by Lisa Loomis
I don’t know if Mike figured out what had gone on, but it was a quiet, uncomfortable ride home. I looked out the window into the night, watching the streetlights pass. Kevin held my hand, like it was what he should do. I wondered what Mathew was doing. Kevin walked me to the door.
“Morgan, I had a really good time. Can I see you again?” he asked.
I didn’t feel the connection and I guessed he was being polite more than really feeling it too.
“It was fun. We’ll see how things go,” I answered.
It wasn’t very late when I got home, but I was tired. The day in the sun, the beer, the emotion with Mathew, the emotion with Kevin, was all weighing on me.
“Mathew called,” my mom said. “He asked you to call him no matter what time you got home.”
“I’ll call him tomorrow,” I said as I headed up the stairs to my room.
Chapter 26
Kevin wouldn’t brag to Mathew, in fact he wouldn’t say a word about us to anyone. He told me it was between us and I appreciated that our one time together wasn’t spread all over school. As close as he and Mathew were though I figured he would at least share it with him, hoped he would, but he’d kept his word. I would be the one to throw it in Mathew’s face after a severe bout of teasing from him one evening in his room. My little virgin he joked as our conversation graduated again to sex.
“Has Kevin said anything to you about the day of the pool party?” I asked. “Anything about after we left?”
He looked at me puzzled. I kept quiet as I watched the wheels turn. His lips grew tight, almost as if he was hiding a frown.
“You and Kevin?” he asked.
He waited for me to respond. The way his eyes searched mine sent a chill down my spin.
“No?” he whispered.
I didn’t answer, which answered him. I couldn’t tell if it was relief or hurt I saw in his eyes. Suddenly I felt guilty and looked away. I waited for him to say something, or tease me. Instead he picked up his guitar and started to play. He started with “Wild Horses” then stopped. “I know it’s your fav,” I heard him say. He started again with Styx's “Fooling Yourself”. He didn’t sing. I heard the words in my head. I knew this was his way of losing himself.
I assumed my place on his bed, listening. I wondered what he was thinking. Was he mad? How could he be mad? Had he not had every opportunity to be with me? To be the one I really wanted? He finally put the guitar down.
“Morgan,” he started and paused.
He seemed at a loss as to what to say. I opened my arms in invitation. He came to me on the bed. He laid his head in my lap, and I stroked his hair back from his face. Oh, Mathew, it should have been you.
“Where did you go when you left here?” he asked.
“To his house,” I answered.
“Were his parents home?” he asked absently.
“No, just Mike. He drove me home.”
I played with his hair; running thick bunches of it through my fingers gently.
“How’s practice been going with the band?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
“Good. We’re writing more of our own stuff.”
“What do you write about?” I asked.
“Life, girls, feelings,” he paused, “lyrics tell a story you know. Do you listen to the lyrics when you hear a song?”
I thought about it a minute.
“I think I listen. I’ve never looked at it closely like that.”
He rolled over onto his back and pulled me around on top of him. He framed my face with his hands. His eyes searched mine.
“What?” I asked.
He wanted something. I waited. I wasn’t going to help him. Whatever his feelings were about my news he was going to have to find the words.
“Are you seeing him now?” he asked.
“Would it matter?”
“Depends.”
I took a deep breath.
“I can’t even pretend to understand you,” I said, starting to pull away.
He pulled my face to his and kissed me. I could feel his desire. I could feel the fire between us. There it is; how do you do that to me? Why couldn’t Kevin? He rolled me to the side as he continued to kiss me, his tongue gently probing, circling mine. Sliding a hand under my shirt he cupped my breast over my bra. I reached around and un-hooked it allowing him to feel, skin to skin. He squeezed and then tugged at my hard nipple and I could feel between my legs go wet with desire.
“Oh, Mathew,” I moaned.
He moved lower and unbuttoned my jeans and pulled the zipper down slowly. I writhed in anticipation. I looked into his face as he slid his hand inside my pants. His fingers reached my pubic hair and then continued further. He pressed them on my clitoris and then rolled them from side to side. I closed my eyes, concentrating not to orgasm. I gave a brief thought to our moms having cocktails by the pool and then it raced out of my mind.
