Fast Friends: Reunion

by Turner, Stacy

  As they watched, they let themselves get swept back into their childhood. They had watched this movie together countless times. Mark used to pretend he was Buzz Lightyear and she liked to be Woody, the trusty cowboy. During their favorite parts of the movie, they mouthed the dialogue at each other, mimicking the facial expressions of the CGI characters.

  They kept drinking, too, and even though the drinks were weak, Tara felt her buzz getting stronger. Somewhere around the middle of the movie her eyes met Mark's and she had the sudden thought that he looked adorable. Why had she never noticed before how beautiful his grey eyes were? They made her think of a foggy night she'd spent camping in the woods, mysterious and a little scary.

  “Have you ever kissed a girl,” she blurted out, her brain to mouth filter having long since deserted her.

  “Sure,” Mark said, blinking in surprise. “Lots of times.”

  “Would you like to?” she asked huskily, ignoring the obvious lie.

  “Of course,” he said then colored lightly when he realized he'd just given himself away. She could almost see his brain working. It made her feel confident and grown up.

  “Wait a minute,” he said, the movie now completely forgotten, “what are you saying?”

  “I mean,” she said, turning her body to face him cross-legged on the couch, “would you like to kiss me?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Tara,” Mark said, sounding a little choked, “I don't think that's a good idea.”

  “Really?” she asked, trailing a finger up his bare arm. She felt a surge of feminine power when goosebumps appeared in its wake. “Maybe I should just kiss you, then.”

  He didn't move as she edged closer and removed his glasses. Feeling like a total sex goddess, she straddled his lap and leaned towards his face. They were almost the same height and build since his growth spurt had barely started to come on. She slipped her arms around his neck, grasping the cushions behind him. He smelled of the vodka and energy drink, but also a little sweaty and male. Taking a deep breath, she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. He didn't react at first, holding his body rigid, but she persisted, and eventually his mouth softened and molded to hers.

  To this point in her life making out had been a chore for Tara, something she did to make boys like her and to keep them happy while she was dating them. But this was different. His lips weren't dry and chapped like her last boyfriend's, and kissing him actually felt good. After several minutes of soft kisses, they tentatively parted their lips, letting the tips of their tongues touch.

  As the kiss deepened, Tara started feeling things she had never felt before. Her warmth started in her abdomen and spread through her body. On instinct, rather than the practiced faking she had used with other guys, she pressed closer to him. There was a hard lump pressing against her butt that she barely had a moment to wonder about before he turned the tables, guiding her over onto her back and getting on top of her.

  She didn't resist. Kissing him felt really good and there was a weird excitement about the whole thing. Was this what physical attraction felt like? Her legs fell open without her really deciding to do it. He started kissing and sucking her neck, something boys had done to her dozens of times, but it had never made her skin feel electric before.

  “Oh, wow” she sighed.

  “This is amazing,” Mark said. Tara couldn't agree more. How could Mark of all guys be making her feel this way. She should have been grossed out, but wasn't. She wondered what it would feel like if he touched her boobs. Usually it was kind of awkward and unpleasant when a guy felt her up, but she thought it might feel different this time.

  He kissed her on the mouth again, mumbling something about girls being awesome. He didn't say she was awesome, but she would take it. His hands were resting lightly against her sides. She took the left one and guided it to her chest. He didn't move it at first, just let it lie against her small breast. She tugged on his bottom lip, hoping it would get him charged up, and it seemed to work. He squeezed the firm little tit, sending a rush of tingles through her body. His right hand came into play, palming her other breast, massaging that one too. It felt great, but it was a really uncomfortable position. His forearms were digging into her ribs.

  “Can you get on your side?” she asked, pushing him up.

  “Sure,” Mark said. He kind of eased up and she slid to the side, still on her back. He turned onto his side with his back to the back of he couch. In this position he could reach her chest without crushing her.

  “Are you ok?” he asked, concern in his voice.

