Jeremy ch11-1 / pedo Fb / Janus

Please note: All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.

Please keep in mind the difference between fantasy and reality.

“So we go into his house,” Suzy said, “and the place is immaculate. Like walking into a Ikea catalog. Sparkling floors, spotless kitchen, no clutter anywhere. And I'm thinking Brian is either secretly gay or drops big bucks on a cleaning service.”

It was the week before Christmas and seemingly the entire city had departed on an early holiday start. Jeremy had accompanied his father on a winter vacation to sunny Florida. Kate, meanwhile, had traveled out of town to spend a few days with her boyfriend, the doctor from Springfield. Since no one was due back in town until the day before Christmas Eve, Pam made the pilgrimage to visit her parents but, really, who can spend more than 48 consecutive hours in parental company without going crazy? So she returned to the empty Prater house to decompress. The peace had been nice initially, but then it started feeling too quiet. She ended up inviting over her friend Suzy to bake cookies.

Suzy continued describing her last date. “It's just unnerving, right? I've ended dates because the guy's apartment was absolutely filthy, but this is the other end of the spectrum. I've always believed that perfection on the surface must be hiding something.”

Pam retrieved a sheet of perfectly golden cookies from the oven, holding it with an oven-mitted hand while the other slid in the next sheet of raw cookie dough. “So what did you do?” she asked. “Did you leave?”

“No, no.” Suzy closed the oven door for her. A timer was set for eleven minutes. “We sat on his couch and drank some wine. A leather couch, by the way. Real leather. Not some crappy futon.”

“Didn't you say he was a graphic designer? How does a twenty-four year old graphic designer afford a leather couch?”

Using a spatula, Suzy began transferring the chocolate chip cookies to a cooling rack. “Wow, these smell incredible,” she said. “But yeah, that's exactly what I was thinking! A meticulously clean apartment AND a leather couch? It just didn't add up. But then we started making out. He was a decent kisser. Not too aggressive, not too boring. So I decide to overlook the little red flags and I start feeling him up through his jeans. I mean, come on. Brian is 6' 4''. How could I not?”

Pam remembered that Suzy had a thing for tall guys. “Um, yeah. Tall guys are totally hot,” she nodded earnestly.

“I know, right? I'm getting horny and I decide what the heck, this is our second date. He deserves a blowjob. So I pull down Brian's pants...” Suzy paused for dramatic effect.

“He was totally clean shaven!” Suzy whispered, even though no one else was in the house. “Like no stubble. At all. I mean, I was having flashbacks to playing doctor with my neighbor when I was six.”

“Oh, that's not such a big deal,” Pam said mildly. She poured them two glasses of milk. “Lots of guys do manscaping down there.”

They sat down on the bar stools next to the kitchen counter. Suzy took a bite of a cookie. “Manscaping is one thing. This was as smooth as a baby's butt. It was weird. Like really weird. I felt like cops were going to break down the door and arrest me for statutory rape of a minor.”

“I mean, what would you have done? Could you mess around with a guy if he was completely hairless? Don't you think it would be totally weird?”

“I don't know,” Pam said briskly. “It depends on the guy.” She busied herself by prepping the next baking sheet. “Can you get the cookie dough out of the fridge? So what happened? Did you make up an excuse and leave?”

“No. Like I said, I was really turned on at that point so I sucked it anyway. Brian must have been pretty horny too because it didn't take long. Two minutes, tops.”

“Of course,” Suzy said. “I always do. And I swallowed too. I think it's rude not to. I mean, spitting is the equivalent of a guy going down on you and then rushing off to wash his face afterward. If a guy did that to me, I would totally kick his ass out.”

“Maybe,” answered Suzy. She swirled the milk in her glass. “I would feel better if he had some hair down there. Do you think there's a way I could ask him to let it grow back? ”

“Maybe tell him you have daddy issues?” Pam suggested. “Tell him you're into older guys. Like salt and pepper types. With bifocals.”

“Very funny.” Suzy rolled her eyes. “I'm open-minded. You know that, right? But this degree of manscaping is too much for me.”