Mathew started kissing me again as his fingers pushed inside of me. I moaned softly, as he moved two fingers in and out of me, in and out, circling, probing, making me wetter and wetter. I moved my body in rhythm with his hand. In my mouth his tongue was searching and teasing.
“Ahh,” I gasped softly.
This sound of pleasure made him increase his tempo. Pushing his fingers into me harder and faster. I wanted him so badly. I knew what an orgasm felt like; I’d had plenty of them on my own, thinking about Mathew. Hell, he could almost get me to orgasm just by kissing me. I reached down and felt his hardness through his jeans. I wished we could strip naked and have sex, but knew it was way too risky. I pushed my body into his as his fingers worked a magic I’d never known. He seemed to know exactly how to take me up the hill to the peak, ultimately sending me off the cliff.
“Mathew,” I whispered as my body arched in a teeth clenching orgasm and then relaxed.
The feeling was intense, so much more than I ever thought possible. What Kevin was unable to do with the actual act, Mathew accomplished easily with just his fingers. I opened my eyes slowly, embarrassed.
“Did it feel like that?” he asked, kissing me softly.
My brain was trying to catch up, my body still tingling. He meant Kevin I realized.
“No. Nothing like that,” I said, doing up my jeans.
“Good,” he said, pleased with himself.
For a reason I couldn’t understand, the knowledge of Kevin seemed to open a door for him.
My dad lost his job that summer. Several months went by until he found a new one, in San Diego. At first he commuted between his job and home. He would be gone for weeks at a time, and I could feel the tension between my parents. They fought a lot. Surprisingly, mom and I actually started getting along.
Then she caught Gayle and me smoking pot one night in my backyard. Where I thought I would catch hell, it brought us closer. She started talking to me like an adult instead of a kid. It was finally disclosed to Pat and me that a move was no doubt coming. My dad wanted to make sure the job would work out before he moved us. I felt like my world was coming apart.
“Can you believe this, Mathew?” I asked for probably the hundredth time.
“I know. Been there, remember how upset I was?”
I recalled discussions, but he also wasn’t having to move hundreds of miles away. He was still in San Jose, still able to see his old friends pretty easily.
“You talked about it, but you didn’t seem that upset,” I said.
“I was. Mad as hell in fact.”
“It seemed like such an easy transition to me,” I said.
“It wasn’t.”
I thought about how easily he had fit in at school, somehow I didn’t think it would be the same for me.
“I feel sad. Mad hasn’t hit.”
“Just don’t cry, okay?” he said as he listened, tuning his guitar.
I’d done that to him more than once recently. He wasn’t good at knowing how to comfort me, except by a kiss when I got emotional.
“I keep thinking th
is can’t really be happening. Not now.”
Kim and Mathew had broken up right before school started. Neither of us was dating anyone, but we weren’t officially dating each other either. He was busy with the band. It had become the new girlfriend. Football, along with most sports, was becoming less and less important to him. Everything was changing. It frustrated Gayle that, with the door wide open, Mathew and I didn’t become a couple. I stupidly couldn’t answer her questions.
Over Thanksgiving, my parents were off to house hunt in San Diego, even though our house needed to sell before we could move. The market was slow, and I hoped it would stay that way. Meanwhile, Pat and I were staying at the O’Conner’s. Brad and Ann were also going to be out of town, so Mathew and I were to be in charge for three days.
“Party central,” Mathew said.
“Mathew, don’t let it get it too far out there,” I said. “They obviously think we can be responsible.”
This arrangement did not go down well with Pat, Sam, or Sara, but their complaints went unheard. Mathew turned Thanksgiving dinner into a freak fest, inviting several friends over to drop acid.
“Come on, Morgan,” he said as they licked blue stars off a piece of paper.
