She’s fucking hot!” Derek said.
Well, she was. But still…
“Man, I’d hit that,” his brother said, even though he was only eleven years old. “I’m telling you! No way I’d pass that by.”
I rolled my eyes at Jimmy and leaned back. Above me the trees rustled in the breeze. At that moment I wished, a little bit, that I was alone, not with Derek and his stupid brother. And why did they decide that I should be their friend anyhow?
Derek said, “You sure you’re not a faggot?”
I sat forward. “Oh, come on, dude!”
“’Cause, I’d hate to think my first friend here would turn out to be a faggot!”
“I’m not a faggot.”
Jimmy said, “I dunno. Only a faggot wouldn’t hit that.”
I sighed. “Fuck this shit. I’m outta here.”
But before I got up, I heard her footsteps behind me. And yes, somehow, I knew that it was her. Maybe it was the look in the two boy’s eyes.
I felt her hand on my back. Soft. Then she sat beside me, very close. Her golden hair. Her firm, athletic body. She was all smiles.
“So,” she said, glancing around at all of us, “what are we talking about?”
Derek and his brother sat there with dumb looks. Quickly, I said, “Stuff about wrestling. This is Derek. He’s the new guy on the team.”
Katey sat forward and studied Derek. “Awesome. Actually, after swim practice yesterday the coaches were talking about you.”
He glanced at me with a grin. “Oh yeah? What did they say?”
“Oh, just that you were the best wrestler to hit Meadowdale High in, like, forever. Y’know, stuff like that.”
He got an intolerably smug look when she said that.
“You’re on the swim team?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Katey’s one of our best swimmers,” I said. “And she’s captain of the girl’s soccer team too.”
“No shit.” Derek put his hands on his knees and stared right at her. “Well – do you run? I mean, just for training, cardio and stuff. I run three miles every Saturday.”
“Nice,” she said.
“Yeah. Anyway, we should hook up. Running will help in everything. Even swimming.”
He was looking at her with that big, stupid grin that guys got around her. Well, all the guys except me.
Mostly.
During this Jimmy was smiling too. He asked, “Hey, does Billy run? Or workout, or anything?”
“Yeah, Billy,” Derek said, “think you can handle a three mile run with Katey and me this Saturday?”
“If not,” Jimmy said, “I’m gonna ride my bike down to the river with Mark and Jackie. He could come with us.”
Katey reached down and squeezed my hand. “Actually, I’m going to see Billy in a play this Saturday.”
“A play?” They both said it at about the same time.
“Yeah. Billy is starring in Death of a Salesman.”
“No shit,” Derek said, “a play, huh?”
“Yeah, right. Anyhow, I gotta run.” She popped up from the bench. “See’ya later Billy. Oh, and nice to meet you Derek.”
She turned and walked away. The three of us watched her vanish into the shadows beneath the trees.
When she was gone, Derek said, “You’re in a fucking play?”
“Really!” Jimmy said. “That’s total faggot material there.”
“I’m not a faggot,” I said. But they stared at me with disbelieving looks.
After the play Katey found me backstage. I was standing around and chatting with the other players when she grabbed my arm from behind. “That was great!” she said.
“Hey! Thanks. It felt pretty good.”
Meghan and Scott were standing with me. They got quiet, just like they always did when Katey showed up.
“So,” Katey said, “what are you doing tonight? Cast party?” Before I could answer, she took my hand. “Let’s talk over here.”
She led me away from Meghan and Scott. When we got across the room, behind a pile of curtains and ropes, she said, “Like, you wanna blow off the cast party and hang with me?” She held my hand and rocked her shoulders.
“Huh? Maybe. Weren’t you supposed to go to Sheila’s thing?”
“Yeah. I was driving Jen, but I don’t really feel like it and Jen can get another ride.”
She stepped forward, very close to me.
“Well, maybe, sure. Whaddaya wanna do?”
A sly grin crossed her face. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe we could try on clothes and makeup.” She winked. “Y’know, girl stuff.”
“What the fuck?”
