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Subject: {ASSM} Sam and Eric - Graduation Part 1 (MF, Rom, No sex)
Date: Fri, 28 Jan 2000 05:10:02 -0500
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This work of fiction is for the entertainment of adults in locations
where it is legal.  If it is illegal in your location, don't read it!
This work is copyrighted.  Reposting or any other use is strictly
prohibited without the express, written permission of the copyright
holder.  E-mail me, I'll probably give you permission.  I just want to
know and control where it is posted.  This story may be posted as part
of a review or to free-access, non-commercial archive sites.

My thanks to Ruthie for her proofreading and suggestions.  Any errors
you find are my fault not hers.

Tell me what you liked, or didn't like.  Please!

E-mail address:  tradesjackofall@hotmail.com

My stories can be found at:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Jack_of_all_Trades/

Copyright 2000 by Jack of all Trades




Graduation

Part One

Friend

The first time I met Sam I was lost, standing in the middle of the
quadrangle at Midstate University while I tried to figure out which
building housed my first class. Sam moved with such grace that she
appeared to be almost floating. Her long brown hair trailed behind
her, the slight breeze occasionally catching it and splaying it about
her. Her smile conveyed a sense of amusement at everything that
touched her world.

Sam slowed as she neared me, and her expression shifted from amusement
to caring. Her green eyes held mine from the moment I caught sight of
them. They captured my soul, as I stood there captivated like a deer
caught in headlights. She stopped next to me, her eyes studying me and
sparkling with mirth.

"Hi!" she said. Her smile was sweet and full of compassion. It took me
a moment to realize she had spoken to me.

"He-hello," I stammered back.

"You're lost, aren't you?" she asked with a chuckle.

I looked downward in shame. I could feel myself blushing. "I guess I
am," I said.

"It's OK, everyone gets lost around here at least once their freshman
year."

I looked back up at her. She was holding out her hand.

"Samantha Canfield," she said, "but my friends call me Sam."

I took her hand in mine. It was so warm and soft. She had long slender
fingers that were unadorned save for a small high school class ring. I
had an urge to bring her hand to my lips and kiss it, but I shook it
softly instead.

"Eric, Eric Masterson," I said.

"Pleased to meet you, Eric," Sam said. "Where are your trying to go?"

I took out my schedule and showed it to her. I caught her scent, it
was sweet, almost like honeysuckle and it fit her perfectly. "I have
'Violence and Revolutionary Ideologies' right now."

Sam laughed. "Oooh, a budding anarchist. I bet you could get extra
credit if you storm Old Main and take over the president's office,"
she said with a giggle. She pointed across campus. "That's the
Soc-Psych building. Your class is in there."

I tried to think of something witty to say. Anything to prolong the
conversation and keep her there beside me. "Thanks," was the best that
I could do.

"Don't mention it. See you around, Eric." Sam turned and walked away.
I watched her, emptiness filled me as she retreated. She looked back
over her shoulder, stopped and turned back toward me laughing. "You
better get to class!" she shouted, smiling at me.

I threw up a hand in acknowledgement, then turned and walked toward
the building she had directed me to. I ended up five minutes late for
class. The professor was dressed like a hippie, long hair in a
ponytail that looked like it hadn't been washed in a year, blue jeans
with holes in the knees, and sandals. I tried to slip in the back.

"Ah, you must be Mr. Masterson," he said. "Glad you could make it."

He launched back into his lecture on the ideologies of radical groups.
I can't say I learned much that class, my mind was still out there on
the quadrangle, replaying my encounter with Sam and wondering whether
I would ever meet her again. I was jolted out of my daydreams when the
professor started handing out the reading assignments at the end of
class.

I went back to my room and rested until the dining hall opened for
lunch. I grabbed my books for my next class and headed over to the
dining room. As I came out of the food line I heard someone calling my
name. I looked around and saw Sam waving from a table in the corner.
She motioned for me to come over. As I approached, Sam cleared a space
for me to sit down beside her. "Hi again, Samantha," I said. She gave
me a look of mock exasperation.

"I told you my friends call me Sam, and I at least, consider you a
friend." I felt myself blushing again, as Sam burst out laughing. "You
're so cute when you blush. Sit down." Sam pointed to the two other
girls sitting at the table. "That's Debbie and Tina, they're my
roommates." We each said hello to the other.

"So did you make your class?" Sam asked.

I snorted. "Yeah, I was fashionably late which impressed the
professor."

"Who was the professor?" she asked.

"Russell Johnson."

Sam looked puzzled then she burst out laughing. "Gilligan's Island,
right?"

