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Message-ID: <40609asstr$1043687403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Nick Scipio <imperatorSPAM@BLOCKmindspring.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Summer Camp - Book 2" by Nick Scipio - Ch 03 (mf, teen, oral)
Date: Mon, 27 Jan 2003 12:10:03 -0500
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Author: Nick Scipio
Title: Summer Camp - Book 2: Gina
Part: Chapter 03
Universe: Summer Camp
Summary: Coming-of-age story about a teenager whose family spends 
their summer vacations at a nudist camp.
Keywords: mf, teen, oral
Revision: 1.0
Archive: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/scipio/SummerCamp2
Mailing List: Scipio_Stories-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
FAQ: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/scipio/www/faq.htm

*****************************************************************
                       STANDARD DISCLAIMER

The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT 
entertainment. It contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL 
nature. If you are offended by sexually explicit content or 
language, please DO NOT read any further.

All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to 
any persons, places, individuals or situations is purely 
coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse 
any of the activities described in this story.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without 
the written permission of the author, Nick Scipio 
(imperatorSPAM@BLOCKmindspring.com). This story may be freely 
distributed with this disclaimer attached.

Copyright (c) 2003 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

*****************************************************************

Summer Camp - Book 2: Gina
by Nick Scipio

CHAPTER THREE

For the next week, I was an emotional wreck. What had I done? Why 
had I done it? The second question was easier to answer than the 
first: I was horny and feeling neglected, which made me powerless 
to resist Amy's desire and obvious attraction.

But it was the first question that seemed to haunt my every 
waking moment. What had I done? There were several levels to that 
answer, and I didn't like any of them. 

In a purely physical sense, I was worried that Amy might be 
pregnant. I could tell that she was worried about it too, but she 
was also wrapped up in the rush of emotion that comes from being 
in love. I could tell, I'd seen it before, and I'd felt it 
before. It bothered me a little bit that I could look at it from 
the outside, so analytically.

What did I feel for Amy? Was it love or was it just lust? Was it 
anything? Thankfully, I decided that it _was_ something, and more 
than just lust. I'd hate to have to face myself each morning if I 
thought I'd just been using her for sex. I wouldn't want to be 
the type of person who is callous enough to use someone else. I'd 
literally hate being me. So I was profoundly happy to realize 
that I did feel something for her. But was it love? It was 
certainly affection, but beyond that, I just didn't know.

For her part, Amy _knew_. She was in love. The rest of that day 
we spent at Scott's house (before the girls had to put in their 
token appearance at Becky Leonardi's) she had shown me constant 
affection. The next week, at school, she quietly insinuated 
herself next to me whenever she could. I enjoyed the attention, 
but I had another nagging problem: Gina.

I still loved Gina, very much. After the party at Scott's house, 
I was wracked with guilt. In my mind, I realized that sex with 
Susan, or Stacy, hadn't been cheating on Gina. If I'd had sex 
with Kendall, it would have been. As I slowly came to realize 
that I probably _was_ in love with Amy, I knew that I'd cheated 
on Gina. I _knew_ it, and I was too honest with myself to 
sugarcoat that fact.

The Friday before Easter, Scott, Shannon, and Amy wanted to go 
see a movie. I begged off, telling them that I had to go out to 
dinner with my family. It was a little white lie, but I didn't 
know what else to tell them. Mom could tell that something was 
up, because shortly after dinner (at home, of course), I went to 
my room, closed the door, and sat down at my desk.

I needed to write to Gina. I told her about my wrestling season. 
I told her about getting wrapped up in trying to be the best 
wrestler I could possibly be. I told her about how I lost track 
of everything that was important to me. I told her about my 
grades. I poured my heart out to her, telling her about my fears 
that we were slipping apart, my fears that she was mad at me, my 
fears that she'd never want to see me again. I told her how much 
I loved her. It was a guilt-fueled letter, but I had to try to 
justify my actions (although I never told Gina what those actions 
were). Seeing it on paper didn't make me feel any better, though.

It was late when I finally finished my letter to her, and my hand 
was cramped from all the writing. My pencil had gone from 
practically new to about three inches long. (I'd sharpened it 
every time I'd been unsure or upset, and I'd nearly whittled it 
down to nothing.)

I carefully folded the nine pages, and stuffed them into an 
envelope. As soon as I sealed it, I felt better. Unfortunately, 
the feeling was short lived. By the time I crawled into bed, I 
was feeling guilty about Amy.

How could I be in love with two girls at once? I lay awake for a 
long time thinking about that one. Every time I thought about 
either of them, I felt guilty for "neglecting" the other one. And 
when I thought about Kendall, and how I felt about her, I wanted 
to weep. In the silence of the night, alone in my room, I finally 
did. It had been a long time since I'd cried, about anything. I 
thought I heard Mom outside my door, but she didn't knock, and I 
eventually convinced myself that I'd been hearing things. 
Exhausted, both mentally and physically, I finally fell asleep.

-----

It took me a week to mail that letter. Twice, I came home from 
school and almost tore it up. Finally, Mom asked me about it, and 
I eventually agreed to let her mail it for me. I think she knew 
more than she let on, but she also knew that I had to work 
through things for myself. I guess that's what it means to be an 
adult, and she let me be responsible for my own actions. 
Sometimes, it really sucks to be an adult.