“Well, sure. Think about it. You've got Brian on this end,” she held out her right hand. “Looks like he hasn't even entered puberty yet. Then you've got the buzz cut guys. You know, where it feels prickly. Then it's the guys with curly hair where it's kind of poodle-like. And finally you've got the guys with a complete jungle down there.” She held out her left hand to indicate the other end of the scale. “Like they came from old school 70s porn.”

Suzy shrugged. “It's actually one of my favorite fantasies. Like I'm in a lab coat and there is a line of guys wearing bathrobes. All kinds of guys. College guys. Dads. Construction workers. Lawyers. I'm holding a clipboard and each guy has to open his robe and show me his cock. Some guys already have a hard-on, some don't. Cut and uncut. Different hair down there and, of course, different sizes. I get to walk down the line, taking notes on my clipboard. Doesn't that sound hot?”

Pam tried to picture the scene. The fantasy did little for her until she mentally adjusted the ages in the imaginary lineup. “Okay, yeah,” she concurred. “That's totally hot.”

Suzy helped herself to another cookie. “Enough about me. How's your love life?”

Pam spread her hands, indicating the Prater house. “This place keeps me busy. It's a full-time job keeping this household up and running.”

“You really need a vacation,” Suzy advised. “When was the last time you were even on a date?”

“I took Jeremy downtown to see 'A Christmas Carol' last week,” Pam said. “Does that count?”

“He's eleven,” Pam corrected. She thought a moment before adding, “Eleven and a half.”

“Whatever. The point is,” she mimicked Pam's earlier gesture, holding out her hands at the house, “all this? I'm pretty sure it's stunting you as a person.”

“It is too. All you do is take care of this house, take care of this kid, and you have no significant adult relationships. You're like that the butler guy who takes care of Batman.”

Pam gave her a sharp look. “Don't give me that. I know your gesture of casual judgment. What now? What did I do?”

“Forget it,” Suzy answered. “Okay, Batman's butler is Alfred Pennyworth. Haven't you ever thought about how odd it must be for him? He leads this secret double life that no one can know about. He has no life outside of Batman. No one knows the real him.”

“Okay, so Alfred's other significant relationship is with a teenage boy,” Suzy said with exasperation. “That makes it more creepy, not less. If you're not careful? You are going to turn into Alfred. You'll wake up one day and realize that being single is your Kryptonite.”

“See, now you're just getting mixed up,” Pam objected. “Kryptonite is Superman's weakness. Not Batman.”

Suzy gave her a pained look of exhaustion but Pam continued nonetheless. “Everyone knows that,” Pam insisted. “Kryptonite comes from Krypton. Like Superman. That's why those meteorites are his weakness.”

“You're the one that brought it up. I mean, Batman is just a regular human from Earth. He could stand next to Kryptonite all day long."

“Will you stop saying Kryptonite?” Suzy began stacking the cookies inside a large jar. “Isn't your birthday coming up? How old are you going to be? Twenty-six? I'm just worried that you're going to one day regret this period of your life. Your freewheeling twenties are supposed to be spent, well, freewheeling.”

“I will not regret this period of my life,” Pam said defensively. “I'm perfectly happy being single. I honestly don't feel like I'm missing out on anything.”

“It's not just that,” Suzy said. “When I got here you were having a snack. Do you remember what it was?”

“I haven't eaten that since I was, like, twelve. You're twenty-five. And you're eating ants on a log.”

“What's wrong with that? It doesn't have any added sugar and it's high in protein.”

“Forget about the nutrition, that's not what I'm talking about.” Suzy sighed. “It's just that your life seems, I don't know, weirdly skewed right now. You're eating kids' snacks. You know all this weird superhero shit. I guess I wouldn't be so worried about it if you were something other than an infrequent dater...”

Suzy retaliated by dipping her fingers into a bowl of flour and smearing it on Pam's black sweater. She tried to swat away her friend's hand, but the damage was done. “Not vanilla?” Suzy scoffed. “Aren't you the same lady who dated a guy for six months and never did anything other than missionary?”