"How'd you know?" I asked.

"I use to have a crush on him, when I was young."

"Figures," I thought.

"So who was the professor for your class?" Sam tried again.

"Calhoun," I told her. Tall guy, dresses like a hippie, has hair that
looks like he never washes it tied up in a ponytail.

Sam crinkled her nose in distaste. "Yeah I know him. He would be the
type to enjoy teaching a class on revolutionary ideologies."

The conversation lagged so we all started eating. Debbie finished up
first and stood up.

"I need to get to class, I'll see you back at the apartment, Sam. It
was nice meeting you, Eric."

"Wait a sec," Tina said, as she wolfed down the last of her
cheeseburger. "I'll go with you. See you, Eric."

"See you," I said, as they grabbed their trays and books and left.

"What's your next class?" Sam asked.

"English Comp."

"Really," Sam said, drawing out the word. "With whom?"

I pulled my schedule out of my notebook. "It says here C. Johnson. You
know him?"

Sam laughed. "Not a him, a her. Cassie Johnson, it just so happens
that I have her for Comp, too. What time?"

"Two."

"Put it there, classmate," Sam said holding out her hand to me. I
shook it and I still wanted to kiss it. "How did you end up in a 200
course your first semester of your freshman year?"

"I guess I did pretty well on the advanced placement tests."

"I guess you did, what where your SAT's?"

"780 verbal, 690 math," I told her.

Sam shook her head laughing. "Good looking and smart too. I'm going to
have to keep you around. You are going to have to work on your sense
of direction though."

I felt myself blushing again. "You know you're really cute when you
blush," Sam said. My cheeks got redder. "Better get used to it, I like
making you blush."

"Lord help me," I thought. I took a deep breath and willed myself to
stop blushing. Sam and I talked about our hometowns and growing up
until it was time to leave for class. We headed over to the Literary
Arts building. Just as we reached the doors to go inside a large
good-looking guy approached Sam.

"Hey Sam," he said.

"Hi, Frank. Frank this is Eric, Eric Frank," she introduced us.

"Hey," he said to me then turned back to Sam. "The Dekes are having a
party after the game Saturday and I was wondering if you would like to
go with me?"

I could see Sam thinking. " I guess so, what time?"

I felt a little disappointment well up inside me when she agreed to go
out with him.

Frank smiled. "How about I pick you up at eight?"

"OK, I'll see you then. Come on, Eric, or we'll be late. See you,
Frank."

"Bye," he said to our backs. As we walked down the hall Sam filled me
in on Frank. "Frank's the quarterback on the team. We've gone out a
few times, had a few laughs. Well here we are."

We went in the classroom. A lot of the other students greeted Sam and
she said her hellos back to them. Carrie Johnson was an attractive
woman. She appeared to be in her late thirties. She handed out a
syllabus and told us what she expected of us. She had a manner of
teaching that could make the driest topic seem interesting, and she
turned out to be one of my favorite professors. The class ended all
too soon.

We walked outside after the class. "I have an hour until my next
class," Sam said. "When's yours?"

"Not until tonight, something called 'Physics for Society'."

Sam laughed. "You'll enjoy that, it's an experience not to be missed."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not telling, go to the first class, then we can talk about it."

I wasn't sure I liked the sound of that. I found out why that evening,
as I sat in the lecture hall, listening to Professor Winter as he
chain-smoked cigarettes. At times he had three of them going at once.
The cloud of smoke around him got so thick that you couldn't see him
by the time class ended.

"I'm going to hit the library for a bit," Sam said. "I'll see you
around, Wednesday in class if not before. Take care of yourself,
 Eric."

"I will, you do the same." Sam headed toward the library and I went
back to my dorm.

After that first day we became good friends. We studied together; she
took me to some parties with her. I spent a lot of time with Sam and
her friends. It was apparent from the first that Sam was wildly
popular on campus. She met very few people that she couldn't like in
some way. What was interesting to me was how oblivious she was to the
whole thing. She was just Sam, and she acted the way she did because
that was how she really was. I'm not sure when exactly I fell in love
with her. I just know I did. It killed me inside when she accepted
dates from all the guys that asked her out. She'd go out with them a
few times and eventually they would stop pursuing her and she would go
out with someone else. Sam didn't talk much about that part of her
life. I tended to believe that those guys pursued her for her looks
and when it became apparent that dating Sam would be a long-term
project they left for greener pastures.

I would be relieved when one would leave, only to start worrying again
when the next one came along. Each new suitor brought with him fresh
panic for me, while I wondered whether this would be the one that
could capture Sam's heart. I knew I needed to talk to her, tell her
how I felt about her, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her
something that would jeopardize our friendship. So I did nothing.