Amy knew something was up, but she just assumed that I was 
worried about our unprotected sex. She was a lot less worried 
about it than I was, and when I asked her about it, she got real 
quiet, and then looked at me seriously.

"My mom always told me she knew when she was pregnant with my 
brothers and me," Amy said. "She said she never knew how, but she 
just _knew_."

I looked at her, confused.

"If I was pregnant, I'd know."

I was clearly unconvinced, but decided to let it go.

-----

The next Thursday, Amy found me at my locker, just before lunch. 
She was on the verge of tears.

"Paul," she whispered urgently. "I'm late."

"For lunch? It's just started." Sometimes, I can be kind of slow 
on the uptake.

"No. I'm _late_."

Her tearful eyes spoke volumes, and I finally Got It. Every 
muscle in my body went slack, and it suddenly took a lot of 
effort just to breathe.

"Are you sure?" I asked. How dumb was that? I mentally kicked 
myself.

She nodded, the tears finally spilling down her cheeks.

I dumped my books in my locker, took hers and tossed them in as 
well, and shut the door. I put my arm around her and we simply 
walked out of school. No one even noticed as we walked off the 
campus. I thought someone would have said something to us, but no 
one did. I guess I was thankful for that, because I don't know 
what I would have said, or done, had anyone gotten in my way. I 
was feeling incredibly protective of Amy, and murderous towards 
anyone who might bar my path.

We walked to the McDonald's around the corner from the high 
school and sat there for a long time, neither of us talking. I 
don't know if a chocolate milkshake could solve any of our 
problems, but as we shared one, the world stopped seeming like it 
was closing in on us. The simple act of sharing that milkshake 
did more for us that afternoon than I think anything could have.

Finally, long after the milkshake was gone, we talked. I had 
painful visions of how my life would change if she were pregnant, 
and I knew that my imagination couldn't do justice to how Amy 
must have felt. Eventually, we both agreed to wait and see. Amy 
said she'd been late before, but never this long. Her period 
should have started six days before. I could tell that she was 
very scared, but trying to maintain her composure. I felt an 
impotent rage that there was nothing that I could do.

As we walked back to school, hand in hand, I felt like I had lead 
weights on my feet, and each step I took was taking me closer to 
my doom. I knew I loved Amy, but when I thought about marrying 
her and raising a child, especially at our age, I wanted to panic 
and run. I hated myself for that. Thank God Amy was too 
distraught to notice. I would have hated myself even worse, if 
she had.

We got a ride home with Scott and Shannon, and I could tell that 
Shannon knew. Scott was as clueless as I'd been, only a few hours 
before. Amy and I talked on the phone that night, but our 
conversation was desultory and short. I think I spent the longest 
night of my life, just staring at the shadows on my ceiling.

-----

The next day at school, Amy had to come to my locker to get her 
books. I could tell that she'd been crying, but she snapped at me 
that she was okay. I walked her to her first class, making me 
late for my own, but we didn't talk much. She seemed pretty 
angry, and I wanted to understand, but I didn't. I couldn't.

The rest of the day, whenever I saw her, it seemed like her mood 
was completely random. We shared our second period class, and she 
balefully stared at me when she walked into the classroom. After 
the bell rang, I asked her if she was okay. In a few harsh words, 
she basically told me to fuck off, that I'd had my fun but didn't 
have to pay the price, and that I didn't love her anyway.

I was stunned.

I was so upset that I almost didn't go to lunch, because I didn't 
want to see her. After a lot of reflection, I finally decided 
that, like it or not, it was my responsibility to be there for 
her, even if she just wanted someone to yell at (or about). Much 
to my surprise, she was waiting for me at the door to the 
lunchroom, and as soon as she saw me, she ran into my arms and 
squeezed me tight. We stood like that for a long time, blocking 
the lunchtime traffic into and out of the cafeteria. Once we 
finally joined our regular lunch crowd, Amy was actually very 
nice, although she did snap at me once or twice. I had no idea 
what was going on in her head, but I felt miserable and helpless.

I don't know what Shannon had told Scott, if anything at all, but 
they didn't ask us to double date that night. After school, Scott 
dropped off Amy, and then me. I said goodbye, shut the door, and 
then he and Shannon drove off in silence, leaving me to my 
thoughts. When I walked in the door, Mom noticed that I was 
upset, but I thought I was pretty convincing when I told her that 
nothing was wrong.

-----

To make matters worse, Gina called that weekend. It was all I 
could do not to panic and run when Mom handed me the phone. 
Thankfully, Mom took Erin shopping, leaving me alone (Dad was 
away due to a weekend layover in Dallas). I knew Gina must have 
gotten my letter, earlier in the week. She was positively giddy.

It took every ounce of self-control I possessed just to make it 
through the conversation. Fortunately, she did most of the 
talking, but I felt more and more guilty. If Amy were pregnant, 
how could I possibly tell Gina that things were over between us?

