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Subject: {ASSM} Lucky Tickets Chapter 08 (mf ff rom 1st teen non-con mc md humil)
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<1st attachment, "Chapter-08.txt" begin>
Title: Lucky Tickets
Author: JiMC
Copyright and Disclaimer:
This story is copyright (c) 1998, 2002, 2003. All rights
are reserved by the author, including that of
publication. Posting on-line is only allowed when
permission is explicitly granted by the author, and then
only for the complete story, including this disclaimer.
Contact the author at <jimc-author at excite dot com> for
more information, referring to this story ("Lucky
Tickets"). (Permission for posting on storiesonline.net
and asstr-mirror.org is explicitly granted.)
The following is a work of fiction and is just a fantasy.
Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely
coincidental and entirely unintentional. There may be
references to people in a historical context, but they
are not really characters in this story.
This is a story that describes some sexually explicit
situations in a fictional universe that only vaguely
seems to be similar to the real universe. Most of the
characters in this story are under aged, however the
target audience is adults (people over the age of
eighteen) with broad minds.
Chapter 8
It rained the very next morning. It was a hard,
torrential rain, and the sky was dismally grey.
I had called Patty the night before, and told her that my
family was expecting her to arrive at eight o'clock for
breakfast. Patty seemed pleasantly surprised over the phone.
She had told me on a few occasions that I needed to deal with
my parents, and I had done so, handling my mother without
having to resort to using any of my lucky tickets. I took no
chances with my step-father, however, not really knowing him
as well as my mother.
I had been on pins and needles almost the entire night
before. I hadn't given a time limit on the wish I had given
my step-father, and hoped that it would at least last through
the morning. However, I did make similar sorts of wishes
without any expirations, such as having Wendy and Camille
trust me and treat me as a friend, and they were still going
strong. I considered keeping my roll of tickets handy, but
in the end, I finally decided that I would just take things
as they happen.
It occurred to me that Merry was able to explain about
how the wishes worked when given a wish to do so (this sounds
much more complicated than it really was). I thought I'd ask
Patty to try an experiment later so I can figure out why some
wishes require time limits, and possibly answer some other
questions that I had occurred to me over the last few days.
Patty arrived promptly on time, and she parked in front
of my house. She ran from her car to my front door, trying
to avoid getting too wet. The rain was pouring in sheets,
however, so Patty was ultimately unsuccessful. She had a
plastic kerchief on her head, and a nylon rain coat over the
rest of her clothes, so only her shoes were wet when she got
into the foyer. Since our family mostly just wears socks
around the house, I had Patty take off her shoes and rain
coat, and put them in the entrance foyer.
The rest of my family were in the kitchen, waiting for my
guest. I took Patty into the kitchen and introduced her, and
they all exchanged pleasantries.
"Why don't you sit down, Patty?" my mother said.
"Thank you," Patty said, taking her seat.
My mother seemed just a bit uncomfortable, but tried to
be as good a hostess as she ever was. She offered Patty some
coffee cake, which she accepted.
"Jim tells me that you're a senior," my mother said.
"Yes. I'll be going into twelfth grade when school
starts after Labor Day," Patty said.
"Jim will be attending high school as well," my mother
added, carefully avoiding the fact that I would be entering a
grade two years younger.
"Patty," my step-sister said, "Is that your car in front
of the house?"
"Yes, Merry."
"Wow. How old were you when your father gave you a car?"
Merry always had her own personal agendas, and I was quite
used to it.
"I'd imagine she was a few years older than you are,
young miss," my step-father answered.
Patty smiled. "I got it last month. Seniors can park at
school."
"That sounds wicked!" Merry explained.
"Have you picked out a college, Patty?" my mom asked.
"I think I may do liberal arts at the community college
for a couple of years," Patty said.
My mother nodded.
It hadn't occurred to me that college would be something
that a high school student would have to think about. I
realized that I would probably be expected to think about
college in a couple of years, if not sooner. It occurred to
me that the two year difference in my age and Patty's was a
bigger gulf than I had thought during the past few days. (In
retrospect, I think that making me think this may have been
the reason for some of my mother's questions.)
"Liberal arts sounds fine. I wish I had earned a college
degree," my mother mused.
The conversation that morning at the breakfast table
continued in the same vein. It was pleasant enough, and only
my mother seemed to be forcing her good humor, but I doubted
that Patty would have noticed it, not knowing my mother as
well as I did.
