The Time Until

by Casey Ford

  “I’m sure you don’t,” she plays along, “So, I’m just imagining you ogling Sam’s swimsuit over there?”

  I have to admit Sam looks good in that suit. It’s mostly strings, but the important parts are completely covered. Beads dangle from the knots on her waist holding her bottoms on. I want to see what happens when I pull on them. The top is held on by a string around her neck and one around her back. It’s brown and matches her hair color very well. She looks great. She recently cut her hair; it’s short — to her shoulders — and curled to frame her face. I liked her long hair, but this cut makes my heart do funny things in my chest.

  Okay, so maybe I have been paying a bit more attention to Sam than Kate.

  But it’s not like I’ve been neglecting Kate completely.

  Kate has a bit more to offer in the chest area than Sam does. She has a good fitting suit and her cleavage is visible, but not trashy. Just like Sam, Kate’s bikini covers her important parts well and leaves a lot to the imagination — and my imagination is in overdrive. There are no beads or tassels on her strings, but there is a small sun pendant attached to the front of her bottoms. It flaps around when she moves and forces me to focus on that area of her body.

  It’s not that I really need a reason to stare at her or anything.

  “Just remember that you’re dating Kate not Sam,” Arianna informs me. I know exactly what she’s saying. Sam doesn’t want me and I need to start thinking more seriously about moving on with my life.

  Katelyn is more than willing and able to fill that role.

  “It’s not like I’m not trying, Ari,” I tell her truthfully, “it’s just really hard.”

  Arianna nods her head in agreement. I look away from the subjects of our conversation and gently grip her shoulder.

  “I’ll make a better effort from now on.” She smiles a sad smile.

  “But seriously, I knew that Quentin was rolling, but I never guessed this.” I did spend the first 30 minutes of getting to the house admiring the architecture — Roman inspired. The house could fit two of my parents’ house and still have room for a two-car garage. The inside was equally impressive, though too white for me. The initial shock wore off by the time I made it to the backyard, but the size of the pool definitely reminded me of it.

  “Never ceases to amaze me every time I come here,” Arianna agrees. There’s a slight hint of pride in her voice, but I ignore it as part of my imagination. Giving a short nod at the comment, I crack an inward smile as I walk in to the house to raid the kitchen.

  As expected of Quentin, he has a full fridge. The last person in the kitchen with me leaves, giggling, as I pull out the milk and raw cookie dough — nothing beats a glass of milk and raw cookie dough on a hot summer day. I nearly jump out of my skin as arms encircle my waist and barely covered breasts squish against my back. I know whom it is without having to turn around.

  I would remember Kate’s smell anywhere.

  “What are you doing?” she asks my back.

  “Would you believe trying to hide from the sun?”

  “Actually? Yes, I would,” she laughs out. I turn to face her and wrap my arms around her. We stay like this for a few minutes as I try to sort out my feelings. I know I should say something, but I can’t seem to think of the words. I chance a look into her eyes and she seems to understand my struggle.

  At least I think so.

  “Kate,” I start, but don’t finish. What was I going to say? ‘I love you’? It doesn’t feel right to say it to her, I still feel awkward even thinking about it about someone other than Sam.

  I make a decision, right or wrong.

  Can Kate be the one to help me get over Sam? There’s only one way to find out.

  I drop my head down to connect our mouths and force Kate’s body closer to mine. It starts out slow and sensual, but quickly gains speed and intensity. It doesn’t take long for our tongues to start dancing with each other.

  I’m suddenly very aware of my hands position.

  The nervousness washes over me in waves. My hand on her back slowly — nervously — moves down her back too cup her perfect cheeks. Her ass is firm, but giving and the mix of hard and soft makes my heart start to beat faster. Kate’s gentle moan sends it into overdrive.

  I decide to go bolder. I slowly glide my hand up Kate’s side and gently start kneading her breast. Her breasts are bigger then Sam’s, but Sam’s fit my hand better.

  I need to stop that train of thought right now.