It looked pretty harmless, but I had heard about kids tripping. Seeing colors, and lines in the air, and shit; I had no desire to hallucinate.
“I don’t want to,” I said.
“Come on,” he said, waving it at me. “Don’t be a baby.”
I didn’t care if they all thought I was chicken, I was.
“No. I’m fine with cocktails. You guys do it.”
Mathew planned for us to cook dinner as a group. Once the acid kicked in for them, I felt as though I was on acid. They said they saw colors and talked about nothing that made any sense. They tried to help cook, and they got down and watched the floor breathe. They would laugh at things that I apparently couldn’t see.
Dinner was a disaster. The turkey was raw, as they hadn’t turned on the oven to the right temperature. The mashed potatoes, from a box, had too much water and turned out like soup. I gave up. I told Pat and them to eat cereal. I cleaned up the kitchen while Mathew and his friends tripped. I went to bed in the guest room, locking the door. I didn’t want crazy people waking me up. I slept fitfully as the party raged into the wee hours.
It was quiet when I woke up and I lay in bed listening for any sign of sound before I got up. I walked out to the kitchen to survey. It was a disaster, as was the family room. There were beer cans and glasses all over the place, ashtrays with cigarette butts and ends of joints. I quietly cleaned up and made some coffee. Man, if that’s what acid did to you, no thank you. I sat at the kitchen counter and called Gayle.
“Wow, Morgan,” she said when I had told her the story.
“I know. Pat, Sara, and Sam didn’t understand why they were so stupid. They’ve been pissed about the whole deal anyway. They stayed far removed, at the other end of the house.”
I chuckled about Mathew and his friends being so out there. Crazies.
“It was sort of funny to watch. This will be a Thanksgiving I won’t ever forget.”
“You sleep with him?” she asked.
“No. He was more into partying than anything.”
I’d been disappointed he’d preferred a party than to us hanging.
“Where is he now?”
“Sleeping, I guess,” I said. “I haven’t seen him yet this morning. Haven’t seen anyone. He’s having another party tonight. Come hang with me please. I need someone normal; you can spend the night,” I pleaded.
“If I have to watch people watch the floor breathe, I’ll lose it.”
She hesitated. Gayle didn’t much like big parties, she drank, but she wasn’t a big drinker, and she hated it when people got out of control.
“Please? We can get drunk together, ignore the rest,” I begged.
“Okay, but I’m locking myself in your room if it gets out of hand.”
When I hung up, I walked down the hall to Mathew’s room. Jack, one of his band mates, was in his bed. Both Sam's and Sara’s doors were closed. When I went to the master bedroom, Mathew was on his stomach, spread diagonally across the bed with his clothes still on. He looked peaceful, and I turned to leave.
“Morgan,” he mumbled, not moving. “Is the house a wreck?”
“The wreck you left, I’ve cleaned up already. How do you feel?” I asked, sitting on the bed.
“Pretty foggy,” he said, not moving.
“I would think. You guys were so out there.”
The room smelled of stale beer mixed with the slight smell of him. A small stream of light filtered through the middle of the heavy curtains and splashed across the end of the bed.
“Sorry dinner was a bust.”
“Not your typical Thanksgiving for sure,” I laughed. “I invited Gayle to come tonight. Same crowd coming? I hope not.”
“Naw, just the band guys,” he answered. “Did Jack stay?”
“Yeah, I found him in your bed. Thought it was you, so I climbed in naked. He was so fine.”
I wanted to give him a visual; an I don’t care that you didn’t want to be with me attitude.
“Fuck you, you’re lying.”
I didn’t answer him and sat quietly. He finally turned his head to look at me. His eyes were squinting and he pushed his hair off his face, which seemed a tad puffy.
“Jack wouldn’t cheat on his girlfriend,” he said.
“Now there’s a rare animal,” I teased.
He grabbed a pillow without lifting his head and whacked me with it. I laughed and got up off the bed.
“Let me sleep some more,” he said, closing his eyes.