An hour later, when Mom and Erin returned, they were surprised to 
find that I was still on the phone. Mom could clearly tell that I 
wasn't happy, but Erin was thankfully clueless. Erin and I hadn't 
been as close as we'd been at the end of the previous summer, but 
we did actually treat each other like regular people, and I was 
worried that she'd start asking pointed questions about my mood. 
Luckily, she was excited about a new Paul McCartney album she'd 
bought, and didn't notice a thing.

When I mentioned that my mom had just gotten home, Gina suddenly 
remembered that her mom needed to talk to mine. Gina and I said 
our goodbyes--she told me she loved me, and I told her the truth, 
that I loved her very much--and then we each handed the phone to 
our moms.

I was worried about what Gina's mom might need to talk about, so 
I stuck around to eavesdrop a little. From Mom's side of the 
conversation, I quickly realized that Gina's parents, Chris and 
Elizabeth, were coming to Atlanta in two weeks, and they wanted 
to get together and have dinner. When I realized that the 
conversation wasn't about me, or Gina, I got up and went back to 
my room. I didn't want Mom asking too many questions about why I 
hadn't been happy talking to Gina.

The reality of the matter was that I was scared witless that Amy 
might be pregnant, and I was feeling incredibly guilty about 
still being in love with Gina.

"Does every teenager have a life this complicated?" I thought to 
myself.

I certainly hoped not.

-----

Monday morning, the phone rang while Erin and I were eating 
breakfast. Mom answered it, and then gave me a funny look when 
she handed the phone to me.

"Paul?"

It was Amy. I tried not to collapse at the sound of her voice. It 
had been a _long_ weekend, and we hadn't talked on the phone 
much. The first time we had talked, Saturday morning, things 
started off haltingly, and rapidly proceeded to go downhill. The 
second call was quick, and she was apologetic, but I could hear 
her mother in the background, and I knew she couldn't talk long. 
I'd wanted to call her on Sunday, but I just couldn't work up the 
courage.

"Hi," I said. It sounded lame, even to me, but it was the best I 
could do.

I could hear her put her hand over the phone, and then she 
whispered, "I started."

"Started what?" I asked, completely oblivious. For living in a 
house with two women, sometimes I was remarkably clueless.

"_It_. I got my period this morning."

I was silent for a moment, too stunned to even breathe.

"Isn't that great?!" she asked. Despite the fact that this was 
probably the best news either of us had received in a long time, 
she actually sounded a little wistful.

"Yeah, it sure is." I couldn't think of what else to say.

"Okay then," she said, removing her protective hand from around 
the mouthpiece. "I guess I'll see you at school."

"Yeah. I'll see you at school."

"I love you," she said, almost under her breath.

I was so relieved, and so shaken by the revelation, that I 
replied automatically. "I love you too."

Mom and Erin both looked at me suddenly. Mom's expression was 
understanding, and kind of sad. Erin simply looked curious.

"I can't wait to see you," Amy said.

"Mmm hmm. Same here," I replied, suddenly and acutely aware of my 
audience. "Bye."

"Bye."

Thankfully, I heard Scott honking from the driveway. Without 
saying a word, I snatched up my toast and thrust one corner in my 
mouth, grabbed my books, and dashed out the door.

-----

Amy was back to her old self. Almost. She still looked a little 
haunted by "what if" questions and self-recriminations, but she 
was even more affectionate than she had been after that first 
night. It was like she was saying, "he's mine," with her actions. 
I didn't know what to do, so I tried to enjoy it.

After that, Amy and I mostly settled into a routine. We spent 
time together before school, and then during lunch. The five of 
us guys--Scott, Tony, Scotty, Kelly, and I--still hung out 
together. Amy, Shannon, and Becky Leonardi usually joined us, and 
I noticed that Becky and Tony Malone were getting kind of close.

Except for that first weekend at Scott's house, Amy and I didn't 
have much time to do anything more than kiss. The only time was 
when we had a double date to a movie, with Scott and Shannon. 
Shannon's mother wouldn't let her go to a drive-in movie--Amy's 
mom wouldn't have let us go either, but the issue never came up, 
since Shannon's mom torpedoed the idea early on--so we went to a 
theater that was close to Shannon's house.

We ended up skipping the last part of the movie and going to the 
local lover's lane, where Scott parked the car and turned off the 
engine. While Scott and Shannon made out in the front seat, Amy 
and I fooled around in the back. Scott drove a big '68 Buick 
Electra 225, so we had plenty of room.

When Shannon's head disappeared from our view, Scott put his arm 
across the seat back and leaned his head against the headrest. 
Amy looked at me lustfully, and I felt my sudden erection throb 
expectantly. I guess she had gotten worked up enough that she 
didn't care if Scott and Shannon knew what we were up to, even 
though they were up to the same thing.

I slid down in the seat while Amy's hands worked on my belt. She 
roughly extracted my dick and immediately descended upon it. 
After the pregnancy scare, I'd gotten very used to my hand, and 
her mouth felt wonderful.

She ran her tongue around my glans, her small hand slowly 
stroking my shaft. When she took the head into her mouth, I 
almost came. Fortunately, my self-control was stronger than the 
urge to ejaculate. I rested my hand on her back as she took my 
dick out of her mouth and began planting wet, open-mouthed kisses 
all along the sensitive underside.

