Tunnel Vision

by H. R. Kitte-Rojas

  She didn"t think about what she did next. She just did it. She slipped her fingers in between his and they strolled along together like sweethearts. This felt even nicer.

  He stared askance at her.

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  He took a moment before saying, “No. Nothing at all. Well…”

  She met his gaze. “Well, what?”

  “It"s just that, um, there are certain things that make it kinda" hard—”

  “Is that the Rathskeller up there?” she interrupted, pointing to a single- story structure attached to a tall dormitory building—the first dorm ever built for the university.

  “That"s yet another lounge,” he said. “The Rat is in the basement.”

  They entered the lounge and descended the stairs to the basement.

  “Memories,” he sang, as he pushed the Rat door open for them.

  The place was dimly lit, with booths along each wall and tables on the floor in between. Up in the front was a stage and small dance floor, with a retractable movie screen. In back was the bar. The place had few patrons right then, but the juke box was playing “Independent Women” by Destiny"s Child.

  “Oh, snap,” she said, letting go of his hand and dancing a few steps to the beat. “This was my jam.”

  He grinned and watched her, backing up toward the bar. She stopped before her moves evolved into one of Nikita"s slut-dances, and followed him.

  He ordered a sub sandwich and water. She ordered a personal pizza and a wine cooler. Frank paid the cashier, who told them to watch for their order number on the LED displays around the Rat.

  They picked a booth in an unpopulated corner next to the dance floor, and slid in facing each other.

  “I"ve got a confession to make,” he said.

  “Another one?” she asked.

  “I"ve tried really hard to keep our agreement,” he said. “And I really, really appreciate you trying to comfort me. But when you hold my hand like you did on the way over here, it"s kind of difficult for me to think of you as only a friend.”

  His words gave her wonderful shivers, despite everything. “Friends can hold hands,” she said, thinking that teasing was fun and harmless as long as it didn"t become cruel.

  “But, even though I agreed to your terms…” his eyes roamed around the room. He appeared frustrated. “Can I have a minute of amnesty, here?”

  “I guess so.”

  “I"ve been attracted to you since I first saw you, Celeste. Yeah, I agreed to the friends-only deal, since that was the most you were willing to accept. Butit"s hard not to wish we could be a lot more than friends. And when you let me hold your hand, it felt so good, it made me want to…I mean even right now, just looking at you, I want to… Jeez, since I"ve known you, it"s like I"m a dumb college kid again, questioning myself, nervous, tongue-tied, socially inept.”

  “You"re fine, Frank,” she said, sliding out of the booth. She walked over to the juke box. If she hadn"t left right then, she would have leaned across the table and kissed him. But she didn"t want it to go down quite like that.

  “Yes!” She cheered softly when she found the song she was searching for. “Back in the day!”

  She sauntered back toward the booth, moving her hips just a little more than what came natural. Frank watched her approach with an unblinking gaze. She stopped beside the table and extended her arm, wrist bent so that her hand hung down at a dramatic angle, just as “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer began to play. She nodded toward the dance floor. “C"mon.”

  He took her hand, slid out of the booth and let her lead him to the dance floor. She put both arms around his neck so he would know she wanted him close. His hands went around her waist and they began to move together.

  “I"m not a great dancer,” he said.

  She gave him her disapproving teacher look. “You can dance. I saw you doing the Electric Slide.”

  “But this is—”

  She shushed him, then sang, “…Out of the bearded barley…”

  She leaned against him, following his lead, breathing in his masculine scent and indulging herself with how good it all felt. The melody carried her imagination back over the years to what could have been, then back to the present and what still could be. The lyrics might be nonsensical; then again they might have a personal meaning for each listener. To her, the emotions evoked by the song were much more important than the words.

  “I remember this song,” he said, absently.