We would meet Thursday evenings at the library to study. I usually got
there first and staked out territory for Sam and myself. I was
surprised this time, though, when Sam was already there. "Hey," I
whispered as I sat down in front of her.

"Hey yourself. This is Brenda." She gestured to the girl beside her.

"Hi, Brenda, any friend of Sam's is a friend of mine."

She giggled softly. "I know, Sam told me the same thing on the way
over here."

I looked at Sam. Her eyes were filled with the same mischievous
delight I had seen the first day I met her. Somehow I knew it meant
trouble for me.

"What else has Sam told you," I asked.

"That you're sweet but you tend to get lost a lot," she giggled.

I felt a little heat rise to my cheeks. I stuck my tongue out at Sam.
"Thanks a lot."

"Don't mention it," Sam replied laughing softly. "You do get lost a
lot." She stuck her tongue out at me. "Brenda asked Debbie who the
cute guy was that was always hanging around us. I brought her over
here to see that you're a lot less cute in person than you are from a
distance."

I glanced over at Brenda and saw the hint of a blush appearing on her
cheeks. "Don't let her do that to you," I said softly, "she tries to
embarrass everyone."

"I do not, just you, 'cause you're so cute when you blush," Sam said.
"I need to get a book." Sam got up and left Brenda and me alone.

I studied Brenda. Black hair hung to her shoulders, with bangs that
reached almost to her eyes. Her brown eyes seemed perpetually sad. Her
sweater was loose and baggy making it difficult to discern her shape.
"So how did you meet Sam?" I asked.

I could see red creeping into her cheeks. "I really did ask Debbie who
the cute guy was," she said. "Debbie introduced me to Sam, and Sam
said I needed to meet you. So here I am."

"Here you are," I said. "Do you really think I'm cute?"

Brenda smiled shyly. Her eyes shifted from sad to a warm expression.
She was much more attractive when she smiled. "Yeah," she said.

"I don't think anyone has ever considered me cute before."

"Sure they do, all my friends think you're cute, and Sam and her
friends have said you were cute when I've been around."

"They have?"

"Sure."

I decided to change the subject. "So what are you majoring in?" I
asked.

"Computer Science."

"You like it?"

Her eyes lit up. "Yeah, it's fun trying to outthink the computer. Make
it do what you want it to do. I seem to have a knack for it. When I'm
coding I get into a flow and it's so neat. One idea after another
keeps popping into my head. It's like this big rush, you know, and the
next thing I know, hours have passed, and it's two in the morning, and
I need to get to bed. It's so cool when that happens."

She was animated now and her smile stayed with her. It was a very
attractive smile. Sam came back with her book and sat down.

"Well, it looks like you two have hit it off."

"Brenda was telling me about Computer Science."

"She was, what about it?" Sam asked.

"It's a rush," I said chuckling. Brenda giggled.

Sam stared at me like I had lost my mind. "Whatever," she said. Sam
dug into her books and started studying. Soon Brenda and I joined her.

The next day I met Sam at the Student Union Building for our usual
Coke before Comp. We discussed the latest campus gossip for a while
until Sam steered the discussion to Brenda.

"So what did you think of Brenda?" Sam asked.

"She's nice."

"Nice? That's it? Just nice?"

"She's cute," I said, smiling at her.

Sam stared at me dumbfounded, then she snickered. "I guess I deserve
that," she said.

"You did, now what did you want to know?"

"Are you going to ask her out?"

"Geez, Sam, I just met her," I said. "I'd rather ask you," I thought.

"So? It's not like you're asking her to marry you. Just ask her out to
a movie, or a party, or over to your place to study your etchings,"
she said, raising her eyebrows leeringly.

I laughed. "I don't own any etchings."

"Maybe you need to get some," she said smiling at me.

"If I did would you come study them with me," I thought longingly.
"Why the sudden interest in my love life?" I asked.

"Because as long as I've known you, you haven't dated anyone. College
is supposed to be about learning. Not just books and lectures, but
about yourself, too. I don't see you out there trying to learn what it
is you want out of life, what sort of person you want to share your
life with, and it worries me."

"Because I already know," I thought. "So what you're telling me is
that you want me to ask out Brenda because you're worried about me?" I
asked.

"Yes. No. Only if you want to. Cripes I'm really messing this up. If
not Brenda, ask Tina or Debbie, or anyone your heart desires."

"What about you," I whispered.

"What?" she asked, a surprised tone to her voice.