After breakfast, I went to do the dishes, but Merry
stopped me, telling me she'd do it, and I that I should
attend to my guest. I was a bit surprised, but again, I had
a pretty good relationship with her.
Patty and I adjourned to my room. I put on a Beatles
album at least so my mother could rationalize that we were
just listening to records.
Patty immediately removed her blouse and bra as she
entered my room, almost before the door was closed. She then
got on her knees in the middle of my room.
"What are you doing, Patty?"
"It's Patricia," corrected my guest.
"Sorry, Patricia. What are you doing?"
"You are supposed to tell me to put your penis in my
mouth."
I smiled. "You're Kristen this morning?"
Patricia nodded.
The episode with Kristen was still fresh in my mind. I
ordered Patricia to pull my dick out of my pants. She
unbuttoned, unzipped, and pulled my jeans down just as
Kristen did before.
She then took my cock and placed it in her mouth.
"Oy um a fock'n butch!"
I almost laughed. Patty was not any better than Kristen
at talking with a dick in her mouth. I didn't laugh, though,
since it would have spoiled the mood.
"Oy um a fock'n butch!"
I watched as Patty started sucking me in earnest. "Ummm
um fummmummm bumm," she moaned, exactly as Kristen had done
yesterday.
The whole scene was really quite erotic for me, and
seeing Patty sucking me while I was remembering Kristen doing
exactly the same thing soon had me erupting in her mouth.
"That was wonderful, Patricia!"
"Thank you, James," Patricia said, pleased at herself.
She still had my come in her mouth. "May I swow-woe?"
"Well, I don't know how I can have you French kiss Patty,
so I guess you can swallow."
"Oy could kiss yoom," Patty suggested.
I laughed and shook my head, not relishing the thought of
tasting a full load of my sperm. Patty swallowed, and smiled
in triumph.
"That was fun," Patty said. "How did you come up with
that punishment for Kristen?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "I just tried to think of
something that would embarrass her in front of the three of
you."
"Think you could come up with something embarrassing for
me, James?" Patty said, emphasizing the name she used.
I sighed. "I don't know. When I'm angry, I usually
think of nasty ways of getting even. But I can't imagine me
being that angry with you."
"Yes, James," Patty said, a bit sadly.
I was afraid that I had hurt her feelings... by not
hurting her feelings. The whole situation seemed
preposterous.
"James?" Patty said, still in "slave" mode.
"Yes, Patricia?"
"Can we visit with Wendy and Camille again today?"
I didn't have much in the way of plans for today. "I
don't see any reason why not, Patty."
Patty smiled at me and gave me a hug.
* * *
I had Patty drive me to her house. Unfortunately, her
mother's car wasn't in the driveway. I had hoped to be able
to "convince" Patty's mother that our relationship wasn't
something that she needed to be concerned about.
"You want to play in my room?" Patty offered.
"Nah," I said. Normally, I would rather have had the
opportunity to spend a day with Patty at the park, but it was
still raining, even if it wasn't the torrential downpour it
was earlier in the morning. "So, Patty, would you prefer to
go back to Wendy's house, or maybe meet your friends at the
mall?"
"Wendy's house," Patty answered.
"Sure she won't mind?"
Patty gave me a "let's get serious" look and didn't
bother answering vocally. She put the car into gear and
headed back toward my house.
"Where are we going? This isn't the way to Wendy's."
"Camille's," Patty answered. "Her father brought her car
to the auto shop to get a tune-up, oil change, and check-up
so she can use it for school."
"Oh," I said.
Camille actually lived pretty close to where I lived,
which made sense since she and her sister had baby sat for me
when I was younger.
"Hi, Patty! Hi, Jim!" Camille said cheerily when she
answered the door.
"Is that Patty, dear?" came a woman's voice behind her.
"Yes, Ma," Camille answered, looking behind her. "She's
with Jim, another of our friends."
Camille's mother asked, "Do they want cake?"
Camille looked at us, and Patty said quietly that we were
heading toward Wendy's. Camille turned back to answer her
mother. "Nah. They're just picking me up. I'll be back for
dinner!"
"OK, 'Milla," the mother said. "Call if you'll be late."
* * *
In the car, I looked in the back seat where Camille was
sitting. "Milla?"
Camille grinned. "My mother's side of the family calls
me that."
"Would that make me 'Jimma,' then?" I giggled.
"Very funny."
Patty looked over to me from her driving. "'Jimma,'" she
said, looking at me. "Interesting name."
I just grinned at Patty.