  She leaned back so she could look up at him. Then she closed her eyes so she could concentrate on his touch, scent, and the revelation of his feelings to her. She opened her eyes again and locked them with his, lip-synching, “Kiss me, under the milky twilight…”

  “Celeste,” he said. “This makes it even more difficult than—”

  “Shut up and kiss me,” she said.

  They continued dancing.

  “I wasn"t singing, Frank. That was me talking. To you.”

  His hazel eyes flashed wide. He lowered his face slowly. She watched him draw closer, and closer. When she could feel his breath, she closed her eyes.

  His lips brushed hers. She whimpered and clutched him tighter, running her fingers through his hair the way Nikita had that night when she had burned with jealousy. Now his mouth covered hers in a more deliberate contact.

  They rebounded from the kiss to half-open their eyes and share a smoking, hungry look, then came together again. His tongue probed gently into her mouth. She met it with her own. Then it was like a fire consumed them. The world fell away and nothing existed for her but this man and this crazy, beautiful song. Maybe this is what tunnel vision is like, she thought, when the smell of food remindedher that the world beyond Frank"s kiss still did exist.

  When they came up for air, she gasped, “You can be so dense, sometimes!”

  “Huh?”

  “Shut up and kiss me some more.”

  He did.

  That"s better, she thought; you"re learning.

  When the song ended, they pried themselves from each other and noticed that their order was flashing on the LED sign. They also noticed several patrons staring at them.

  “You have a seat,” Frank told her, softly. “I"ll go get our order.”

  She slid back into the booth, but watched him all the way. So did every female in the Rat. As all of them were white, she imagined at least some of them were pondering why such a hunk had crossed the line, when they were up for grabs. She smirked back at them, feeling invincible right about then.

  Frank returned with their food and drinks. Afterwards she couldn"t remember what they said, only that they laughed a lot, shared food, fed each other, and held hands across the table when their food was gone.

  He offered to buy her another wine cooler.

  “You don"t have to get me drunk,” she said, winking. “And I want to remember everything.”

  They both picked out songs on the juke box, and danced some more.

  Finally, he wrapped her in her coat and escorted her out of the Rathskeller. She leaned against him and encircled his waist, while his strong arm went around her shoulder and pulled her tight into him. They couldn"t move very fast this way, but he didn"t seem to mind and she certainly didn"t.

  “Tell me what you"re thinking,” she said.

  “I"m thinking Christmas came early,” he replied.

  She giggled. “How"s that?”

  “I"ve been liberated from the Friend Zone.”

  She stopped and turned within his embrace. He turned to face her and they kissed again.

  “What else are you thinking?”

  “You sure are nosey,” he said.

  “Don"t change the subject,” she said.

  “I don"t want to come on too strong and ruin this.”

  She kissed him again and smiled up into his eyes. “Please tell me.”

  He took a deep breath. “Celeste, I want to make love to you so bad, it"s burning a hole through my brain.”

  S
he ran her hands through his hair, marveling at the texture of it.

  He grinned down at her. “Sorry. But I"ll be a good boy. I can wait until you"re ready for that.”

  She closed her eyes and attacked his mouth with desperate passion. When she finished kissing him, she panted, “I saw a hotel across the road.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “You better hurry while I"m still so serious,” she said.

  21 As if she weighed no more than a small child, Frank lifted Celeste in his arms and carried her the rest of the way to the car. She felt so light-headed, she feared this might be a fever dream and any moment she might wake up in her townhouse, still sick, with her TV blaring some sappy romance into her subconscious.

  “This is so surreal,” she remarked, as he set her on her feet to unlock th e car door.

  “Shh. Don"t break the spell,” he said.

  A man on a mission, he raced off the campus, across the road and into the Best Western parking lot. They held hands to the front desk. They ignored the look on the desk clerk"s face and whatever she might be thinking about them, too busy smiling at each other. Frank paid with a credit card and they clowned around on their way to the elevator.

  When the doors split open on their floor, they untangled from each other, wiping the wet, sloppy kiss from their mouths and giggling like drunks. They made three wrong turns trying to find their room but, laughing at each other and themselves, they finally made it inside.