She tried to take as much of me in her mouth as she could, but 
she couldn't manage more than a couple of inches. I put my hand 
over hers and guided her motions, and my balls soon felt ready to 
boil over.

In the front seat, Scott took his arm off the back of the seat 
and put it on top of Shannon's bobbing head. He groaned, and I 
knew he was filling her mouth with his come. Although I wanted 
to, I couldn't last much longer than Scott had.

With a rush, I felt my come surging up my shaft. Amy locked her 
lips around the crown and I directed the motions of her hand with 
my own, the two of us stroking my shaft as I spurted my semen 
down her throat. She swallowed it all, and then took her lips off 
my cock to take a deep breath. She quickly returned her mouth to 
my slowly shrinking shaft. My head was too sensitive, however, 
and I lifted her off me after only a few licks.

I wanted to return the favor for Amy, but she got nervous at the 
idea of taking her pants off "in front of" Scott and Shannon. I 
suppose it was for the best, however, because we soon had to get 
the girls home, before their 11 o'clock curfews.

-----

While my life with Amy had mostly returned to normal, I had 
another thing to worry about. Gina's birthday was coming up, and 
it was simply one _more_ reminder of the duplicitous life I was 
leading.

At times, with Amy, I could be incredibly happy. I _did_ love 
her. Whenever I got a letter from Gina, I'd be on cloud nine. But 
sooner or later, I'd start thinking about the other girl, and I 
would sink back into a funk.

For Gina's birthday present, I finally settled on a silver 
bracelet, with her initials engraved on it. Mom helped me pick it 
out, and I could tell that she wanted to know what was going on, 
but I clammed up whenever she started to ask. She quickly got the 
message, and left me alone about it.

Wasn't it bad enough that I was beating myself up over the 
situation with Amy and Gina? Did Mom have to do it too? I was 
certain that no one else in the history of the world had ever 
faced what I was going through. Although Mom didn't say anything, 
I knew she probably knew. I also knew that she wouldn't 
understand. How could she?

-----

Chris and Elizabeth Coulter came to visit us on May 10th. No one 
told me why they were in town, and I didn't ask. I didn't really 
want to spend much time with them. I was certain that they'd be 
able to see right through me and learn about Amy.

Thankfully, they only stayed in town for a few days. The first 
night, they had dinner with someone else (I don't know who). The 
next night, they had dinner with our family. And then on Saturday 
night, they went out with Mom and Dad. Finally, they returned to 
Charleston on Sunday, taking my birthday present for Gina with 
them.

On Gina's birthday, the 17th, she called to thank me for the 
bracelet--she loved it. For a little while, I was almost as happy 
as she was. She couldn't stay on the phone long since it was a 
school night, but her parents had made an exception and let her 
call when it wasn't a weekend. After a short, gushing 
conversation, we told each other, "I love you," and got off the 
phone.

I don't really know what ashes taste like, but after I hung up 
the phone, I had a pretty good idea.

-----

The end of school was drawing near, and my family once again 
planned to spend the entire summer at Camp. Dad had bid his lines 
so that he could cram all of his trips together, but when he did 
have to fly he would be gone for a couple of weeks at a time. We 
couldn't leave immediately after school ended, since Dad had to 
fly a trip to Houston, so we decided to leave a few days after my 
birthday.

I tried to explain to Amy that I'd be gone for the entire summer, 
and that we probably couldn't talk on the phone. She didn't take 
it very well. I couldn't very well tell her where we were 
_really_ going, so I gave her the standard story about visiting 
our "Aunt Susan" in South Carolina, who had a big lake and lots 
of property.

I told Amy that it would even be hard for me to get mail over the 
summer, since we only checked the mail every couple of days. That 
was a little white lie; Susan checked the large camp mailbox, 
which was out by the main road, every day. In truth, I didn't 
know if I'd be able to write to Amy, much less every day. She was 
incredulous and insistent. Finally, I asked Mom for the mailing 
address for the Camp, and gave it to Amy. I could see that she 
wasn't happy about not being able to call, but she finally agreed 
that writing letters was good enough.

I _hated_ lying to her. It felt like I was betraying myself, as 
well as her. Of course, whenever I told anyone about my summer 
vacations, I always left out pertinent details, but to Amy, I was 
lying outright. I felt like such a cad. I was supposed to love 
her, wasn't I? And people who loved each other didn't lie to each 
other, did they? For the entire week before the end of school, I 
was sullen and depressed.

Then, as if my life hadn't already gone to hell, Amy and I had a 
big fight on the last day of school. She still couldn't 
understand _why_ I'd be gone the entire summer, and why she 
couldn't call, and why I couldn't write, and... and a lot of 
things. I guess she had every right to be upset, and I couldn't 
even find the emotional energy to argue with her.

She started crying, but I simply didn't know what to say to her, 
or what to do. It's not like I could've told my family that I'd 
be staying home for the summer. My life had become a shambles, 
and I had no idea how to fix things. Amy told me that she didn't 
want to see me again, ever. What was I supposed to do? My family 
was leaving for South Carolina in four days.