The rain was starting to let up as we got to Wendy's
house. Wendy's mother had already left for work.
"Hi, guys," Wendy said as she answered her door.
Patty returned the greeting. "Hi, Wendy. We figured
we'd hang out here, if you don't mind."
Wendy shrugged. "Mom wants me to do the grocery shopping
today. We need cold cuts, so I'll need to shop first before
we have lunch."
I felt some money in my back pocket. "Um, what if I
treat my friends to lunch? We could go, maybe, to Vaughn's."
Vaughn's was a combination ice cream and fast food place just
outside the mall, in a shopping center that also had a
grocery store.
Patty looked at me, curiously. "You have money for
Vaughn's?"
I smiled. "Courtesy of our favorite Princess Bitch!"
Camille and Wendy started laughing. "You didn't!" said
Wendy.
"Yup." I started singing an old Louis Prima song my
parents used to play, "Just a Gigolo..."
"My god!" Camille said. "You got her to pay you
yesterday?"
I nodded, self-satisfied. "Uh, huh!"
Patty raised an eyebrow. "You should be saving your
money, Jim. Not spending it on us."
I said, confidently, "There's more where that came from."
Patty gave me another of her looks, one that indicated
that she might be thinking that I was going to go into the
Male Prostitute business. I hadn't yet told her about my
arrangement with Kristen.
I simply shrugged off Patty's look.
Wendy looked at me admiringly. "You really are something
else, Jim."
"Are you going to keep us standing in the rain, Wendy?"
I asked.
Wendy, realizing that she was being less than the perfect
hostess, invited the three of us in.
We removed our coats and shoes in Wendy's foyer, and sat
around the living room.
"So," Wendy said, once we were all sitting comfortably.
"What's new?"
"Guess what?" Camille asked.
"What?" Patty answered.
Camille was grinning. "Guess who called me last night?"
Wendy suggested, "Jack from the soccer team?"
Camille shook her head. "Nah. Not a boy. Jackie!"
Patty said, "You mean, Jackie as in Kristen's gang?"
Camille nodded her head. "Uh, huh. She said that
Kristen stood up her and a few of her friends yesterday at
the mall. And afterward, Kristen had called her gang up,
sounding quite strange, and saying things like maybe they
could be nicer to other people."
Patty was overjoyed. "YES! She listened to me! Yeah!"
I nodded, never doubting for one minute the power of the
tickets.
Patty then looked serious. "I got a call last night. My
mom said it was a girl, but when I got on, there was nobody
there. Nobody called back, either. I figured it was a wrong
number. Maybe Kristen's gang is calling us to tell us that
they will treat us nice and whoever it was got cold feet."
Camille nodded. "Maybe. Or it could have been a wrong
number."
Wendy looked at me and said, "You said that Kristen paid
you yesterday?"
I nodded.
"May I ask how much?"
I thought about it, and finally said, "I don't think a
gentleman should answer that question."
Patty gave a weak smile at me, but still had a look of
concern. I knew that I would have to have a talk with her
later to assure her that Kristen was just a special case.
Wendy accepted my reluctance to answer, and changed the
subject. "You know who called me last night? Gerry!"
"The guy that plays the guitar?" Camille asked, eager
for juicy gossip.
Actually, I knew a guitar player named Gerry from my
experiences with the high school band (my music teacher
occasionally "loaned" me out to help out with stuff like
school musicals). He was quite talented and had a band and
everything. I didn't know Gerry's last name, so I couldn't
ask if it was the same person.
"Uh, huh," Wendy said. "Like, I've been trying to get
him to notice me for MONTHS..."
"Anybody with eyes will notice you, Wendy," Camille said.
This remark was met with laughs at Wendy's expense,
confirming to me that the girls were talking about Wendy's
large breasts.
The girls dropped into what I guess was typical female
gossip. I wasn't too interested in this, but after a few
minutes, I realized that I must have passed some sort of
milestone in my friendship. I was probably the first guy
that these girls would ever discuss such things around. I
tried to follow the conversation, but it kept jumping around.
I was feeling all too happy to be trusted like this to
interrupt them.
After about a half hour, I noticed that Patty was looking
at me occasionally. And then I noticed that she pointedly
started drawing me into their conversation, trying to get my
opinions on things.
The girls were talking about another of their classmates,
a girl named Sally. She was dating a guy that had graduated
a couple of months ago. Patty was saying, "I can't see why
Sally would think that Kevin would be faithful to her,
especially with him over three hundred miles away. What do
girls see in older guys, anyway? I kind of like them
younger."