“Oh, shut up.” Pam wet a paper towel and tried to dab the flour stains from her sweater.

“Um...” Pam thought hard. “Okay. I got it. This one time? Me and this guy had a contest to see who could masturbate fastest. First person who came was the winner.”

Suzy looked at her with newfound respect. “Huh. That's pretty hot. When was this? You never told me about it.”

“It was a long time ago,” Pam said. That was a lie, of course. She and Jeremy had done this two weeks ago.

“I did,” Pam said smugly. “He was kind of mad at me because he hates losing. But then I, um, took care of him. And then he stopped being mad.”

“Gosh.” Suzy zoned out for a moment. Pam knew how much she enjoyed hearing about the sexual escapades of friends. “Who was this guy?” she said, snapping out of it. “I still can't believe you never said anything to me.”

Before Pam could answer, her phone burst into a melody. Normally, she would have ignored it but she recognized it as the ringtone she had set for Jeremy. “Just a second,” Pam said, hopping off her bar stool and grabbing her purse from the table.

“Yes, it's the Imperial March,” Pam informed her friend. Judging from Suzy's questioning eyebrow, Pam realized she had failed another test of some kind. Ignoring her, Pam pulled out her phone. It was a video call, not a regular voice call. She swiped right to answer. The screen took a moment to load before Jeremy's face appeared. Unable to help it, Pam broke into a broad smile.

“Hi Jeremy,” she answered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Suzy wave coquettishly while silently mouthing the words 'Hi Jeremy' in a mocking manner.

Pam gave her the finger, making sure to hold her hand in a place where Jeremy wouldn't see it. “How's vacation?” she inquired.

“Pretty boring. It's been almost a week and I still haven't seen a crocodile yet. I thought Florida was supposed to be full of them. But I guess not.”

“That's too bad,” she said. He wasn't wearing a shirt so she could see the birdlike bone structure of his shoulders. “Is it warm down there?”

“Yeah. We've been going to the beach every day but the wind blows sand into everyone's eyes.”

Suzy crept up behind her and peered over Pam's shoulder. “Hi Jeremy!” she said.

“Uh, hi,” Jeremy said politely, even though it was clear he had no idea who she was.

“You have friends?” Jeremy was genuinely amazed. “I didn't know you had friends.”

“See?” Suzy whispered in her ear. “Even he thinks you're Alfred the butler.”

Pam blessed her with a hard elbow to the ribs. “I do have friends, thank you very much,” she clarified to Jeremy.

Suzy's head popped back into view over her shoulder. “We're in your room and reading your comic books,” she chimed in.

Pam shooed her away again. “Just ignore her,” she said. “Suzy is just teasing. We're not in your room.”

“Pam is always talking about how cute you are!” Suzy announced. She burst into giggles as Pam shoved her away. Even on her small phone screen, Pam could see Jeremy blushing.

“Oh, my dad wanted to talk to you,” Jeremy told her. He turned and yelled over his shoulder, “Dad? Pam's here. Hey dad!”

His voice was so loud that Pam had to turn down the volume on her phone. The video on the screen went herky-jerky as the phone was passed over to Jeremy's dad. “Hi Pam,” he said.

“Oh everything's fine. Just fine.” He ran a hand through his hair, a weary gesture that indicated otherwise. “Listen Pam, I know this is supposed to be your vacation time too, so feel free to say no. But... would you like to fly down and join us?”

“I'll pay for airfare, of course,” William said. “Again, please feel free to decline. It's just that...” He paused, trying to collect his thoughts. “Marla's daughter and boyfriend came with us on vacation too. I thought the three of them could entertain each other but, well... There's too much of an age gap since they're in high school and Jeremy...” He trailed off.

“They're not getting along?” Pam asked sympathetically. She hadn't met William's girlfriend Marla yet, let alone her daughter. While Jeremy was a generally easygoing person, she could easily envision his freewheeling style clashing with the wrong personality.

“No, they get along fine,” William admitted. “But Jeremy's kind of bored down here. And you know how he gets when he's bored.”

Jeremy wasn't visible in the video but she heard his voice. “What are you talking about? What did I do?”