  Celeste looked around the room, taking stock of the furniture, carpeting and wallpaper. “Two queen-sized beds,” she announced.

  “We"re only gonna need one,” he told her, with a wolfish gleam in his eye.

  She toured the bathroom, then excused herself and closed the door to take care of business.

  “We didn"t bring a change of clothes, tooth brushes or anything,” she called through the wall.

  “We"ll be fine,” he called back.

  He had his shoes and socks off when she came back out, standing beside the door, waiting for her.

  She read the hungry look on his face and it sparked the hunger within her own body. The time for laughing and joking had passed.

  He closed the distance between them and pushed the coat off her shoulders, flinging it toward the closet. Then he crushed her to him, kissing her with ferocity, his hands sliding down to cup her ass.

  When he broke it off and pulled back, he tugged her sweater up and off. She raised her arms to accommodate and the sweater turned inside-out as it peeled from her.

  Standing before him in her bra and slacks, she went tit-for-tat, sweeping the jacket off his wide shoulders, then unbuttoning his shirt. She would have ripped it off him if he had a change of clothes. Once his shirt was off, her eyes roamed over his skin, somewhat darker than peach-colored, but so much lighter than her own milk chocolate tone. She took in the hard, flat stomach, his bulging pectoral muscles, the welldefined biceps and triceps…then swung her gaze back up into his stormy hazel eyes.

  He reached for her bra, but she grinned and unhooked it behind her back for him, letting him pull it off of her unhindered.

  She adored how he studied her, hungry and reverential. He closed the distance between them again, his hands finding her waist. Her left hand found his right, and their fingers locked. With her other hand, she caressed his neck and strong jawline.

  Neither spoke. Their communication was all eyes, smiles and touches. His hands slid up her ribs and framed her breasts. She moaned her pleasure. Her nipples, already aroused, grew yet harder. He kissed her deep and slow, then worked his lips down to her chin, down her neck, across her bosom, around each breast, and finally to one of her nipples. She sucked in air as he nipped, nibbled, suckled and licked seemingly knowing exactly where the line was between pleasure and pain. Then he gave her other nipple the same treatment while his fingers made sure the first one didn"t feel abandoned.

  Finally he continued kissing downward, along her soft tummy, until he got to her pants. Her fingers ran through his hair again as he unbuttoned her and she stepped out of her boots. Then he skinned her slacks off with agonizing slowness, kissing down her thighs, knees and calves. Her whole body tingled as he peeled away her panties and she stepped out of them.

  Now he stood and stepped back to look at her body, from head to toe. Standing completely naked and vulnerable before him, she grew weak in the knees. She extended her hand to touch the bulge in his jeans, to signify that the balance of power wasn"t completely lopsided, here.

  “I want you so bad, Celeste,” he said, voice heavy with need.

  She shivered, then turned to pull back the bed spread while he got out of his jeans and boxers. As she bent over to turn down the blanket and top sheet, she felt something fleshy but hard poking around her nether region and cried out her surprise. She whirled to face him but he crowded her so that she lost balance and fell back on the bed. Now he stepped back and ogled her body. She ogled him right back, eyes dropping to his hand rolling a condom onto his upthrust erection.

  She arranged herself into a comfortable, receptive position on the bed. He lowered himself over her and feasted on her breasts some more. She moaned out loud when his hand spread her labia and began expertly massaging her steaming-wet sex. His mouth raised from her breasts to her lips and he kissed her so passionately it might as well have been the first time.

  As he kissed her he slipped inside. Her eyes popped open and she cried out his name. Gently, he thrust his hips down and forward. She gasped as his pulsing length was buried inside her to the hilt.

  “You okay, Celeste?”

  She nodded, though unable to open her eyes or cease her facial contortions.

  “Does it feel good?” he asked, huskily, as his hardness pulled back from her core.