Scott and Shannon took Amy home, and I ended up catching a ride 
to my house with Kelly Duchesne and his older brother.

Wasn't the last day of school supposed to be fun?

-----

To top things off, the next day was my birthday. I'll never 
forget my sixteenth birthday, since it was perhaps the worst day 
of my life. I was so depressed that I didn't even care about 
getting my driver's license.

On the surface, things with Gina had been fine--better than fine, 
in fact. That was one of the reasons that Amy and I hadn't been 
getting along. I guess I felt guilty any time I was around her, 
and while she didn't know the reason, she could sense my 
disquiet.

Unfortunately, I was also feeling incredibly guilty about lying 
to Gina. I rationalized that while it wasn't lying outright 
(she'd never directly asked me if I had another girlfriend), it 
was certainly lying by omission, and that was just as bad.

So I had girlfriend problems with not one but _two_ girlfriends. 
Worse: in reality, I had problems with one girlfriend and one ex-
girlfriend. Forget the fact that it's because I _had_ two 
girlfriends that I was having problems.

Eventually, Mom talked me into getting my license the day after 
my birthday. We went down to the testing station, and I passed, 
but I couldn't even be happy about that achievement.

How had I done this to myself? Not for the first time, I silently 
cursed that life just wasn't fair.

No matter how bad my life was, however, time marched on. Dad was 
due back the next day, and the day after that, we were set to 
leave for Camp. We had a lot to do before our trip: packing and 
making arrangements for our extended absence. I suppose I needed 
the time, doing mindless things, to take my mind off my problems, 
but it didn't seem to help.

I was so depressed that I wasn't even looking forward to seeing 
Susan. _That's_ how bad I felt.

-----

The drive to Camp was much quieter than usual. I'm sorry to say 
that my foul mood kind of permeated the car. It was a long drive 
from our house to Camp, and I felt like I was going from one doom 
to another. I'd have a short respite, but not long. I had 
received a letter from Gina just before we left, informing me 
that her family was due to arrive at Camp on the last day of 
June, and would be there for four weeks.

I would have three weeks to figure out what, if anything, I was 
going to tell Gina. I didn't want to just leave her in the dark, 
although that would certainly make my life easier. It just 
wouldn't seem right. My dad always told me that sometimes, you 
just have to face things like a man. I guess this was one of 
those times. I didn't have to like it, but I was going to do it.

Shortly before our arrival at Camp, we stopped at the Winn-Dixie 
to pick up groceries. Mom had been making two separate shopping 
lists for the past hour. I assumed that she and Erin would shop 
together, and that Dad and I would take care of the stuff on the 
other list. As we walked into the store, however, she handed one 
list to Erin and Dad, and kept the other for the two of us. When 
they headed towards the other end of the store, Mom turned to me.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" she asked gently.

"About what?" I asked, as brightly as I could.

"About whatever's been bothering you since we left the house. 
Since the end of school, really. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"It might help."

"I doubt it," I said sullenly.

"Oh," she mused. "I don't know. Why don't you try it and find 
out?"

"It won't do any good."

"Okay then, how about I talk, and all you have to do is listen?" 
she reasoned.

I shrugged and kept pushing the shopping cart, morosely following 
her lead.

"I think you're feeling guilty."

I looked at her sharply and narrowed my eyes.

She nodded. "About Amy, and about Gina."

Panic welled up within me. I was suddenly sure that she could see 
right through me. If she knew about Amy and...

"Did you have a fight with Amy?"

I felt like I'd been dropped flat on my back by a double-leg 
takedown. I recovered a little bit as her question registered, 
but not much. At least she hadn't asked me about the pregnancy 
scare, I thought ruefully.

"I thought so," Mom said, upon seeing my expression.

"How did you...?"

She stopped walking and I had to pull up short to avoid hitting 
her with the cart. "Paul," she said gently. "When you father was 
in the Navy, and he had to go on cruise with his squadron, it was 
always very stressful. How do you think I felt, knowing that he 
was going into combat, and that he might be killed?"

I stood looking at her, my mouth agape.

"When your dad shipped out, I had the other wives to help me 
through it, especially some of the older women. Amy doesn't have 
that. Granted, you're not going off to fight a war, but she 
doesn't know how to handle the fact that you're leaving for the 
summer. That's pretty stressful, for anyone."

She looked at me seriously. I took a deep breath and tried to get 
a handle on how I felt.

"Also," she said sadly. "If you're angry at someone, it makes it 
easier to say goodbye." She was contemplative for a moment, and 
then shook her head sadly. When she looked up, she smiled wanly, 
and I began to wonder if we were still talking about Amy and me.

"Mom, I..." I didn't know what to say.

"It's okay, honey. People are like that sometimes. It's human 
nature. But," she said seriously, "Amy is only half your problem, 
isn't she?"

"I don't know what..."

"Paul, do you think I don't notice how happy you are when you get 
a letter from Gina, or when she calls?"

I looked at her, stunned.

"And then how mopey you get afterward, when you start feeling 
guilty?"