"Younger?" asked Camille. "How about Steve? Isn't he a
hunk?"
"Brainless, mindless jock," spat Patty. "I had my fill
of them for a lifetime. I want somebody like Jim, here."
All three girls looked at me. Quickly, I protested, "I
thought you want me just as a friend, Patty."
"Not you, necessarily," Patty said. "I said, 'like you.'
I want somebody smart, mature, and definitely not a jock."
"Hey!" I said in mock protest.
Camille giggled, "Jimma Not-A-Jock. I like the sound of
that!" Patty and Camille giggled at that.
"Jimma?" asked Wendy, confused.
"Jim heard Mom call me 'Milla. And he suggested that we
call him Jimma."
"No, I didn't!" I said.
"Aww, poor Jimma!" said Patty, moving over to me. "Is
Cammie hurting your feelings?"
"Hey!" Camille said, "You're the one that said that
Jimma wasn't a jock!"
"Let's kiss and make up," Patty said, nuzzling my cheek.
"There, Jimma. Feel better now?"
Camille and Wendy both decided to get in on the action.
Wendy said, "'Jimma.' I like that." She kissed me on my
left cheek.
"Yeah, Jimma," mocked Camille, who lightly brushed Patty
aside to kiss my right cheek. "And it looks like Jimma
Junior likes the attention, huh?" Camille had her hand on my
crotch, which was starting to react to the proximity of the
three girls nuzzling me.
Camille wasn't dumb. "Aww, Jimma's little friend seems
to be all cooped up in here. Think we should let him out?"
Patty gave me a questioning look to as if to ask if I had
any of the girls under the control of my tickets. I simply
shrugged at her. I had no idea what had gotten into Camille.
Camille turned to Patty. "Well, Patty. Do we get to see
Jimma's little buddy? Or do you want to hog him all for
yourself?"
"Hog him?" Patty asked.
"Uh, huh," Wendy agreed.
Patty blushed as she realized her friends knew that the
two of us had more than a non-physical friendship.
Camille, said, "You said not Jimma, but like him. So,
he's not yours?"
Patty said, "No. I mean..." She blushed as she tried to
get the words out.
Camille and Wendy let me go.
Camille said, "Oh, pooh! Patty, we're just teasing you
and Jimma here." She went to hug her friend, and Wendy did
likewise.
I didn't want to be left out, so I went over to Patty and
hugged her as well. "All friends, right?"
"Right," Patty answered. "You're correct, Jimma
Not-A-Jock!"
I wondered how long that name would stick.
* * *
The conversation turned to other subjects, including
school classes that I wouldn't have to think about for a year
or so. I listened, but didn't memorize everything. Every
once in a while, the girls would try to bring me back into
the conversation, but I was happy to just be part of the
group, just listening.
The phone rang, doing little to interrupt the
conversation except that Wendy went into the kitchen to
answer it. Patty and Camille continued whatever they were
talking about.
Wendy came in. "Patty, it's for you."
"The phone?" Patty asked. "For me?"
"Yeah."
Patty went into the kitchen. As soon as she left, Wendy
said, quietly, to Camille and me, "It's Kristen. She sounds
weird."
"Ooh," Camille said. "Maybe the bitch really is going to
apologize to us."
Wendy shrugged. "Well, she didn't apologize to me. She
just asked for Patty."
"Huh?" Camille asked. "That IS weird."
Patty came in, looking at me with an expression that I
never her use before: disapproval. "It seems that Kristen is
asking permission for me to let her meet with Jim."
Wendy asked, "Why not ask Jim himself?"
Patty continued looking at me. "That's a good question."
I tried to look sheepish, but I was actually feeling
victorious. I had won another battle against Kristen's
bitchiness. I had made her ask Patty to arrange for my
services, but had neglected to tell Patty about it. Seeing
Patty's attitude now made me questioned the wisdom of letting
this be a surprise to her.
"I, uh..." I stammered. "Kristen seems to be addicted a
bit to me."
Wendy and Camille looked at each other in surprise.
I decided to let them all know. "She has to make
arrangements through Patty for my services. It's part of my
plan to embarrass her."
Patty shook her head. "Jim, something went wrong! She
really sounds desperate!"
Shit. Maybe I went a little too far. I didn't answer
Patty.
Patty pressed on. "She wants to come over."
I looked at the three girls, and saw that none of them
really wanted a repeat of yesterday's performance.