  Tara giggled. “I'm great.” To prove it, she guided his hand back to her chest. He resumed the massage, squeezing one of her boobs, then the other. He started kissing her again, using more tongue than before. She kissed him back, using all the skill she'd picked up from her boyfriends in the last two years. The wonderful new feelings were coming back and she didn't want them to stop.

  They made out like that for a while. Tara knew she was getting carried away and that Mark was right – this wasn't a good idea – but she told herself she'd call a halt in a minute. And then a later minute. After a while, Mark got his hand under her shirt and then her top came off completely. With a little nudging from her he figured out he needed to pay attention to the little hard bumps at the center of her breasts. It felt super when he rubbed and squeezed them with his fingers, but when he started sucking on one of them through her bra it was unbelievable. She dug her hands into his hair and moaned out loud, rocking her hips up and down.

  A stab of pleasure went through her crotch and it wasn't until she heard the rasp of a zipper that she realized it was caused by his hand. It had been cupped against the front of her body and was now trying to worm its way into her jeans.

  “No!” she yelled, pushing at his shoulders. He let go so abruptly she fell on the floor, the impact of her back on the carpet knocking some of the fog out of her brain. She couldn't believe she had almost let Mark Griegson put his hands in her pants. Mutant Mark. She was completely mortified. She could imagine the pointing and laughter if anyone at school found out about this. Not just that she had made out with him, but how much she had been into it.

  She scrambled to zip up her jeans and tug on her shirt. She was grateful for the shock of the fall especially with the weird feelings still buzzing in her body. She realized that if she'd been just a little bit more drunk she might have just climbed right back up on that couch and kept going. As her head continued to clear, she realized he hadn't said anything since he'd let her go.

  She looked up at him warily. His expression was guarded.

  “I need to go home,” Tara said, standing up and starting to hunt for her shoes. “Oh, damn. Where are my keys?”

  “You can't drive, Tara,” Mark said, running his hands through his disheveled hair. He swung his feet down to the floor. “Why don't you just go to bed?”

  Until tonight the idea of sleeping alone in the house with Mark had always seemed pretty harmless. She knew that Mark wouldn't do anything she didn't want him to, and goodness knows she never wanted to do anything with him. She'd found their parents' refusal to let them have sleepovers after she turned twelve kind of ridiculous. Now it made sense. Had they somehow realized, with all their grown up know-it-all-ness, that something like this could happen? It wasn't even that she thought now that he would do anything out of line, but her head was full of uncomfortable, muddled thoughts. She needed some space.

  “You're right,” she said. It always helped to tell people they were right before you disagreed with them. “I'm too buzzed to drive. I'll walk home. It's not that far.”

  “I'll come with you,” he said, snagging her keys from the side table. Obviously he didn't trust her not to do something stupid.

  Tara was still a bit unsteady as they put on their coats, but the cold night air when they got outside helped sober her up a little.

  “I can't believe I let you do that,” she said after a couple of blocks. Walking next to Mark she now realiz
ed that he was slightly taller than her. Only a few weeks ago they'd been exactly the same height. Was this what growing up felt like, everything changing around you with disorienting speed?

  “Let me?” Mark asked, chuckling. “You practically begged me.”

  He said it in a confident, masculine tone of his voice she wasn't used to hearing from him, and for some reason it really cheesed her off.

  “Well tell whoever you want, Mark,” she snapped. “No one's ever going to believe you.”

  “Oh, really?” Mark asked. “Why not? Cause I'm not popular like Teddy or who's that guy you were dating, Cameron?” He practically spat the name out. Cameron was a football player and a total dick to the nerdy kids.

  “Whatever,” she said, taking the corner into her cul-de-sac.

  “Whatever?” he said, clearly pissed off at this point. “That's like who gives a crap, right? Who gives a crap about Mark.”

  “I didn't say that,” Tara said, truly irritated now. She was not in the mood for a Mark pity-party. But he was just gathering steam.

  “Is that why you stopped?” he asked. “Am I too much of a loser to get to third base with Tara Phillips?”