I swallowed hard and blinked. How could she know all this? I 
thought I'd done a pretty good job covering up how I felt, and 
what I was going through. Evidently, I hadn't. _Note to self: 
Don't underestimate Mom anymore._

"It's okay, honey. Not everything in life is meant to be easy. 
Some of the best things are very difficult, but they're worth it. 
But you can't keep everything to yourself all the time. Do you 
understand?"

I nodded mutely.

"Sometimes, it helps to talk about things. And sometimes, it 
helps to know that you're not the only one who's ever felt like 
you do. If you keep things bottled up, they'll only seem worse."

She stepped around the cart and looked up at me soberly.

"You're not my little boy anymore," she said. "But you know you 
can always talk to me, right? About anything."

"I know, Mom," I said, my voice scratchy with emotion.

She hugged me tight, and although I was a little self-conscious 
about hugging my mom in the dairy aisle of the Winn-Dixie, I 
wrapped my arms around her and hugged her back.

"I love you, Paul. You'll always be special to me."

"I love you too, Mom."

When she pulled back, she smiled at me bravely. "I'm serious. You 
can talk to me about anything you want, whenever you're ready."

I nodded and she smiled at me.

"Now," she said, her voice once again steady and sure. "Let's 
finish our shopping. I can't wait to get to Camp."

-----

When we finally pulled up to our cabin--the same one from the 
year before--we were tired and stiff. I was in a little better 
mood, but not much. I still didn't feel like I could talk to Mom 
about it, and my impending meeting with Gina loomed large in my 
mind. So I was surprised to see Susan walking up the hill to 
greet us.

"Hi," she said cheerfully.

She was wearing her ubiquitous bikini bottom (it was an off-
white, lace-type fabric), and a big sun hat. I'd forgotten how 
good she looked, and when she smiled at me, I felt the first 
spark of guilt-free happiness that I'd felt in a long time.

We all chorused our greetings and she started picking through the 
keys on a large key ring.

"I thought you guys would be here later, so I haven't had time to 
unlock the cabin and sweep it out," Susan said.

"Oh, that's no problem," Mom said. "I can get it." Then Mom 
looked thoughtful for a moment and turned to my dad. "David, can 
you, Paul, and Erin get the groceries unloaded and put away while 
Susan and I get the cabin swept out?"

"Not a problem, baby. C'mon kids, let's get this show on the 
road."

And just like that, we were back in the car and headed down the 
hill to the clubhouse. The three of us lugged in the first load 
of groceries, and then Erin stayed in the kitchen to organize 
things while Dad and I brought in the rest of the food and 
drinks. Working together, we had everything squared away in about 
15 minutes.

Dad asked if I wanted to drive the car back up the hill, and I 
surprised myself; I jumped at the chance. We all piled back into 
Mom's station wagon, with me at the wheel, and headed back up the 
hill. When we got to the cabin, Susan and Mom were standing on 
the porch, talking to each other. I carefully made sure I had 
room to make the turn--I didn't want to hit the stairs up to the 
porch--and turned the steering wheel. When I judged that the rear 
of the car was in front of the steps, I gently put my foot on the 
brake.

I got a small, teasing round of applause from Mom and Susan when 
I stepped out of the car. I blushed furiously, but took it in 
stride, giving them a theatrical bow. With that, we started 
unloading the car. We had all the usual things: folding lawn 
chairs, bed linens and pillows, bath towels, beach towels, and 
several baskets and travel bags filled with all the things a 
nudist family needs for a summer vacation. We unloaded our 
personal suitcases, and that left only one more thing in the car.

For my birthday, Mom and Dad gave me a really nice set of Weider 
weights, complete with a bench, curling bar, and dumbbell bars. I 
used some of my saved-up allowance money to buy some extra 
weights (the set didn't come with enough for me to bench my usual 
weight). Instead of un-boxing the extra weights, I'd simply 
packed them in the car for the trip to Camp. I only brought along 
the curling bar and dumbbell bars, but with them, I could work on 
almost all of my upper body. With the weights, sit-ups, push-ups, 
and a jump rope, I could easily stay in shape over the summer.

In four trips, I carried all the weights from the car up to the 
porch. It was a normal South Carolina day, which meant that it 
was hot and muggy, and we'd all worked up a sweat unloading the 
car. I know I wasn't the only one who couldn't wait to hit the 
lake and cool off.

Once inside the cabin, I saw that things had changed little. The 
bunk beds to the left of the door and the queen-sized bed for my 
parents were all the same. The couch was the same as well, but 
both upholstered chairs were replaced by newer ones. In the right 
rear corner, the bathroom looked the same, and I suspected that 
if I'd looked in the closet next to it, I'd see the same water 
heater that had been installed the summer before. The dresser on 
the back wall had been replaced, however, with one that was 
bigger and longer.

Mom, as usual, insisted that we make our beds and unpack our 
suitcases before we could go down to the lake. With surprisingly 
little grumbling, Erin and I dragged out our sheets and made our 
beds. Since hers was on the bottom bunk, she was finished before 
I was, but she actually stood and waited while I finished. She 
even handed me my top sheet and pillow, so I wouldn't have to 
climb down the ladder to get them. I was a little amazed at how 
conscientious she was being, but grateful nonetheless.