William looked offscreen. “Jeremy, can you go to the other room please? Thank you.” He shook his head. Pam could see his barely concealed frustration.

“Of course I can come down,” Pam said. “A warm getaway sounds inviting.”

“Are you sure?” William asked. “I hate springing this on you.” He lowered his voice. “I just want our last half of vacation to go better than the first half. Jeremy always seems so much calmer when you're around.”

Pam was aware that Suzy had crept back to her side and was peering at her phone. She suddenly wished this was a private conversation. Too late for that though. “That's what kids at that age are like,” she said noncommittally. “When should I fly down?”

“Up to you,” William told her. “You know where the family credit card is so book whichever flight you'd like. Feel free to book a rental car too. Otherwise we can pick you up at the airport.”

“I don't have anything going on,” Pam told him. “I'll see what flights are like tomorrow.”

William turned his attention to something offscreen. She heard Jeremy's voice again. “So what did she say? Did she say yes?”

“Jeremy, can you give us a second?” his father asked. “Yes. She said yes.”

“Oh cool!” Jeremy's face popped back into the video. “When are you coming?” he asked.

“Please, Jeremy...” William rubbed his temples. He pointed the camera away from his son but Pam could still hear him.

William cut him off and returned his attention to the video call. “Let me know your flight info when you have it. Thank you, Pam.”

“Bye Pam!” Jeremy called from offscreen. He crammed in a plea,“BringCoppertonethanks!” Despite the distance of the video call, Pam could see William's eyes shooting daggers at his son. The call abruptly ended.

Pam dipped a cookie in her glass of milk. “That thought has literally never crossed my mind,” she told her. “Looks like someone has daddy issues after all.” She expected Suzy to protest, but instead a coy smile crossed her friend's face. Disgusted, Pam made a gagging sound. “He's really not my type.”

Pam didn't answer. She was already mentally compiling her packing list. Her shorts and tank tops were already in storage for the winter, but they would be easy to locate. Swimsuit, sunglasses, sun hat. And Jeremy's all-important Coppertone, of course.

Pam opened the windows of her rented car, letting in a blast of warm Florida air. On either side of the highway were vast expanses of perfectly blue ocean. It was her first visit to the Florida Keys. She had experienced a brief panic attack upon embarking on the first long bridge, so she tried to keep her focus on the fifty feet of pavement in front of the car. The patches of uneven asphalt and rusted bridge standards did little to calm her nerves. Hadn't she recently read something about the crumbling infrastructure of America?

When she finally pulled up to the house, Pam had never been so glad to get out of the car and step onto solid ground. Having grown accustomed to the northern winter weather, the warm sunshine on her bare arms felt strange but she welcomed it nonetheless. She surveyed the house, which belonged to William's girlfriend Marla. It was a stately two story home surrounded by a tidy picket fence. The house might have been described as plain with its white paint and blue shutters, but it nevertheless exuded an undeniable elegance with its tall peaked roof and ornamental gables. A large porch with baroque columns and black metal railing ran the length of the front. The south side was shaded by a thicket of palm trees that swayed with the breeze.

Retrieving her luggage from the trunk, Pam hauled herself up the steps and rang the doorbell. No one answered. Double-checking the street signs, she wondered if she had the wrong address. After buzzing the doorbell a second time, Pam tried the doorknob. The door was unlocked so she cracked it open.

“Hello?” she called out. There was still no answer. Just inside the entryway, she spotted a familiar pair of cherry red Chuck Taylor high-tops. The left shoe sported a skull and crossbones drawn on the toe cap in permanent black marker. The right one had “JP” scrawled on it.

“This must be the place,” she murmured. Pam let herself in. The floorboards squeaked dreadfully as she made her way across the foyer. A black cat darted from under a bench and eyed her suspiciously. She was about to pet it when a figure appeared at the end of the hallway.

It was sullen teenage boy. “Can I help you?” he frowned. His stringy hair was dyed in a color that could only be described as metallic pumpkin. A row of metal piercings glimmered at her above his expressive eyebrows.