"Send her over," I said quietly.
"Huh?" asked Patty.
"I said, 'send her over,' Patricia," in the same quiet
voice.
"Yes, JAMES," Patty said, still disapproving, and quickly
returned back to the kitchen.
Wendy and Camille didn't understand what was going on,
but by now I think that they realized that Patty and I had
some secret code between us.
I looked at the two girls and said, "Don't worry. I'll
make things right. I had just wanted to give Kristen a
not-so-subtle reminder about yesterday. I may have gone too
far."
Wendy and Camille nodded, but didn't say anything.
Patty came out of the kitchen. "She'll be here in ten
minutes, JAMES."
I sighed and turned to the other two girls, "Could we
have a moment in private?"
The two girls nodded and silently left.
As soon as they were gone, Patty started talking to me in
hushed tones. "You know, I wouldn't mind if you did that
sort of thing to me. After all, I volunteered for that sort
of thing and I will obey you voluntarily. But you did it to
her using a ticket. Those things are powerful, JAMES. Yes,
she's a bitch, and probably deserves to be shown up, but the
voice I heard on that phone was as bad as you hear on those
television shows where you see heroin junkies!"
"I'm sorry, Patty," I said, keeping my voice low. "I may
have fucked up, but I can also fix it."
Patty looked at me, breathing heavily. This was one of
the first times that I had seen her truly angry at me. She
seemed to force herself to take longer breaths, and appeared
to be counting to herself in order to calm down.
"Yes," Patty finally said. "You can probably fix it.
But you should think before you use those things. If you
tell me that I'm addicted to your sperm, I won't go through
withdrawal symptoms. I'll just play-act that way. But if
her parents were to see or hear her in the condition she's
in now, they'd probably take her to a hospital! A HOSPITAL,
Jim!"
"I wasn't thinking," I said.
"Jim. Promise me you'll be careful with those things."
I nodded and promised. I was angry at myself for having
Patty upset with me. I don't know where the tears came from.
Big boys aren't supposed to cry. "I'm... sorry..."
"Don't beat yourself up, Jim," Patty said, quietly,
holding my head between her breasts, holding my head like a
mother would hold a crying child, which I guess is the
perfect simile.
Finally, Patty said, "What did you tell Kristen? And
what did you actually want?"
I sniffed, trying to will the tears out of my eyes. "I
wanted to humiliate her; make her have to get permission
before she could orgasm. I told her she needed to have my
sperm in her mouth to come, that she was addicted to my dick
and my sperm."
Patty nodded, which I didn't see, but rather felt.
"Well, you actually punished her more than you thought."
"Yeah," I said. moving my face within her arms, hoping
to wipe a bit of my tears off my face.
"Well," Patty said, soothingly, "let's cure her
addiction, and think about removing her need to ask
permission. That sounds a bit too kinky." I could hear
Patty chuckle a bit from my ears that were still against her
chest. I was starting to feel better.
"Can I get my bag of tickets?" I asked Patty.
"You mean, 'may I?'"
"Yes, Mother," I said, smiling weakly.
Kristen arrived a few minutes later, and she looked even
worse than Patty had described her. She was still topless,
and looked completely defeated, as if she hadn't had any
sleep since we last saw her yesterday.
"Take a ticket," I told her as soon as I got over my
shock of seeing her.
"You have one wish," Kristen said without any emotion.
"Kristen, your addiction to my sperm and any other
addiction that I may have put on you are cured."
Kristen looked at me dully for a few moments, and then
said, "Your wish is my command."
Patty looked at the girl and said, softly, "Kristen, what
the hell happened to you?"
Kristen slowly looked at me, and then at Patty. She took
a breath and said, "I didn't go home last night. I found a
phone booth that had a broken light, and I called my parents
and told them I would be out. I called a few of my
friends... I don't really remember what I told them, and I
really don't care. I didn't have a place to go where I could
be topless, and nobody would understand. I ended up parking
on a deserted street. Luckily, nobody attacked me."
I had no idea that my little game would have such
far-reaching repercussions.
Kristen closed her eyes, continuing her story. "I had
images of me sucking... sucking him in front of the three of
you... the picture that you guys took... I can't stop looking
at it... can't stop fantasizing about it."
Kristen took a deep breath. "I tried masturbating, but
what he had told me was true. I can build it almost to the
point of release, but only if I think of... his penis... and
me sucking him... but I still cannot... you know..."