  We’ve done this a few times since February, but the lack of clothes — and the inclusion of the thin material of the swimsuit — makes this time more intense. My nervousness is gradually starting to fade as we continue our kitchen romp. Also, the fact that she hasn’t stopped me yet is starting to bolster my confidence.

  That and my libido is seriously going crazy.

  “Alan,” she breathes and the sound of it sends shivers down my spine, “more.”

  Now I’m definitely going to oblige that request. All nervousness is gone as I slip my hand under her swimsuit top and start pinching her nipple. She bites back a cry as she arches her back. I love doing that; it makes me feel powerful — needed. Kate’s breathing starts to come out in huffs and puffs, labored and harsh. I start kissing her collarbone, taking advantage of her position. She grabs my head as she groans and I take that as good sign.

  I place both my hands on her back to better support her as I casually use my head to force her back to arch further, providing the perfect position to introduce her breast to my mouth. Using my teeth to knead her nipple through the cloth, I can feel her hands grip my head harder; a soft gasp escapes her mouth.

  I slip one of my hands around her front and slowly move it down. Her eyes flutter as my fingers whisper across her stomach and playfully wiggle the sun pendant on her bottoms. My mouth never stops playing with her breast and now my hand is making a play for her nether region. Using one finger as a guide, I slowly move lower along her waist until I find her natural slit to follow.

  I enjoy stroking her over the cloth and the seductive way she wiggles into my hand. Her head throws back as she lets out a loud moan. I slowly stop my teasing of her breasts as I go back to fighting her tongue with mine. My fingers inch their way under her waistband and touch soft, wet flesh underneath.

  I feel around for moment or two until I finally find what I’m looking for, the hard little knob at the top of her entrance. I pinch it softly before rubbing it smoothly across my thumb repeatedly. Kate bucks her hips with each stroke and her breathing gets heavy. She clenches her eyes shut and stops kissing me as she focuses on keeping control of herself. I smile despite myself as I feel her nails dig into my back and shoulder.

  Suddenly my hand gets even wetter as Kate shakes violently with a final powerful buck of her hips. I catch her before she falls to the tile below, her legs have given out on her and her breath is shallow. She has a funny looking — satisfied — grin on her face and she’s giggling uncontrollably. I can’t help myself and start giggling with her.

  Despite that, I can’t help remembering Sam’s satisfied face and comparing the two. I mentally shake the thought from my mind and try to focus on Kate.

  “You like that?” I ask her. She nods enthusiastically pulling my head closer to hers.

  “Next time it’s your turn,” she whispers to me between breathes. A shot of anticipation runs through my body. Her promise of future pleasure is enough to make me feel warm all over despite the air conditioner keeping the house cool.

  “Can that be right now?” I ask with a half-smile. Kate smiles back with her eyes closed as she slowly regains her breath. She pulls my mouth to hers and sweetly kisses me.

  “Sorry, babe, gotta wait until next time,” she tells me as she shakes her head, “but I promise it’ll definitely be worth the wait.”

  Suddenly, ‘later’ can’t be here fast enough.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Present Day

  This courtroom is crowded and I
have already elbowed three people in order to keep my spot against the wall in the back. Apparently, they mean it when they say, “Get there early.” Ethan and Quentin showed up just as we were leaving and that caused a little delay. Though I’m not mad at them for it; in fact, I’m actually glad they came. I’m definitely going to need the support. Unfortunately, we’ve been here nearly three hours and they still haven’t gotten to the case I’m most interested in seeing. My legs are cramping up and my patience is starting to run thin.

  I can feel the irritability growing as I wait.

  After a long time, my people watching starts to pick up certain things about the legal process — or lack thereof — taking place in this room. The entire room is separated into an ‘us’ vs. ‘them’ mentality by way of a small fence that keeps the audience and victims from the lawyers and guilty. The defense lawyers run around and play games with the prosecutors in order to try to get the lowest sentence for their client they can, while the prosecutors try for the highest punishment they can. There’s a lot of back and forth deal making, swindling, and finagling before they finally agree on something.