She shoved me lightly on the shoulder.
“What are you talking about?”
Still grinning, she said, “Well, I went running with that Derek guy this morning –”
“What! You went with him?”
“Yeah, and, anyhow, I learned about the connection between drama and homosexuality.”
I didn’t see the humor in that. Still, her smile remained.
“Anyhow,” she went on, “I wish you had told me you were gay.”
“Katey!” She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and peered up at me. “I can’t believe – You really went with him?”
“Yeah. It was fun. He really is a very good runner.”
“Did he hit on you?”
She stepped back and held out her arms. Today she was wearing low-cut jeans and a pink baby-doll tee that showed off her shape perfectly. She winked. Then she said, “Let’s say he didn’t try anything I couldn’t handle.”
I stepped aside and looked away. Then I turned back to her.
“Look, I know I’ve been hanging out with him. But really, he’s a serious asshole.”
“Heh. Well, he certainly has, shall we say, a blunt simplicity. But still” – she shrugged – “that’s rather charming in a guy.”
“Katey!”
“You always know exactly what he wants, you gotta give him that. Anyhow” – she squeezed my hand – “come over tonight. We can watch a movie or something.”
“What movie?”
“I don’t care. Whatever’s on cable. Please come.” I didn’t answer. She stepped close. “Please, please.”
“Okay.”
That night our movie choices were pretty thin. There were a couple of chick-flicks, but I put a nix on those right away. Then there was some black-and-white detective thing on that channel that shows old movies. “Let’s watch that!” I said when she scrolled past it on the channel guide.
She shrugged. “Okay.”
She selected the channel. Then she turned and lay back on the couch. “Oh, are you comfortable over there? ‘Cause there’s plenty of room over here.”
I was sitting in a big, beige, plush recliner across the room from her. “I’m fine,” I said. It was very comfortable. Plus it was where I usually sat.
“Okay. But over here you don’t have to turn you neck as much.” The commercial ended and the movie began. “I aways get neck cramps when I sit over there.”
“Shh.” On the screen the stern detective drove his rattling heap up a rocky, weathered hill to a huge mansion overlooking the valley below.
“I bet a woman lives there,” she said.
“It’s not the most feminine place.”
“No,” she said. “See, she lives alone, and the barren surroundings are a metaphor for her soul.”
The scene shifted. We saw the detective walk up marble steps and knock on the enormous wooden doors. Soon, she answered. Indeed, it was a woman, a tall, stunning brunette with full lips and mysterious eyes. She gave the detective a hostile look.
“See!” Katey said. “These things are kinda predictable.”
After trading sarcastic barbs, the brunette led the detective into the sitting room and introduced her sordid case.
“Wanna take odds that she murdered someone?” Katey asked.
“Sure. Winner buys ice cream?”
Katey watched the screen for a while. Then she sat up and faced me with a huge grin. “No! Not ice cream!” She leaned forward. “The winner” – she blinked – “gets to ask the loser to do any one thing. And the loser has to do it, no matter how embarrassing.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Anything I ask – y’know, since I’m gonna win.”
She seemed very eager.
“I’m not agreeing to that.”
“Oh! Come on!”
“Katey? What? That’s kinda weird.”
I pulled my legs up in front of me and squirmed around. She bit her bottom lip and kept grinning.
“You afraid?” she asked.
I didn’t answer.
“Oh! You don’t trust me?”
“It isn’t that – It’s just – I dunno.” I stretched out my legs and turned back to the TV. “Forget it. Let’s just watch.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw her turn and lay back on the couch.
Later in the movie, the detective was in a shabby hotel trying to get information by slapping around a soft-faced man. The man cringed and whimpered, but still, he wasn’t giving it up so easily. Suddenly, a slender blond emerged from behind the curtain. She held a revolver. On her face was a cold, deadly smile. She aimed the gun. The detective and the soft-faced man put up their hands.
I said, “So, what would you have asked me to do, if I’d lost the bet?”
She kept her eyes on the screen. “Ha! The only way you’ll find out is to take the bet and lose.”