While Mom and Dad were making their bed (they'd had to move all 
the stuff that we'd piled on it), Erin and I unpacked our 
suitcases and stored in the dresser what few clothes we'd 
brought.

As Erin and I unpacked and arranged things, Mom, Dad, and Susan 
idly chatted about the changes at the camp, the scheduled arrival 
of other families, and things like that. I was occupied getting 
my things put away, and didn't pay much attention. Once we had 
everything put away, we all stripped off our clothes.

Over the year, I'd had enough occasions to see my family nude, 
mostly separately. Both Mom and Dad slept in the nude, and 
wouldn't bother putting on clothes before they came out of their 
room in the morning. Mom usually put on a short housedress when 
she fixed us breakfast, but other than that, she usually wore 
clothes during the day.

The same was true with Erin. Neither of us were self conscious 
about letting the other see us nude. After all, we shared a 
bathroom, and getting ready for school in the mornings was 
sometimes hectic.

But as my family disrobed, I did enjoy a good look at my mother 
and sister. Mom had changed little; except that she didn't have 
her usual summer tan. Her breasts were still fairly firm, and her 
pubic hair was neatly trimmed, perhaps a little narrower than the 
year before.

Erin had changed a lot over the past year, as had I. She was 
nearly as tall as Mom, but hadn't yet filled out completely. Her 
long legs and still-narrow hips made her look coltish, but I 
could see Mom's beauty coming out in her face, as well as her 
figure. Her breasts actually had a nice, firm shape to them, 
rather than the cones with nipples that they'd been the year 
before. Her pubic hair had filled out as well, and had gotten 
darker.

When I finally got my clothes off, Susan looked at me in shock, 
and I started to panic. I'd always been self-conscious about my 
weight, but that had seemed to fade into the background over the 
past year. Now, with Susan staring at me, I felt a wave of 
anxiety wash over me. Mom merely grinned at her expression.

"Who's ready to go to the lake?" Dad asked, oblivious to the 
entire exchange between me, Susan, and Mom.

"Me!" Erin cried. "Race ya!" She picked up her towel and bolted 
out the door.

The screen door then banged shut behind my father as he raced out 
next, and the three of us were alone. Susan realized that she was 
staring, and actually blushed when she averted her eyes. Panic 
gnawed at my belly. I knew I had gained weight for wrestling, and 
I was still concerned about being too pudgy, but I hadn't 
expected Susan to be so insensitive as to stare at me.

"I'm sorry, Paul," she said hastily, as soon as she saw my 
panicked expression. "It's just that you've... changed. So much."

Mom was grinning insufferably, and I began to get a little worked 
up as anger slowly replaced my panic.

"Wow!" Susan exclaimed. "You look great!"

Huh?

She looked at my expression and laughed richly. I merely 
squirmed.

"You said he'd changed," Susan said to my mom. "But wow!"

"I'm still here, you know," I said petulantly, shifting nervously 
from foot to foot.

Mom was still grinning broadly, and I began to wonder what the 
joke was. I'd begun to suspect that it was me.

"Paul," Susan said reasonably. "You probably don't see it, 
because you're used to your body, but you've changed. A lot. 
You've lost weight, and gotten much more... um... firm."

"No, I haven't," I said, acutely aware that I'd actually _gained_ 
12 pounds.

"Well, maybe not, but you look like you have."

I looked at her curiously.

"And your chest and shoulders. Wow. You're taller too," she said 
appreciatively.

My chest and shoulders? Huh?

"You look..." She shook her head and looked at me, her eyes wide 
with approval. "You look great!"

"Come here, Paul," Mom said gently, still smiling at me. "Let me 
put some sun block on your back and shoulders, and then you can 
go down to the lake. Susan and I have got some catching up to do. 
Okay?"

I nodded and shuffled over to her, mulling over the conversation 
in my mind. She reached into one of her bags and pulled out the 
industrial-sized bottle of Bain de Soleil. When I was properly 
slathered, she patted me on my bare ass and shooed me out of the 
cabin.

As I walked down the hill, the sound of their animated 
conversation faded. I was still thinking about what Susan had 
said, and the expression on her face. Did I really look that 
different? I didn't think so, but Susan obviously did. Was that 
really a bad thing? I decided it wasn't, and picked up my pace 
down the hill, feeling a little less like the weight of the world 
was on my shoulders.

-----

Down at the lake, I found Dad lounging on his towel, which he'd 
spread on the ground, while Erin was sunning herself on the raft. 
I was still hot from unloading the car, and decided to swim for a 
few minutes to cool off.

The water was shockingly cold, and my testicles retreated into 
the warmth of my body as soon as I dived into the water. After 
the stifling heat and humidity, the lake felt heavenly. 
Eventually, I swam over to the raft and climbed up next to Erin, 
taking care not to drip cold water on her.

Not for the first time, I envied the fact that she'd gotten Mom's 
complexion, and in a few days, she'd have the start of a deep 
bronze tan. I, however, had Dad's complexion, and could sunburn 
if I so much as thought about the sun. I knew I couldn't stay out 
long the first day, but I wanted to relax on the raft and not 
worry about the world and all of my problems.