  “First off,” she said, wincing at how close he'd come to the truth, “no one calls it third base. Second, no one gets there with Tara.”

  “Oh,” Mark said, “so I must have imagined it when you told me you let Cameron touch you down there.”

  Tara sighed.

  “He's the only one.”

  “You know what I think?” Mark said. “I think you don't think I'm good enough for you. I think you were worried that you'd have to wake up tomorrow morning and look me in the face.”

  “Ok, fine,” Tara said. “Everything you think is true. I'm a lying, cock-teasing bitch. You're going to be Bill Gates one day and I'm going to kick myself for letting you get away. But you know what, Mark, right here right now you should be thrilled that you got to make out with the hottest girl in school!”

  “You're right,” Mark sneered. “I should get my hands bronzed. I know they'll never get to touch a set of A-cup tits again.”

  Tara winced. Yeah, she was small on top, but she was 16 and skinny and it worked for her.

  “Look,” she said, stopping. “I can't deal with this right now. I'm still kinda drunk and I don't know what I'm feeling. I just need some space.”

  “You got it, babe.” Mark tossed her keys at her. They went a little wide and she reacted too slowly to stop them from sailing past her and ending up in the grass at the side of the road. When she'd dug them out she could see Mark had retreated down the street back the way they'd come. He waved vaguely towards her house and she knew he meant to watch her from there till she got inside. At least he hadn't stormed off and left her completely.

  As she climbed the steps to her house the lights came on in the foyer. Great, her parents were up. Her mother opened the front door in a robe before she even got the key near the lock.

  “Is that Mark?” she asked, craning her neck. Tara looked back to see him disappearing around the corner.

  “Yeah,” Tara said, hanging up her coat. Her dad came tramping down the stairs in his pajamas.

  “I thought you were with Bailey tonight. Are you ok?” Her mom pushed Tara's hair back from her face. Her fingers were warm against Tara's chilled cheek.

  “I'm fine,” Tara said, pulling away. “I just need to go to bed.”

  “You two were fighting,” her dad stated.

  “You heard us?”

  “You were yelling,” her mother said. Tara thanked heaven that none of her friends lived on her street.

  “Could you hear what we were saying?”

  Her parents exchanged a look.

  “No,” her mother said, “but you sounded pretty angry.”

  Tara sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Can I have a cup of tea?”

  “I'll make it,” her dad said. He walked off down the hallway towards the kitchen.

  “What were you fighting about?” her mom asked.

  “Nothing,” Tara said, a bit more forcefully than she intended. She really didn't want to have this conversation.

  “Tea is a good idea,” her mother said, guiding her towards the kitchen. The burner clicked and whooshed under the kettle. “You're drunk.” It wasn't a question.

  Tara's shoulders fell.

  They sat at the kitchen island, waiting for the water to boil. Tara played idly with the string on the teabag in her empty cup.

  “What happened?” her mother asked.

  “We were curious,” Tara said, looking down. “We wanted to know what it would be like – drinking, I mean.”

  “Curiosity killed the cat,” her father said, dramatically.

  “Is that all?” her mom asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “Yeah,” Tara lied, wishing the kettle would hurry up and boil already.

  “Well you're grounded,” her dad said, “and you should know a big part of it is for lying to us about where you were. The rest is for drinking. I'm very disappointed in you.”

  “I get it, Dad,” Tara said. The kettle squealed. Her dad got up and poured hot water into her cup.

  “And try to work things out with Mark,” her mom said, standing up. There was a noise from upstairs meaning they'd probably woken up one of her brothers. “You too have been friends forever. You need to realize friendships like that are worth holding on to.”

  Tara nodded. She would try, once she'd figured out exactly what she felt. It was all too much right now.

  Tara's office phone rang, jerking her from her memories. She pulled her mind back into the present. The here and now needed her attention. She answered the phone in her best cheery voice. There'd be time enough to relive her worst moments later.