I spent the day alone by the pool, reading. It wasn’t bathing suit weather, but the sun was out and it was warm. Gayle showed up about five. I heard her through the screen door. Mathew hadn’t done much all day. He’d been lying on the couch, watching TV.
“Poor baby, hung-over are you?” she asked him in a condescending voice.
“Nothing that a good party won’t cure,” he said.
Gayle chuckled.
“What time are Jack and the boys coming?” I called from out back.
“I told them sevenish,” he answered.
The screen door opened, squeaking, and Gayle came and joined me.
“Nice day,” she said.
“Yeah, way to nice to sit inside all day and nurse a hangover.”
Sara, Sam, and Pat had again sealed themselves into the back part of the house to watch television by the time the guys got there. Sara threatened to tell our parents about us drinking when they got home. Good thing she didn’t know about the drugs, although I knew Pat would never nark me out about anything, Sara might.
The guys were mellower. We drank Jack Daniels and Coke. We swam and sat in the hot tub. Mathew brought a joint out, and we passed that around. The other guys had slowly moved inside and were watching sports while Mathew, Gayle, and I were left in the hot tub.
I was feeling loaded, a little lightheaded, giggly and showy. Pushing into Mathew I was being very flirty while poor Gayle was putting up with us. I was standing, facing him in the hot tub, teasing him by flashing my boobs. Gayle just ignored me. At one point I climbed into his lap and rubbed my breasts against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against him, his hands then running down my back to my ass. I was feeling very turned on, but didn’t think with all these people around that anything was going to happen.
“Let’s go get naked,” Mathew said.
I looked at Gayle, and then at Mathew. His suggestion was so left field. I was flirting, but hadn’t expected that.
“Who?” I asked.
“All of us,” he said, circling his finger around the three of us.
“You’re high,” I said, laughing.
I pulled back from him to look into his face.
“I’m serious,” he said.
I didn’t dare look at Gayle. She knew Math
ew and I had never gone all the way. I thought his proposition would be offensive to her.
“Mathew, take Morgan, I’m good,” she said, knowing what I wanted.
“Not that I don’t have my own dirty motives, Gayle, but you would be the only girl left with the guys, no doubt, horny guys. If you don’t go, no one goes.”
I knew she could go to the guest room, but I was just drunk enough to think his proposal could be fun. I wanted to hear her answer.
“Such chivalry,” she said.
“Such what?” Mathew asked.
“Never mind,” she answered.
I looked away, out into the night, trying not to laugh. Surely he was just teasing about the three of us.
“'Nother drink, anyone?” I garbled slightly, getting up. “I know I need one.”
They handed me their plastic glasses and I went inside and made us new drinks. The guys were all glued to whatever was on. They had most of the lights off in the room and the colors from the TV flashed on their faces. They all looked high.
“Jack, can you open the door for me?” I asked, balancing the three cocktails in my hands.
He leaned over and grabbed the end of the slider and opened and shut it, never taking his eyes from the TV. I set the drinks on the edge of the hot tub and got back in the water.
“Let’s go,” Gayle said, standing up.
I looked from one to the other in utter disbelief.
“You’re not serious?” I asked.
“Come on, kid,” Mathew said, taking my hand. “Grab your drink.”
What had transpired while I was gone? We got out and toweled ourselves dry and I followed Mathew and Gayle robot-like through the family room. The guys watched in disbelief as the three of us disappeared into Ann and Brad’s master bedroom.
Chapter 27
I’d envisioned Mathew and me together many times, so many times, but never like this.
“Let’s go for it, have some fun,” Gayle whispered to me.
I knew she had to be drunk to ever go along with this. I could tell Mathew was turned on by the whole idea. I could see it in his face and in his wide-eyed sexy grin. He would have told me if he’d ever been with two girls at once, this was a first. I took a gulp of my drink, the alcohol helping me, making me feel daring. Mathew stood watching me, challenging me with his expression as he pushed his suit down to the floor to free his cock. My mouth went dry when I saw he was already hard. I slowly stripped off my bikini in front of the two of them. Mathew came to me.