  It’s a lot like I imagine Wall Street being.

  “People vs. Jeremy Stanton. Reckless driving with grievous injury,” The judge finally announces to the room. My ears immediately perk up and I start searching for the guy.

  I see a tall lanky man slowly stand up with a lawyer next to him. That has to be him — I can even picture in the cab of the truck just before it hits us. He’s wearing proper clothes, so I assume he’s out on bail. A little girl — no more than five-years-old — is hanging off his leg and a posse stands behind him. He doesn’t look more than 40 or so, but he sure had a busy time — something like four kids ages five to late teens. I think that makes me hate him even more.

  Trying to use the sympathy vote to get out of what he did.

  It makes me want to spit bile just thinking about it.

  “Mr. Stanton,” the judge continues, “how do you plea?”

  Stanton leans over to whisper to his lawyer, nods his head a few times and then looks at the judge.

  “No contest, your honor,” he states.

  Of the three choices he had — guilty, no contest, and not guilty — no contest is like the agnostic of pleas. You’re admitting only the barest of minimums of guilt for the offense you you’re pleading to have done.

  That is all of the guilt, none of the consequences.

  It makes me instantly angry. It means I can’t sue him for anything that might come from a guilty plea. I can’t seek compensation from him for medical bills, property damages, etc.

  I’m basically left without a foot to stand on and he gets off scot-free when his sentence is finished.

  The judge nods his head in acknowledgement and reads the rest of the verdict.

  “Very well. The defendant has plead no contest to the charges. The sentence will be six months in county jail, to be served immediately.” My jaw hits the floor. Six months? Are they kidding?! I groan loudly and several people turn to look at me.

  “You will also have a period of three years on probation to begin following the completion of your incarceration. You have a $1,000 fine, to be paid before your probation is completed. Finally, your driver’s license will be suspended until successful completion of this sentence.”

  “Do you understand this ruling as I have explained it to you?”

  “Yes, your honor.”

  I’m pissed now.

  “This is bullshit!” I can’t stop myself from speaking. Ethan and Quentin move closer to me — either to help me if things got out of hand or to prevent me from making things get out of hand. Every head in the room turns toward me.

  I add their stares to my anger.

  “Excuse me,” the judge asks. I stare right at Stanton.

  “This guy falls asleep at the wheel and smashes into my car and what does he get as punishment? Nothing!” I give up on controlling my anger as I did in the hospital. This man wrecked my life and destroyed Sam. There is no way I’m leaving without at least a little of his hide in my teeth.

  “I lose my scholarship to a good college because I have no left eye because of him! Sam, my best friend, is in a coma and lost her legs, because of HIM! I can’t play soccer anymore, something I love, because OF HIM! I have pins and bolts in my arm because OF HIM! She will never run again, something she loves to do, BECAUSE OF HIM! And all he gets is a fucking slap on the wrist and a ‘don’t do it again’!? That’s fucking bullshit!”

  The entire room is silent and I can see that there are more sheriffs now than there were before. Apparently, yelling in the courtroom is cause for alarm. The judge is calm and collected as he let me tirade. Stanton looks devastated, which makes me feel even angrier. He has no right to pity us.

  None!

  Nate has a proud look on his face while Mary is surprised. My dad and mom seem equally surprised, but Jenn is smiling like it’s the funniest thing in the world that everyone is so shocked. Ethan and Quentin take another step closer to me. My anger is overflowing and I do not intend to try to stop it.

  Everyone can burn in my flames for all I care.

  “This asshole—” I jab my finger at Stanton to make my point, “destroyed not just one, but two lives that night! But no one seems to care about that!” I take a step closer to Stanton and he recoils a bit, placing his daughter behind him in order to protect her from me. My rage explodes in my chest and I growl angrily.

  Ethan and Quentin each grab an arm as I try to make a break for Stanton. I’m so lost in the red of rage I can barely hear what I’m yelling. I struggle against my two friends as they pull me from the room and into the parking lot. A couple of sheriffs follow us out in order to help if needed. They follow me with their eyes as I pace through the parked cars. Ethan and Quentin stand in close proximity to prevent me from entering the courthouse again.