“Uh, gosh, I'm sorry,” Pam stammered. In lieu of clothing, the teenager wore nothing but a pair of tight boxer briefs that emphasized his sinewy frame and chiseled chest. She didn't know where to look while talking to him. “I must have the wrong house. I rang the doorbell but no one answered.” She pointed at the red Converse shoes and continued, “I thought I recognized these and figured this had to be the place so I let myself in and, well...” Pam stopped when she realized she was babbling.

The cat had remained frozen during this exchange, still eyeing her with wariness. Judging from the skepticism on the boy's face, Pam may as well have been a door-to-door salesman hawking used vacuum cleaners. The boy scratched his neck, drawing attention to the ½ inch gauge ear plug that stretched his lobe. Pam had already backed her way out of the house when a girl appeared behind him.

“Wait. Are you Pam?” she asked. The cat immediately scurried to the girl's side and leapt into her arms.

“Um, yes?” Pam answered. The girl was the polar opposite of the teenage boy, though they appeared to be the same age. Whereas he sported a modern punk look, she was a classic 50s girl that could have stepped out of a vintage soda fountain ad. Her blond hair was cut in a long bob and held in place by a scarlet headband. Pam wanted to ask where she got her cute black dress with its oversized polka dots and jaunty white belt.

The girl slapped the boy's arm. “Don't you remember? My mom said she would be coming today. This is the lady Jeremy keeps talking about.” She strode forward, one hand cradling the cat as she extended her free hand to Pam. “It's nice to meet you. I'm Apple.”

“Let me get that,” she said, taking Pam's backpack. She gestured to the teenage boy, who took her luggage. “Looks like you already met Athena.” She held up the cat. “And this is my boyfriend Zep.”

“Um, hey. Zep.” They were such an odd pair that Pam still wondered if she had the right house. Perhaps those red shoes were just a coincidence?

From the fridge, Apple extracted a large pitcher of water that had slices of orange and lemon floating in it. She handed it to Zep and then placed three tall tumblers on a tray. “Would you like to sit on the porch?” she offered. “It's so nice outside.” Pam followed her out the front door. An oversized hammock hung at one end of the porch, along with a pair of wooden rocking chairs with tall backs. Apple carefully arranged herself in the hammock with Athena.

“Have a seat,” Apple said, gesturing to a chair. She began pouring water into the glasses. Pam took one chair while Zep took the other. “William and my mom went to run an errand or something. I think they'll be back soon.”

“Sure,” Pam nodded. She gratefully took a sip of the citrus flavored water. “Did Jeremy go with them?”

“I'm not sure,” Apple answered. She looked at Zep. “Did Jeremy go with them?”

Pam was wearing a simple t-shirt that bore the graphic of a local coffee roaster back home. She actually felt quite plain compared to Apple's 1950s stylings. “Thank you. I like your dress more though. Where did you get it?”

“I made it,” Apple said proudly. “It's actually patterned after an old dress my grandma used to wear.”

“Wow. It looks amazing.” Pam, having never so much as threaded a needle, felt wholly inadequate. An uncomfortable silence ensued. Zep looked so bored that he seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep. “So... is your name short for something, Zep?” Pam asked brightly. “Were your parents big Led Zeppelin fans?”

“It's short for Zephyr,” Apple interjected. “I think that sounds cool but he doesn't like it when people call him that.”

Another awkward silence followed. Pam was grasping for something to say when she heard a car coming up the drive. Apple shot a murderous look at Zep and shooed him off the porch. He hurried inside the house. Pam was unable to decipher their silent communication. The sound of William's voice drifted over.

“... don't want to hear any more about it, Jeremy,” he was saying. “Next time we go somewhere? Anywhere? Put on your shoes, okay? You can't just walk around barefoot and...”

Jeremy interrupted him. “Look! Hey, Apple!” he called. “Is Pam here? Did she get here while we were gone?”

Pam realized he couldn't see her because the tall rocking chair shielded her completely. Apple held a finger to her lip and smiled at Pam. “No, she isn't here yet,” Apple answered. “She actually called and said she wouldn't get here until tomorrow.”