  CHAPTER THREE

  At 4:30 Tara wrapped up a meeting with Abbie, one of their layout designers. Abbie had been with the company for a few years and Tara liked her, but lately she had noticed that Abbie was coming out of her shell, dressing better and showing a bit more confidence. Tara was happy for her. She wondered whether Mark had made the same kind of changes. There it was again – she was thinking about him.

  Back in the privacy of her office she checked her cell phone. There was a text from him.

  Mark: What time are you going to get there tomorrow?

  Abbie: 9 ish

  Mark: Dramatic entrance, huh?

  Tara: Not that dramatic. Only an hour in. I just don't want to be standing around in an empty gym waiting for everyone else to show up.

  Their high school reunion was the following night. They'd been talking about it for months. Mark lived on the east coast and wasn't getting in until the following afternoon, so they wouldn't see each other until the party. Tara was extremely curious about what he looked like now. They were friends on Facebook, but he hadn't added a new picture in years, not since he graduated college. He almost never logged on. Instead, they exchanged emails or texted. When she asked him why, he said he just didn't want his life plastered all over the internet for everyone to see. She tried to explain the privacy settings to him, but he wasn't really interested. It surprised Tara, but to each his own she guessed.

  Mark: The old gym. Wonder if they'll do it up like they used to for formal.

  He would have to bring up formal. What it brought to mind for Tara was the Spring Formal of their junior year when Mark had come with Teddy's ex-girlfriend Amanda. She was a sophomore, and very pretty. All of Tara's friends had cracked mean jokes about Mark. He had grown during that year to almost 6 feet tall and already skinny, hadn't filled out to match. It didn't help that he wore his thick glasses and an ill-fitting tux that made him look like a scarecrow, but she knew the real reason they made fun of him was because in their minds a guy like Mark wasn't supposed to be dating a girl like Amanda, who Teddy was still hung up on. Tara remembered that she'd liked Amanda, but had been kind of hurt that Mark seemed to have moved on as if what happened between them had meant nothing.
They still weren't talking, though Tara had tried calling him after the disastrous night at his house. Not immediately, of course, but after a week or two. He never picked up the phone and his parents steadfastly claimed he was out or doing his homework and would call her back. After a few times, she got the picture and stopped calling.

  The worst part about that Spring Formal wasn't even the way her friends had talked about Mark or her pathetic failure to defend him. Cameron had talked his way back into her life over winter semester and had been her date for formal. Later that night she had given that jerk her virginity on an old daybed in the basement of his house. She thought for some reason getting drunk on vodka and energy drink would make her feel what she had felt with Mark, but no luck. It was horrible and awkward and Cameron was a dick afterwards. Dumping him a few days later, after he'd bragged to anyone who would listen, was one of the easiest decisions of her life.

  Mark: Still there?

  Tara: I need to wrap things up here. Still in office.

  Mark: 'K.

  That was the second time in a day she'd kind of brushed him off.

  Tara: Should I call you later?

  Mark: Prob not :( I have to pack and stuff. I'll text you tomorrow.

  Tara: Ok. Have a good night.

  She felt a pang of rejection, but his explanation really did make sense, since it was three hours later where he lived. All the same Tara wondered if maybe she'd annoyed him. Or maybe he had plans. Right now he might even be with another woman. Get a grip, she told herself. It wasn't like they were dating. They were just friends. Well, except for the lighthearted flirting, but that didn't mean anything, did it?

  After work Tara drove home to her one bedroom apartment. She'd loved it when she got it, but now it seemed as if something was missing. It just didn't feel any more like a home than when she had moved in. All the furniture was stylish and suited the place. The apartment itself was spotless, including the kitchen, thanks to maid service. She liked to cook, but she rarely ever did. She worked late and some weekends, and she just didn't have time. Instead, she usually heated up frozen food or ordered take out. She had pictures of her parents and a few friends scattered around the place, but no ex-boyfriends. Not one of them had left her with the need or desire to remember their time together. Cameron wasn't the last guy she dated who was cute, but didn't turn her on. She had a couple of boyfriends in the past with whom she shared a good sex life, but being able to make her body respond wasn't the same as being able to touch her heart.