No sooner had I settled down than Erin turned to me. "Are you 
still Gina's boyfriend?"

I almost choked. "What makes you ask that?"

"I dunno. I was just thinkin' about it."

"Oh."

"So. Are you?"

"I don't know," I said with a sigh.

"How can you not know?" Erin asked.

"It's complicated."

"What about Amy?"

"What about her? What do you know about Amy?" I asked 
suspiciously.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "Except that you love her. You do, 
don't you?"

"Yeah," I answered moodily.

"But I thought you were in love with Gina."

"I am." Why had both Mom and Erin picked today, of all days, to 
ask me the really difficult questions?

"But, if you're..."

"Erin! Can we talk about something else? Please?"

"Yeah," she said, sounding wounded. "Sure. Whatever."

We both sulked silently for a moment, and then she looked at me 
thoughtfully.

"Do you think Drew and Kendall will be here this summer?" she 
asked.

"Yeah. I guess they'll be here." Great! Bring up the _third_ girl 
I was in love with. Thanks, Erin. What are little sisters for?

"Cool," she said, completely oblivious.

"Yeah."

I lay my head on my arms and tried to relax. Erin let me, for the 
most part. But I could tell she was fidgety, and wanted to talk 
some more. Finally, she couldn't stand it any longer.

"Are you and Aunt Susan gonna... you know?" she asked, her voice 
almost a whisper.

"Erin!"

"What?" she asked indignantly. "I was just asking. What's wrong 
with that?"

"Erin!"

"'Cause if you are gonna... you know..."

"Erin! Just drop it, willya."

"Sure. Jeez. Why're you so touchy?" she asked, all huffy.

"Look, Erin. Sometimes, it's not as simple as that. Sometimes, 
life just sucks, and it doesn't make sense, and there's not a 
fucking thing you can do about it!"

Erin was startled by my vehemence, and deep down inside, so was 
I. She lay back down and stopped talking to me altogether. After 
a while, she got up quietly.

"I'm sorry, Paul," she said softly. "I was only trying to be 
nice."

Then she dived off the raft and started swimming for the side of 
the lake. I didn't think I could possibly feel worse. I turned 
over on my back, laced my fingers behind my head, and started 
feeling sorry for myself. Again.

I didn't know what to do about Amy, if there even _were_ anything 
I could do. I didn't know what to do about Gina, and I didn't 
have long to figure it out. I didn't even know what to say to 
Susan. And now, I'd managed to hurt Erin's feelings, when she was 
only trying to help. My record with women was getting 
depressingly bad, and I had no idea how to fix things.

-----

That night, Susan ate dinner with us. The conversation around me 
was animated, but I didn't take part in it. Mom tried to draw me 
out, and then Susan did her best as well, but I was determined 
that I wasn't going to let anybody make me feel any better. 
Towards the end of dinner, Susan became serious, and the 
conversation died down.

"Bernie Kestrel died right after the new year," she said soberly.

Mr. Kestrel was one of the year-round residents. I didn't know 
him well, but I did at least know who he was. In the self-
centered way of most teenagers, I didn't see why it was important 
enough for Susan to bring up, however.

"I'm so sorry to hear that," Mom said.

"Me too," Susan said.

"He was a good friend of your father's, wasn't he?" Dad asked.

"Yes," Susan said. "He was like an uncle to me. He'd lived here 
since before Dad died."

"That's really too bad," Mom said.

Susan merely nodded heavily, and then she looked at me. I blinked 
and cocked my head to the side, confused.

"His son, Gregory, was here right after his dad died, just to 
take care of the arrangements and pack a few things, but he 
didn't have time to do more. He asked if I could take care of the 
house for him, until he had time to get here himself. I agreed."

"That was very kind of you," Mom said.

"Unfortunately, Gregory couldn't arrange to be here, so he asked 
me if I couldn't box up a few heirlooms and send them to him. He 
wants the rest of the household donated to the Camp, or to the 
Salvation Army. I told him that I'd take care of it."

I got the distinct impression that an enterprising young man, 
namely me, was about to be volunteered to help.

"So," Susan said, looking at me again. "How 'bout it? It's about 
a weeks' work, and I'll pay you four dollars an hour."

Four dollars an hour was considerably better than I'd gotten paid 
the year before. But I didn't relish the idea of shoveling out 
Mr. Kestrel's junk for a week. When I looked at my parents' 
faces, however, I realized that I didn't really have a choice. 
With a sigh, I nodded.

"Great!" Susan said. "You want to start first thing in the 
morning?"

No. I wanted to sleep in, and then I wanted to lie around like 
the King of Siam. "Sure, first thing in the morning," I said 
sullenly.

"I'll feed you breakfast first," she said cheerfully.

Susan and Mom shared a look, and I nodded again. Even the 
prospect of having breakfast with Susan, and what that might 
entail, couldn't cheer me up.

She reached across the table and took my hand in her own, 
stroking my knuckles with her thumb. "Thank you for agreeing to 
help, Paul," she said earnestly.

I may have completely screwed up my life, I thought to myself, 
but I still remembered my manners. "You're welcome."

-----

Copyright (c) 2003 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

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