“Whatever, liar,” Jeremy said. “I know she's here. Where is she?” Stomping toward Apple, he grabbed a seat cushion from the other chair. He was just about to whack her with it when he noticed Pam out of the corner of his eye. She giggled when she saw the way his face lit up.

“Pam!” She stood up to greet him but he barreled in for a hug, almost knocking her back down into the rocking chair.

“Oof... um, hi!” His arms were wrapped so tight around her waist that he squeezed the breath out of her. Moreover, his chin burrowed straight between her breasts. Pam was thankful she wasn't wearing a low-cut shirt.

William entered the porch. “Hi Pam, glad you made it here safely.” He must have noticed his son's overly long hug because he made a strange face. “Uh, hey there, champ,” William said. “I'm pretty sure Pam needs to breathe.” He grabbed Jeremy by the shoulders to pull him away. “C'mon, lighten up, huh?”

“Want to know how I knew you were here?” Jeremy asked her. “I recognized your sandals at the door!”

Apple had a bemused look on her face. “Pam said the same thing about your shoes. That's so cute that you guys can recognize each other by footwear!”

Embarrassed, Pam didn't know what to say but she was rescued when a woman came up the porch stairs, taking slow and deliberate steps in high heels. She was short yet slender, with inquisitive eyes and pale ivory skin that belied the Florida sun. A clatter of gold bangles hung from her wrist. She noticed Pam and stepped forward.

“Hi there,” she said. “You must be Pam. I'm Marla. I've heard so much about you.”

“Hello,” Pam said, shaking her hand. She had never been the type to judge a person by her handshake, but Marla's was an exceptionally limp one. She was about to say something when she was interrupted by Zep strolling back onto the porch. His piercings had disappeared and he was now dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans.

“Good morning, Zephyr,” Marla said. “Did you just wake up? You look so nice and neat in your clean shirt and jeans.”

If she noticed, Marla didn't acknowledge his discomfort. “You know, Pam, I'm really glad you're here,” she said. “It's so nice to have an extra pair of hands to help out. William and I are shopping for a new grill. Hey, who's excited to grill out tonight?” She looked to Apple and Zep for a response, any response, but was instead greeted with teenaged dead air. Barreling on, she continued, “So Pam, we'll need something to grill so I put together this list of groceries for you to pick up. Oh, and if you could help us catch up on laundry too. And I'm sure you've noticed the kitchen is a disaster area.”

Pam opened her mouth to speak, but shut it without saying anything. Marla handed her a grocery list. “Sure, I can take care of this,” Pam said slowly.

“Thank you, dear,” Marla answered absentmindedly. She was already scanning her phone and tapping away at the screen.

“Pam, glad you made it here safely,” William said. “Jeremy, I'm going to assume you want to stay here now.” He shook his head in annoyance. “We drove all the way to the store only to realize Jeremy wasn't wearing shoes,” he explained.

“So we're off again to find a new grill,” William announced. Jingling his keys, he took Marla's hand as they returned to the car.

“Come on, Zep,” Apple said, extricating herself from the hammock. “I need something sweet. Time to raid the jelly jar.” They went inside the house, leaving Pam and Jeremy alone on the porch.

“You should try the hammock,” he said, taking her hand. “It's really comfy.” He sprawled at one end while Pam lay at the other. They rocked back and forth. “Pretty nice, isn't it?”

“Aw, really?” Though the hammock was made for two, his foot was still jammed against her elbow. She playfully wiggled his toes one by one. “I missed you too.”

“I don't know, Jeremy. You know how I feel about playing Call of Duty when we're not home alone.” Especially in a new house where Pam was unfamiliar with the configuration. How thin were the walls? Did the doors have locks? Marla's house, while beautiful, was also quite old which meant sound probably traveled easily from end of the house to the other.

Pam smiled at him. Unable to resist, she rested her foot on the crotch of his shorts, her toes searching for its target. It wasn't difficult to find, especially once he started getting hard. With barely any effort, Pam coaxed an erection from him, creating an exceptionally prominent tent jutted from his shorts. She took a moment to admire her handiwork.