The woman with the gun approached the detective. Quick as a cat, he grabbed her hand and disarmed her. The soft-faced man squealed and ducked behind the couch.
Katey turned to me. “Well, how’s this, what would you have asked me?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea.”
She looked at me. I glanced at her, then back to the TV.
“Fine,” she said.
On the screen the detective and the blond woman traded barbs. Then, when their anger reached a point too far, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, a long, hot kiss. She surrendered to it, relaxing her body, molding herself to him. When he released the kiss, they stared at each other with hate.
Katey stretched back on the couch. She sighed.
A while later the detective drove back up the hill to the desolate house. Katey said, “School’s almost over.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll be going to my aunt’s in Vermont. And, like, after that I’ll only be back for a week before I’m off to Columbus.”
I knew these things. We had both applied to a lot of colleges. I’d been accepted to W&M. She, on the other hand, had taken a really sweet title 9 scholarship to OSU. She could have done better, I thought, but with her dad out of work, she decided to take the deal and stay close to home.
She said, “We’re not going to see each other much. I mean –” She turned to me.
“Yeah, I know. It’ll be fine. We’ll stay in touch.”
“Will we?”
I didn’t say anything. She lay back on the couch. The movie plodded on.
Later, back in the mansion, the detective confronted the brunette with the evidence of her guilt. She pleaded and cajoled. She threw herself at him. But his body remained stiff. With strong hands he pushed her away. Then he left. We watched his shabby car descend the barren hill. In the distance we saw police cars approach with flashing lights. The final scene: she looked out the window with wide, inscrutable eyes. The camera panned in. The hints of a tear.
Roll credits.
“Well, that’s a movie,” Katey said.
“Yup.”
“Taking off?”
“I think so.”
I began to get up. She sat up and faced me.
“What’cha doing tomorrow?” she asked.
“Helping my dad.”
“Oh. Okay.” She slumped back down into the couch. “Well, see’ya Monday then.”
“Yeah.”
She flipped through channels as I walked to the door.
Tuesday evening, with the sun creeping near to the edge of the sky, I drove my car along Route 35 toward West Alexandria. Next to me Katey sat doing her nails. She complained each time the car hit a bump in the road.
“Warn me!” she said. “Please.”
“Sorry.”
Around us the tall fields of alfalfa began to give way to feed shops, cemeteries, and tractor lots. We crossed a small bridge over a narrow river. Then ahead, the buildings of the town came into view.
“It’s a right on Main Street,” she said, “then left on Third.”
“I remember how to get there.”
“Cool.”
She finished her nails and put the little bottle of polish back into her purse. Then she turned to me and asked, “How do I look?”
Tonight she was wearing a little denim skirt and a fitted slate gray blouse that barely reached to her waist. The colors didn’t quite work, I thought – Katey had never been good with colors. But I wouldn’t tell her that. For her, the clothes hardly mattered. Her thighs were lightly tanned with a few freckles on her golden skin. Up top, a few buttons of her blouse were undone, just enough so that, if you leaned and peered, you could see that she wore a rose colored bra. Her hair was soft, lustrous, and tied back into a ponytail. Her freshly painted nails were red and lovely. While she waited for me to answer, she held her hands up and blew on them.
“You look fine,” I said.
She gave me a dim look. “Just fine?”
I grinned, held the wheel, and looked ahead. “Okay. How ’bout damn fine!”
She smiled. “That’s better.”
I turned the car onto Main Street.
She squirmed in her seat and adjusted her purse on her lap. “I hope a lot of people are there.”
“I hope that Derek isn’t there.”
She shrugged. “He probably will be. It’s gonna be a jock-o-rama tonight. And he’s the new jock star.”
Normally, I wouldn’t go with Katey to one of these things. But there were so few parties left, she said. And she had gone to my play, she reminded me. Then she begged and begged until I gave in.
I was giving up Shakespeare night at Amy Winter’s. As I turned onto Third Street, Katey placed her hand on mine.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “if Derek gives you any shit, I’ll just tell him we’re dating now.”