  “I think we should go out tonight,” Ethan announces after my tenth lap around the cars, “I think you need to blow off some steam.” I stop pacing and look at him for a minute, shocked. I think it’s not the best idea — all I want to do is fume in silence — but maybe a night out would do me good.

  I slowly nod my head.

  We start walking back to the car as Quentin texts Nate and my dad about what we’re doing. I know exactly why he said that, but I’m slowly coming back to my senses now. The red is fading, but a clear picture of Stanton with his family causes the rage to flare up again. One minute I'm walking by a cement wall and the next a single memory is turned into an uncontrollable jolt through my arm.

  It’s almost on reflex, like an involuntary spasm.

  My fist smashes into the concrete and the pain instantly clears my head. I’m still fuming to the point that acknowledging the pain is not an option, but not angry enough to disregard the pain altogether.

  “Feel better?” Quentin asks through his bright smile. Ugh. My rage fizzles even more at the playful tone of his voice. Ethan is grinning behind him. I roll my eyes.

  “Shut up,” I tell Quentin, then look at Ethan and his stupid grin, “And you! Wipe that shit off your face, you look like an idiot.” I can’t stop the smallest of smiles from crossing my face as I see Ethan’s grin grow exponentially. We finish walking to the car.

  I don’t even have to tell them where I want to go next.

  I walk into Sam’s room just as the nurse is emptying Sam’s dialysis bag. The sight of her piss in a bag turns me off. I know she can’t help it, but I can’t help myself. It’s disgusting.

  Sam wouldn’t have had that thought; she’s always been the better one of us.

  “Just give me a minute, love,” the nurse tells me as she starts to clean up around the bag, “I’ll be out of your hair in no time at all.” I nod slightly as I slide a chair to Sam’s open side.

  “She’s a lovely girl,” she notices while looking at her face. I gently take Sam’s hand into mine.

  “Yes. Yes, she is.” I stare at Sam’s face for a mom
ent or two before the nurse turns to leave.

  “I’ll give you some time to yourselves, but, unfortunately, I have to kick you out a little later for her physical therapy,” the nurse tells me over her shoulder. I nod my head. I softly stroke the back of Sam’s hand as I silently contemplate everything that’s been happen so far. I remember the doctor saying that talking to her is good and sometimes it even helps in the recovery process.

  “Hey, Sammy,” I start to say, but quickly pause in order to swallow the lump in my throat, “I don’t know what to say.” I stop rubbing her hand as I try to figure out where to begin. I’ve never had to explain things like this to her before, she’s always just been there. She was always in the middle of everything.

  She was the one always explaining things.

  I run a hand through my hair in frustration. This is harder than I thought it was going to be, in more ways than one. I’m still not used to having Sam bed-ridden like this. It does weird things to me seeing her like this.

  I let out a huff of air.

  “I got released yesterday. The nurses chipped in to get me an eye patch… oh yeah, I forgot to tell you about that. My left eye has been damaged beyond repair. I can’t play soccer anymore, driving is out of the question and I have no idea what’s going to happen with the scholarships.” My voice catches on the lump that’s forming on my throat.

  “Jesus, Sammy, I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved having us go to the same college. I wish I could have changed things so that this didn’t happen.” I pause to catch my breath a bit.

  “I’m going to miss soccer. You know how much I love soccer.” I cup her hand in mine and place her palm on my cheek. I wish she would respond to me, but nothing happens and I reluctantly continue my story as my eye start to sting.

  “Anyway, the patch has this cupid’s arrow going through a heart and it’s all bloody on the other end. I love it.” I chuckle absently in thought. “Apparently I made an impression on the nurses. I nearly killed myself trying to get to you that first night. Took one step out of bed and fell to the floor. I was constantly asking about you until they finally agreed to let me see you.” A slow sigh before continuing.