I looked at Patty, who was giving me that "this is YOUR
fault" look on her face. I shook my head, wondering how I
could have fucked up so royally that Patty... my dear
Patty... was angry at me. Unbidden, I felt my eyes start to
water again.
I sighed and handed Kristen another ticket.
"You have one wish."
"Kristen, you are no longer under any compunction to
fantasize about me. And you're no longer addicted to me." I
had repeated that last wish mostly to insure that it would
work.
"Your wish is my command."
Kristen still looked like shit.
I turned to Patty, and asked her if she knew where
Kristen's blouse was from yesterday.
Patty shook her head. "I don't know. It was here when
the two of us left yesterday."
I nodded. "Could you ask Wendy if she still has it? If
not, see if you can get Wendy to lend Kristen something to
wear."
Patty still had an angry look in her eyes, but she did
what I told her.
I asked Kristen to come inside, but she was hesitant.
"This isn't Patty's house," Kristen said.
"No, it isn't."
"It's not yours, either. Is it one of the... other
girls?"
I nodded. "It's Wendy's. Her mother is at work."
Kristen just nodded, and continued to stand in front of
me, her breasts still on display. Kristen showed no modesty,
which in retrospect wasn't too surprising, since she had been
topless for over eighteen hours already.
Kristen actually had a nice body. Her breasts were a bit
larger than Patty's, and had very dark aureolae--so dark that
I almost couldn't make out her nipples.
The defeated girl noticed my attention to her breasts,
but still didn't hide them from me.
The two of us continued to stand awkwardly in Wendy's
foyer. I started to say a few things, but really couldn't
think of what to say. Finally, I said, "I'm sorry, Kristen."
Kristen didn't answer, but shrugged. She stared at me
with a blank look on her face that I couldn't decipher.
After about a minute, Kristen burst out crying, and I
instinctively moved closer to her, and she put her arms
around my back and rested her head on my chest.
This mirrored the scene that I had with Patty a few
minutes ago, and I did what Patty did, and simply pat Kristen
on the head. I wanted to comfort the girl, but I didn't want
to scare her; I was the one that had put her through hell.
Patty came back with Kristen's blouse and bra, and
stopped when she saw the two of us.
My attention was on Kristen, and I didn't notice Patty's
arrival. "I'm really sorry," I said quietly to Kristen.
Kristen's response was to burst out in a fresh round of
tears.
This was a totally alien experience to me.
I looked around, and was surprised to see Patty standing
there, looking at me. She still had a look of concern on her
face, and I was grateful that it wasn't the look of anger
that she had before.
None of us said anything more for about five minutes.
Kristen finally cried herself out, and looked up. She
seemed surprised that I was holding her, but she didn't push
away. She finally spoke, "Why?"
Why? That was a good fucking question. I had been
asking myself that same question for about ten minutes, ever
since I heard Patty tell me that my little game yesterday had
had gone awry.
I shook my head, "I don't know, Kristen. I really don't
know. I've been wracking my brain trying to make sense of
it."
"But why?" Kristen persisted. "Why me?"
That was an easier question to answer. "Because you are
a bitch. And you turned a good friend of mine against me. I
was angry at you and wanted to teach you a lesson."
Kristen looked as if she had been slapped. Her mouth was
open, and her eyes looked at me questioningly. "I? I turned
your friend against you? I don't even know you!"
I sighed, and said, "Patrice. She was a friend of mine
until she started hanging out with you. Now she calls me a
pathetic loser."
Kristen looked confused. "I never told her to do
anything like that!" She shook her head, and continued
crying.
I looked to Patty for support. She was still standing
there, watching the two of us, and saw me look at her. Patty
said, "Maybe if we go into the living room..."
"NO!" Kristen shouted through her tears. I felt her
arms go rigid over my shoulders.
"What's wrong?" asked Patty.
"That's where... you know..."
"Oh," I said, softly.
Kristen turned to Patty, and noticed that she had her
blouse. Kristen cleared her throat and then said, "May I
have my clothes back, please?"
"Sure," answered Patty, bringing them over.
Kristen broke our embrace and took the items from Patty.
She methodically put on her bra, and then her blouse, not
showing any indication of embarrassment about dressing in
front of two strangers.
"I... I need to get going..." Kristen stammered.
"Wait," I said. "Kristen, I'm really, really sorry. I
didn't know the consequences of what I had done to you. That
was never my intention."
Kristen sniffed and looked me in the eyes. I was
expecting the girl to tell me to go to hell, but she didn't.
She just continued to look at me.