She squeezed my hand.
“Uh – okay.”
I pulled to the side of the street and parked in line with a dozen other cars.
Then, after I shut off the engine, and as I removed the keys, she said, “Wanna kiss? Like, since I’m pretending to be your girlfriend?”
“Katey! What?”
She pointed across the street. On a little brick wall between the sidewalk and a wood-framed house, Derek sat with two other wrestlers. They were laughing and drinking. When they saw us, Derek set down his beer and watched us.
“You have two choices,” she said, “kiss me, or get called faggot all night.”
She smiled at me. Then she brought her face close to mine.
A few loose strands of her hair glimmered in the setting sun.
“We don’t have to really kiss,” I said. “From there, he can’t tell. I can just put my hand like this –”
One of the skills you learn in drama is how to fake-kiss.
She blinked her eyes. “Don’t be silly.” Then, she put her arms around my neck and pulled me to her. Our lips met.
It was a long kiss, her arms around me, her eyes clamped shut. She parted her lips – only slightly.
After the kiss she said, “You should put your arms around me. It’ll look more convincing.”
I put my arms around her. She snuggled close.
“It was kinda nice, don’t’cha think?” she said. “Y’know, kissing.”
“Uh –”
She brought her lips to mine again. Another long kiss. And yes, it was quite nice. This time, when we broke the kiss, she looked at me with deep eyes.
“Uh – Katey – is something going on? I mean, not that this isn’t nice, but you’ve been acting kinda weird.”
We separated and she slid back in her seat, partly against the door. Facing me, she pulled her legs up, curled forward, and rested her chin on her knees.
She looked at me.
“So,” she said, “like, we have such little time left. Don’t you wanna – y’know – do something real special with the time we have left?”
The sun had crept lower and made her eyes seem to glint. She closed them. Then she opened them again.
“Katey, this isn’t final. I mean, sure, we’ll be far for a few years, but we’ll stay in touch. Like, on Facebook and stuff.”
Slowly, sadness crossed her face. She slid her legs down and faced forward. She leaned against the passenger window. Then she said, “Tell me the truth, are you gay?”
“No!” I said. “Of course not.”
She turned back to me. Then she looked down at herself, at her own body. She motioned to her legs, then up past her hips, and then over her waist, up to her breasts.
“Seriously!” she said. “You’re saying no to me?”
“Katey, you’re beautiful. Very beautiful. And, yes, I see it. And, no, I’m not gay. But –”
“Stop right there!” She lurched forward and put her fingers on my mouth. “Don’t you dare say it! If you say – that thing.” She took a deep breath. “If you say that you’re afraid that we’ll ruin our friendship –” She paused. “Well – I’ll get out of this car right now and never speak to you again!”
Her eyes were wide. She looked right at me.
Time passed and we sat. My mouth hung slack. I felt bewildered.
Then she said, “Kiss me, you idiot!”
Suddenly, there was a pounding on the driver’s side window behind me.
“Faggot!”
Her eyes dropped. “Oh shit,” she said.
I turned and saw Derek’s stupid, ugly face peering through the window. Behind him dusk had settled on the town. The other wrestlers loomed in the shadows.
“He won’t even kiss Katey!” Derek shouted. “And she was fucking begging him!”
Katey looked at me with sad eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
Derek pounded on the window more. “Get outta the car, faggot!” He kicked the door. Thud!
“Just drive,” Katey said. “Screw the party. Let’s get outta here.”
I started the car, and while Derek pounded on the windows, the roof, the trunk – and then as he ran behind me for half a block shouting – I tore down the street away from the party.
“Faggot!”
We drove back toward town with the last hints of the sunset fading behind us. Beside me, Katey looked out the window quietly.
I glanced at her, then at the road, and then back at her. “Look,” I said, “I mean, sorry.”
She remained still, watching the dark stretch of the empty night drift past.
“No, I’m sorry,” she said. “Obviously, what I want isn’t what you want.”