"What about you?" I asked a little louder.

"What about me?" she snapped.

"What if my heart desires you?"

She looked at my coolly, appraisingly. Those green eyes I loved so
dearly now stared deep inside me. I felt as if my soul were laid bare.
It was all I could do to hold her eyes with my own.

"You're serious," she said after staring at me for what seemed an
eternity.

"Absolutely," I replied.

"Eric, I. I'm not sure, I mean, oh hell!" She let out a deep sigh of
exasperation. The silence was deafening, a vast open ocean between us.
I wanted to crawl under the table or run away; do anything but sit
here and listen to what she was going to say. My stomach was doing
somersaults and my heart was racing a mile a minute.

Sam reached across the table and took my hands in hers. Her eyes were
the saddest I had ever seen them. "I've never considered you in that
way, Eric. You're my friend, first and foremost; you're my friend. I
didn't know you felt this way about me and what you just said, well,
it's a surprise. I need some time to think about this, to see if I can
feel that way. I want you to give me the weekend to think it over and
we'll talk Monday before class, OK?"

"OK," I croaked over the knot in my throat.

She smiled at me sadly. "Come on, we have to get to class."

I can't remember a thing we discussed or did in that class. All I
could do was think of Monday when Sam would tell me that she couldn't
love me in any way other than a friend. I moped through class and
through the entire weekend. I felt like a man on death row waiting for
my execution date. Time dragged slowly and despite my best efforts to
occupy myself, it was the longest weekend I had ever experienced.

Eventually the time came for me to meet her at the Student Union and I
trudged wearily to my doom. As I entered the building I saw Sam seated
at a table, she had already gotten a Coke for both of us. I flopped
into the chair. "Hi," I said.

"Hi yourself," she said back, a faint wisp of a smile on her face.

"Dare I hope?" I thought.

"I've thought about this long and hard," she began, "and it seems to
me that we at least ought to try."

"Yes!" I screamed in my mind, a smile coming to my face.

"I thought you would like that," she said, smiling at me. "But there
are some conditions."

"Conditions?"

"Yes, conditions. First, you and I will date once every other week
until the end of the semester. Second, you WILL date other people and
so will I. Third, we will take the summer off. We'll both go home,
think about this and whether we want it to continue. You WILL date
other people while you are home and I'll do the same. Fourth, if
either of us decides that this is not working, we end it. That's it,
that's all the conditions."

I thought about them. "I really don't want to date anyone else," I
said.

"I know, that's why you have to. I don't know why I didn't see it, but
looking back on us it was pretty obvious. You're infatuated with me,
and that's sweet, but you haven't allowed yourself the opportunity to
meet other women, to get close to them and find out if you like them.
If we are to work you need those experiences. I need to know that you
have them. I'm not perfect despite what you've built up in your mind.
You need to be able to compare me against others and right now you don
't have any others to compare me against. So you must date others or
else we don't date."

"If I must, I must."

Sam glared at me. "Listen Eric, I'm bending over backwards here. My
first inclination was to just say no. But we do have a special
friendship, one that is rare and precious. I'd hate to lose that, and
this whole thing can screw it up royally. But if it works," she smiled
sweetly, "well, if it works it just might be the best thing that will
ever happen to either of us. You can't go through the motions, you
have to want to do this or it will all fall apart. You need this
desperately even if you can't see that you do.

I thought some more. "What about sex," I asked.

Sam laughed. "What about it?"

"What if one of the women I will be dating wants sex?"

"You're a big boy, you can make your own decisions."

"So it won't upset you if I have sex with one of them?"

Sam thought about it. "No, it's part of what I think you need to
experience. If you decide to have sex with someone that's between you
and them. I don't need to know about it and don't want to."

"What about you?"

"The same rules apply, it's between me and them, and you don't need to
know about it."

"And us?"

"That, I think, will have to wait until after the summer."

I sat back and thought about what she had said. I knew what my answer
was. Hell, I would walk across fire and swim through freezing water to
get a date with her. "I agree to the conditions."

"Like you had a choice," she laughed. "Come on, we need to get to
class."

We grabbed our books and walked outside. As we walked across campus I
saw that the last bit of snow was melting and a hint of spring was in
the air.

"So where are you taking me Friday?" Sam asked.

"I think the movies would be a pretty good first date."

"I agree. Which one?"

"You pick."

"Huh-uh, you're paying so you pick."

"OK, I'll let you know."

"OK."

All in all, things were looking up.


END


--
Jack of all Trades

E-mail:  tradesjackofall@hotmail.com

My stories can be found at:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Jack_of_all_Trades/

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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