  She nodded again, legs spread wide, arms around his neck hanging on for sweet mercy. It had been too long, and she couldn"t remember it ever feeling this good.

  Right before he slipped out, he reversed direction and thrust into her again.

  “Oh, Frank!” she squealed. Now her hands traveled down his muscular back until her fingernails dug into his glutes as she tried to pull him deeper and faster inside her. On this cue, he increased the pace. He was hitting the right spots and she felt an orgasm building deep inside her. Their bodies crashed together faster and faster, until the floodgates opened and she screamed out as the wave of utter bliss vibrated through her body. No sooner had she crested the peak than she felt him blow his top inside her. This turned her orgasm into a lightning double-whammy that rocked her from head-to-toe.

  She lay whimpering as Frank pulled out, removed the condom and took it to the toilet. He then scooted up beside her, pulling the sheet up over them and drawing her into a spooning position against him. He kissed all over the side of her face and down her neck. She moaned and ground herself back into his embrace.

  “I imagined you would be spectacular,” he said. “And you are.”

  “You weren"t bad, either,” she said, still shivering from the aftershocks. She caressed the white, muscular arm that held her against him, then grasped his hand and pulled it up to where she could closely examine the contrast of their skin tones.

  “Who"da" thunk it?” she remarked.

  “Thunk what?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.

  “That we"d come full circle after all these years. That we"d meet again through our best friends... All of it.”

  He became very still and quiet behind her. “I"m sorry. What?”

  “Frank, I"m her. I"m the girl from the student lounge, from the cafeteria, and the stairwell. It was me.”

  “Right. That"s a good one. You never went to State.”

  “I went here, freshman year,” she said.

  “What? No. You said—”

  “I lied about that, you big clod.”

  He recoiled, then sprang from the bed, gaping at her with bulging eyes. “What? You"re not serious!”

  She rolled onto her back. “I"m serious,"Coz." I coul
dn"t make something like this up. And if I did, nobody would believe me.”

  “I don"t believe you,” he said, but she could read in his face that he was putting it together.

  “I asked about the Cobb salad,” she said. Some guy named Ted wandered in and talked to you while we were in line. The people in front of us got impatient and left the line.”

  “Oh my god,” he said, hands to his temples. “You"re for real.”

  She nodded.

  “Why didn"t you tell me? All this time you knew, but what, you just wanted to torture me? Punish me?”

  “Really, Frank. You"ve been neither tortured, nor punished. It"s just…something that happened a long time ago that I was trying to forget. If anybody was tortured and punished, it was me. And here you came to remind me of it all over again. And with Shauna my best friend, it"s not like I could completely isolate myself from you.”

  Frank found his boxers on the floor and slipped them on, then sat on the chair near the round wooden table. “Oh my god. Oh my god. This is…I don"t know whatthis is.”

  “The mother of all coincidences, I guess,” she said.

  “Celeste. Oh my god, Celeste. I am so sorry.” Frank rubbed his face and fidgeted, a wild look in his eyes. “I"m so sorry, Celeste.”

  He bolted from the chair, came around to the side of the bed, kneeled down and buried his face against the mattress. “I was an idiot, and a coward. Please forgive me, Celeste.”

  She turned toward him, reached over and found his cheek with her hand. There was no anger against him in her heart. Only compassion.

  “Oh, Frank, you"re forgiven.”

  He raised up from his penitent position, looking sad and bewildered.

  “No wonder you hated me. Jeez, no wonder. Is there anything I can do to… No. Of course there isn"t.”

  “There is,” she said. “You can take those drawers off, get back in bed and hold me some more.”

  22 They lay in bed for hours, holding each other and talking. Celeste couldn"t resist playing with his hair. The smooth texture of it fascinated her.

  He asked her what happened after the stairwell incident, and she told him about transferring to Central, summarized the succession of men in her life, and how she got to the point she was at now. Now that Frank knew the truth about her, she wanted to be completely transparent.