I reached to her shoulder. With the tips of my fingers, I caressed down her arm toward her hand. The fabric of her blouse felt stiff. Then, when I reached her hand, I touched her fingers lightly. Our fingers intertwined.
She looked toward me. “Watch the road!”
A truck was coming the other way, and I had drifted a bit, not too much, not over the line. But still, I centered the car in our lane.
She slid over next to me and leaned into me.
“Are your parents home?” I asked.
“No. Well, I don’t think so. They were going to some fundraiser for the school.”
“Wanna go to your house?”
She turned to me and bit her lip. Then she reached up and stroked my hair.
“Yeah,” she said. “I mean, if you want.”
“Yeah. I do. Let’s.”
I drove to her house. Soon, we were standing nervously in her room, near, but not touching.
She motioned to her bed. “Uh – do you wanna sit, or something?”
“Sure.”
We sat on the bed. I leaned and removed my shoes. She did the same. Then we got up onto the bed, shifted onto our knees, and faced each other.
“You wanna just kiss?” she asked. “To start, or, well, whatever.”
“Sure.”
She came forward and kissed me, softly, slowly. My body remained still. Only my lips moved.
She sat back and touched my face. But we didn’t say anything.
Another kiss, short and sweet. Then another. Then another. The next one lingered. She reached around me, one hand behind my neck, the other grasping my upper back, and pulled me to her. She pressed her body to mine. Then, she put her tongue into my mouth, probing, touching. I returned the favor.
This kiss went on and on. And slowly, so slowly, I began to feel a thrill. Then, a swelling.
We both raised up onto our knees and pressed our bodies closer. I put one hand on her lower back. I placed the other on her bottom. Not too much. I did not yet raise her skirt. But I pulled that part of her against that part of me.
Her eyes got wide and she broke the kiss. She looked down, and, yes, certain things were obvious.
A pleased looked crossed her face. She glanced up at me, then down, then up again.
“So, I guess you aren’t gay.”
“No. But – well – it’s always been slower for me. I don’t know why.”
“Hmm.” She stroked my arm and looked into my eyes with a distant smile on her face.
“I don’t mind if things are slow,” she said. “I’m in no hurry at all tonight.”
We kissed deeply. Her breasts were so soft against my chest.
“Wanna take off my blouse?” she asked.
I nodded. Next I undid the buttons, slowly, one by one. When they were all undone, she squirmed and rocked her shoulders while I slipped the blouse off of her.
Her little rose bra was so darling, strapless with a lacy fringe and delicate lavender embroidery.
She grinned. “Can he remove a bra?”
It was the sort that clipped up front. And, indeed, I could remove a bra.
Her breasts were round, firm, and flawless. Her nipples, small and pink. They were just pointy enough to make me quiver.
She held her arms behind her back and thrust out her chest. “Go ahead,” she said. “Touch them. Kiss them.”
I touched and kissed them. When I did, she moaned deeply. My eyes clamped shut. I pulled a nipple into my mouth, sucking. Then the other. Back and forth.
“Oh, fuck!” she said. “That feels so good.”
She smelled nice.
Then another long kiss. After that, she pulled off my shirt franticly. She kissed me up and down. Then, we kissed again, bodies pressed, hips pressed. We began to grind together, our hands on the other’s ass, pressing.
“Fuck, fuck,” she said while she quivered and moaned.
My eyes were clamped shut, and I too was moaning.
Then, I pulled up her skirt and squeezed her ass. She pressed forward, and I fell back, pulling her on top of me. She straddled me, her skirt up, her pussy against my cock.
But I was still in jeans, her panties were still on.
She ground her hips like that for a while. We both moaned and squirmed. And, indeed, she could have finished me that way, if she had continued.
But she slid down, glanced up, and peered into my eyes, deeply. Then, still looking at me, with a soft, eager grin, she began to undo my fly.
I leaned forward and touched her face.
Soon, my jeans came down, my drawers came down, my cock stood upright.
She gave it a pleasant smile, my cock. Then she took it into her mouth.
I lay for a while, staring up, just feeling it. Then I looked down at her beautiful face, her eyes gazing up at me, her lips puckered around my shaft. Her head went up and down, up and down. I touched her hair.