The moment he mentioned Coppertone, Pam felt a twinge of guilt. “Yeah, about that...” she began. But she was interrupted by Apple returning to the porch, startling them both. A look of alarm crossed Jeremy's face as he fumbled for a pillow to hide his crotch. Since Apple was approaching fast, Pam casually draped her leg across his lap, effectively erasing any sign of his arousal.

“Hey you two!” Apple said. “I just had an idea. How about the four of us head out for the beach?”

“Oh. Sure! That sounds like fun,” Pam said. It was difficult to speak normally when she could feel Jeremy's hardness pressing against the underside of her calf. “Did you want to go right now?”

“I should probably clean the kitchen first,” Pam said thoughtfully. “Your mom will probably be annoyed if she comes home and it's still a mess.”

“Oh, don't worry about that,” Apple said with a wave of her hand. “Zep and I already took care of it so we could all go to the beach.”

“Well... maybe you and Zep should go to the beach,” Jeremy piped up. “And Pam and I could stay home and... you know.” Pam fixed a caustic look on him, her eyes bulging as she gave the slightest shake of her head. “Um, or we could go the beach too,” Jeremy finished lamely.

“Jeremy,” Apple said reproachfully. “You don't want to go to the beach? Who's going to help me put sunscreen on those hard-to-reach places?” He blushed. Pam was shocked to feel his erection throb momentarily against her leg. Unamused, she glared at him but he didn't seem to notice. Instead he straightened his hair as Apple patted his shoulder.

“Let's plan to leave in twenty minutes,” Pam suggested. “I just need to get settled in. Find my swimsuit. You know.”

“Sounds perfect!” Apple said. She strolled back into the house. “I'll let Zep know.”

Once she was gone, Pam swung her feet off the hammock and stood up. “Hey, Captain Obvious. Try not to be so obvious next time,” she said.

He stood up, smoothing his long shirt over his crotch to hide the unflagging bulge in his shorts. “But you said we could play Call of Duty if we were home alone so I thought...”

“I know, I know,” Pam interrupted. It was hard to keep the edge out of her voice. “So what's this about putting sunscreen on Apple?”

“He was in the bathroom. And Apple said she doesn't like it when he does it because she's usually ticklish. But she said I did a great job because my hands are so gentle and-”

“Okay, I get it!” Pam interrupted him again. Suddenly grumpy, she headed back inside the house. “Come on. Can you show me which room is mine?” They stopped in the foyer to retrieve her forgotten luggage. Athena, watchful as ever, poked her head around the corner.

“I got this one,” Pam said. “Can you take my backpack?” Athena followed them up the stairs, weaving playfully between Jeremy's feet. By the time she reached the top, Pam's arms felt like they would fall off. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“It's that door at the end of the hall,” he pointed. Wanting to make sure her arms were still attached, Pam paused a moment to rest before continuing. As she rubbed her upper arms, Jeremy said, “If you're tired, we could stay home for a little bit before going to the beach.”

“I still don't understand why you're annoyed with me,” Jeremy grumbled. “I only suggested they go to the beach alone because I thought it was what you would say.”

Pam sighed. “Don't you think Apple would get suspicious if we stayed home alone?”

It took all her patience to suppress a second sigh. Sometimes she forgot that he was only eleven years old. “It's a boundary issue,” she explained. “Like remember that time at home when I was taking a bath and you walked right in?”

“I just had to get some toilet paper. What's the big deal? I see you in the shower all the time.”

“But your mom was home! How many times do we have to go over this?” Pam shook her head in exasperation. Gathering her thoughts, Pam went into full lecture mode as Jeremy followed her. “There's a time and place for... certain things. You need to understand boundaries better than that. You need to learn to respect people's privacy.” Still lecturing, she turned to look at him as she fumbled for the door knob. “You can't just go around opening closed doors and-”

Pam stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Apple and Zep on the bed. Had Jeremy pointed to the wrong room? This bedroom was most certainly not unoccupied. Indeed, Zep was quite busy occupying Apple. There was a sheet covering the lower half of their intertwined bodies but it was obvious what they were doing as Zep rhythmically moved his body over hers. Behind her, Jeremy bumped squarely into her back since he was not expecting her to stop.