"I'm sorry, too," Patty added.
Kristen looked at Patty, and then back at me.
Finally, Kristen sighed and said, "I don't know. Last
night was a living hell. And this morning, I had to call all
around to find out where Patty lives... I didn't even know
her last name! And then, when I call, her mother gave me the
phone number here. I felt... I felt like I was losing my
mind."
"I'm really, really sorry," I repeated, not knowing what
else to say. Kristen was still standing close to me, and I
instinctively hugged her again. I felt her body stiffen, but
eventually, her muscles relaxed, and she was crying on my
shoulder again.
It occurred to me at that point that perhaps a ticket
would make Kristen forget about what happened, but something
inside me realized that this was one fuck up that I would
have to handle myself.
I looked at Patty, who simply shrugged at me.
"Did you eat anything since you left yesterday?" I asked
her, softly.
"Eat? Without wearing clothes? Are you kidding?"
I nodded. "I was going to take Patty and the girls to
Vaughn's. Would you please come with us? I want to make up
for what I did to you."
Kristen started shaking her head no, but then stopped.
She just stood there.
Finally, she looked up, her face inches from mine. "You
want me... to have lunch with you... and your friends?"
I nodded. "Yes. Could we please be friends? I'm really
sorry..."
Kristen still had tears in her eyes. She turned her head
back onto my shoulder and started crying again.
I gave Patty a look that said, "What did I do now?"
Patty motioned to me to continue holding Kristen, and I
did.
Kristen's face was buried in my arms, and I heard her
stammer, "You want me... to be your friend?"
I nodded, knowing that Kristen couldn't see me, but could
feel the motion.
Kristen sighed. "I'll... I'll go with you. But could I
go to the bathroom? I need to get freshened up."
Patty offered to take Kristen, and Kristen accepted.
I stood alone in the foyer, my mind going over what had
happened. I had fucked up, big time. Patty thought that I
was horrible. And God knows what Wendy and Camille thought
about me.
I found the other two girls in the kitchen, and they were
talking quietly between themselves.
Camille saw me and said, "You look like shit."
"Thanks," I said soberly.
Wendy added, "How's Kristen doing? Did she leave? I
didn't hear her car."
"She's in the bathroom with Patty, getting cleaned up," I
explained.
Camille nodded and said, "You should do the same.
There's a bathroom back here."
"Yeah," I said, not caring that I looked like shit. I
sure as hell felt like shit.
"What happened to Kristen?" Wendy asked. "Patty wasn't
too specific."
I sighed once again. "I fucked up. I gave her an order
yesterday that had terrible consequences. I wouldn't blame
Patty or Kristen if they never spoke to me again."
Camille's eyes went wide. "Patty? Never see you again?
Are you fuckin' nuts? She'd never do that to you!"
"Huh?" I asked. Camille hadn't seen the look of anger
in Patty's eyes.
"Patty adores you," Camille said. "She spends all her
time with you. You're all she talks about. So you fucked
up. You're fuckin' human, goddammit!"
"Well, news flash: Patty hates me," I said, not wanting
to listen to Camille.
Camille just shook her head. I looked at Wendy, who did
the same.
I sighed. For older and supposedly smarter girls, they
sure were difficult to talk to.
Wendy told me where the bathroom in the back was, and I
went in. I didn't recognize the face that looked at me in
the mirror. Did I look that bad? I almost looked worse than
Kristen had, if that was possible.
DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! I had almost fucked up a girl's
life, and now the one special girl in my life was totally
angry with me.
I sat on the toilet and cried.
I don't know how long I sat there. I was thinking of all
the adjectives that described how despicable I was. I had
probably figured out more than ever appeared in Roget,
especially since they didn't put slang or four-letter words
in that book.
I heard a knock at the door.
"Go away," my voice croaked.
The door opened anyway, and Patty walked in.
Patty was the last person that I wanted to see right now.
I didn't need to feel any more guilt. I had more than I
could handle at the present.
I turned away from Patty, and continued my list of
adjectives. I wondered if "execrable" was a real word, or
was it "excremental..." or was that just another word for
"shitty?"
"Jim," I heard Patty say through the fog of my brain.
"Don't go killing yourself over this."
"Leave me alone," I wailed, tears freely flowing down my
face.
Patty sighed and slapped me in the face. I was stunned.
"Get a fucking hold of yourself, Jim!"
I put my hand to my cheek, which was burning. Patty had
slapped me! I knew she was angry, but she was angry enough
to beat me up!