It felt amazing. Soon it got to be so much that I groaned and lay back again. My eyes clamped shut. “Oh, fuck, Katey!” I said.
She stopped sucking. “Are you close?”
I caught my breath. “Yeah.” I lay and felt my cock throbbing. “Yeah, I’m really close.”
She slid up and lay beside me. “Alright. Let’s have you rest then. I do intend to get fucked.” She put her arms around me and we kissed. “Say,” she said, “since I went down on you…” She smiled, licked her lips, and then motioned down.
We moved around. She ended up laying back with her legs hanging over the edge of the bed. I ended up on the floor. Her skirt was pulled up around her tummy. Her panties were lovely, light blue, and cottony. When she parted her legs, there was a small circle of wetness in the very center of everything.
Slowly, I reached and touched the wet place. She cooed.
How amazing it was! That I could do that to her. This living, breathing girl. This little miracle, squirming, panting, and moaning. My best friend. So eager to be pleased. By the merest touch. By me. By my mouth.
I kissed the wet spot. She whimpered and moaned.
I removed her panties. When they reached her ankles, she helped kick them away. Again her legs parted.
Pink. Delicate. A halo of soft, brown hair. With my fingers, I opened her. With my mouth, I ate.
Soon she was very, very wet, from my kisses, my spit, and from her clear, thick fluids. I drew it all into my mouth and took it down. I ate more. I licked up her crease to her clit. I kissed that. And sucked. I put my fingers in, they slid in easily.
“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck,” she said as I fucked her with my fingers.
She panted. “Fuck me now,” she said. “No, with your dick. Wait, get my purse. I have a condom.”
She helped me put the condom on. Then she said, “Lie back.”
“No,” I said, “I wanna be on top.”
She smiled at me, like she was impressed or something. “Okay. Cool.”
She lay back. I got on top. Then, desperately squirming, she shifted her hips until my cock lined up with her hole. I slid it in.
I wanted to ride her slow. I liked things that way. Slow and soft, like floating on a gentle sea.
She wanted a fucking hurricane. She wrapped her legs around my waist, grabbed my shoulders – nails digging in – and said, “Fuck me! Fuck me hard!”
If there is one thing every actor knows, it’s how to perform on stage. I fucked her hard. When she came, she screamed and thrashed. Soon, I came too.
Much later, we lay together in bed, me on my back, her curled against me. One of her hands was wrapped around my semi-erect cock.
“Think I can get him up for one more?” she asked.
I wasn’t sure. After I’d fucked her the first time, she’d put me on my back and taken it into her mouth, licking and sucking – gently, because I begged her – until it grew hard again. Then, another fucking, her on top. Then again, me standing behind, her leaning over the bed.
But now, I thought, maybe I was done.
“I dunno, sweetie,” I said.
“I’m gonna try.”
She played for a while, stroking, a few kisses on its tender head, until I said, “Really, I think that’s it for tonight.”
“Aw!” She gazed up at me with a smile. “Okay.”
We kissed.
“That was really nice,” she said.
“Uh – yeah. It was pretty great.”
Outside, it had begun to rain – I guessed sometime during the last fucking, although I didn’t really notice until just then.
“My folks will be home soon,” she said. “So, you’d better go.”
“Okay.”
Again we kissed.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.
“Yeah. Oh, and my folks are out again on Friday. Wanna come over and play?”
“Definitely.”
“Cool.”
I got dressed while she lay and watched me. Then, after a final kiss, and as I passed through the door, she said, “Billy.”
I turned back. “Yeah?”
She rolled on her back and looked up. “I think we will stay in touch, somehow. But still, y’know, it’s a long time.”
She pulled her pillow to her chest and clutched it. She turned and watched me.
“I know.”
“I’m glad we have this memory. So, whatever happens, we have this.”
Her eyes were soft. Outside, I jogged to my car through the gentle rain. By the time I got home, it had lessened to a faint mist that clung to me as I climbed the steps to my front door.