I just looked down at my knees. I had lost the best
thing that had happened to me since I had found those fucking
tickets. I actually hadn't considered killing myself until
Patty mentioned it. I wondered if there were any razors in
the bathroom that I could cut my wrists with.
"JIM! LOOK AT ME!"
"What?" I asked. "You don't need to tell me how
revolting, repulsive, detestable I am..."
"JIM! I SAID LOOK AT ME!"
I refused to look at Patty. My mind fell in love with
the word "detestable" and I idly wondered the etymology of
that word. Did it have anything to do with the word "test?"
Once again, I was shocked by another slap in the face,
this time to the other cheek.
"OW!" I cried, looking up at Patty.
"I'm not angry with you... Jimma."
Jimma? I thought back, and realized that this was the
three girls' "friend" name for me. I wondered what kind of
sick trick Patty was attempting to pull.
"Jim!" Patty said. "I said, 'I'm not angry with you!'"
I waited for the other shoe to drop.
"Jim... Jimma..." Patty said, trying to get through the
black cloud in my brain.
I wondered what had been going on outside this bathroom,
and I said, aloud, "Did Kristen leave? God, I hate myself!
'Detestable.' That's the word that describes me. Detestable."
"Stop it, Jim," Patty ordered. "Kristen's still here.
You invited her to Vaughn's, remember?"
Vaughn's? I remembered asking the girls. Had I asked
Kristen? Why would I? The poor girl must hate my pathetic
and detestable guts.
"Jim... Vaughn's. You invited us, and then you invited
Kristen. Kristen accepted. Don't you remember?"
Had I? I tried to remember being in the foyer, but my
mind was focused on trying to work out a topper for
"pathetic."
"Jim!" Patty said. She sighed, realizing that she was
getting nowhere. "Jim... I love you."
Somehow, through the mists of my mind, those four words
echoed and echoed, finding their way to me on my deserted
island with a million copies of Roget's Thesaurus.
Patty loves me? But she hates me! The two can't
possibly coexist.
I looked up, and saw Patty for the first time. I didn't
see anger in her eyes. I saw concern.
Patty was concerned about me?
"You're back," Patty said, seeing some spark of life come
back to my eyes.
"Yeah. You must hate me," I said sourly.
"I love you," Patty answered. "I was angry at you, but
you sort of made things right. I'm proud of what you did in
the foyer. That girl needed somebody to hold her, and you
did. You treated her as a friend."
"I did?" I asked, totally confused.
Patty nodded. "Kristen's in a weird place right now. If
she had gone any longer, she might have had a mental
breakdown. She's fragile, but she's a strong willed girl.
You have to admit that."
"I'm glad she's strong," I said, still feeling angry at
myself.
Patty continued, "She's strong, but she needed somebody
to hold her. You were that somebody. You invited her to
Vaughn's."
My mind was still full of raw emotions. I never realized
the depth of the bond between Patty and me.
"Jim... Kristen's starving. You invited us all to
Vaughn's. I love you. Doesn't any of this make sense to
you?"
I looked at Patty, and did see love in her face. I got
up off the toilet seat and fell into her arms. I cried like
a baby.
Patty kissed me, and brought me to the sink. She wet a
washcloth and tried to make me look presentable. It was a
chore; my eyes were red from crying, and both cheeks were red
and bore Patty's hand prints.
Finally, Patty got me as clean as she could get me, and
said, "Come on. We're going out. You're driving with me."
We exited the bathroom, and went back into the kitchen.
"Where are the girls?" I asked Patty.
"They went ahead to Vaughn's," Patty said. "We're to
meet them."
I nodded.
In the foyer, I was surprised to see Kristen there. She
had a look of confusion on her face, but also one of
apprehension.
I couldn't think of what to say to Kristen. And then,
unbidden, I said, "Please forgive me, Kristen."
Kristen just nodded.
"C'mon," said Patty. "I need to get the two of you to
the restaurant."
Kristen sat between Patty and I in Patty's car. After
seeing Kristen get into the passenger side, I started to move
to the back door, but Patty gave me a look that indicated
that I should sit next to Kristen. I obeyed. Kristen looked
a bit nervous, but simply moved into the center of the bench
seat.
We drove in silence, and Patty eventually pulled into
Vaughn's parking lot. Patty got out of the car, and as I
started to get out, I felt Kristen touch my arm. I stopped.
"I forgive you," Kristen said, quietly. "But I don't
think I'll ever forget this experience."
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