“What's the holdup?” he began. But before he could even finish his sentence, Pam forcefully backed out of the room and closed the door. She prayed that Apple and Zep didn't notice their presence. In her haste to retreat, however, she barreled clumsily over Jeremy. He tripped. Doing her best not to step on him, Pam stumbled over his legs herself, somehow landing in a sitting position on her tipped-over luggage.

She tried to play it cool. “I think I'll just sit down now,” Pam remarked, leaning against the wall. She patted her suitcase. “Good thing this was here to break my fall.”

"Oh." Neither of them spoke for a moment, which was unfortunate because a series of quiet gasps and moans emanated from under the closed door. “What's that?” he asked, cocking his ear.

“Maybe they left the TV on?” Pam suggested, hoping that would end his questions. “Let's not bother them.”

“I thought you'd never ask. Let's go.” She followed him, leaving her luggage outside the closed bedroom door. He led them back down the hallway and up another set of stairs. At the top was a converted attic space with angled ceiling walls and a set of dormer windows. A railing stood at on end. Pam realized the space was a mezzanine that overlooked the common hallway of the second floor. It probably was never meant to be a bedroom, but was nevertheless furnished with a bunk bed, a small desk, and a bathroom behind a sliding door.

“Zep has the bottom bunk,” Jeremy explained. “But he and Apple usually stay up late.”

“Uh, I'm sure they do,” Pam nodded. She had a pretty good idea why the two teenagers were staying up so late. “I didn't know you had to share a room with Zep.”

“Didn't my dad tell you? There are only three bedrooms in the house so we all have to share.”

Pam frowned. This wasn't quite what she had in mind when she agreed to fly down to Florida. The house was gigantic. Surely there was another room on the first floor.

“Isn't this a cool room though?” Jeremy asked. Pam wasn't sure if that was how to describe it. Various articles of clothing and comic books were strewn across the floor. She also counted seven half-empty water glasses scattered throughout the room. The sole orderly object was a bookshelf that was neatly arranged with a small army of nutcrackers dressed in various outfits.

“What's with these?” Pam asked. She picked up a nutcracker that was dressed as an English guard from Buckingham Palace.

“It's Apple's nutcracker collection. She used to collect them when she was little. This one's my favorite.” He pointed to a nutcracker dressed as an astronaut. Pam had no idea nutcrackers came in so many different variations. She stopped counting after reaching thirty and returned her atttention to the cluttered room.

“Hard to believe you've only been here four days,” Pam observed wryly. Unable to absorb the mess, she picked up a towel and hung it up in the small bathroom that barely had enough space for a sink, toilet, and shower. “Seems more like weeks.” She noticed a clear glass door near the bunk bed. “What's that?” she asked.

Jeremy opened the door for her. They stepped out onto a small deck that was no bigger than eight by eight feet. It was enclosed on all sides by a fence so tall that Pam could barely see over it, even on her tiptoes. In the distance, she spotted some lazy palm trees and a tantalizingly cobalt strip of ocean.

“Yeah,” Jeremy said regretfully. “If it was lower, we could throw water balloons over the side.”

“Oh right,” Jeremy said. “That would be cool too.” They stepped back inside the house.

“Hey, want to see how I get into the top bunk?” Jeremy asked. It took him two tries and a running start, but Jeremy managed to vault himself onto the top bunk without using the ladder. Athena, napping on his bed, darted out of the way just in time.

Jeremy swung his legs off the edge but remained seated on the bunk bed. “Um, could we play Call of Duty now? Since Apple and Zep are asleep?”

“You know I would love to,” Pam began, “but there's something I should tell you.” The open floor plan made her feel overexposed. Was it her imagination or was Athena regarding her with suspicion? Pam moved closer to the bunk bed so she could lower her voice. “The Coppertone got confiscated at airport security,” she confessed.

“They took it from me at the airport,” Pam said softly. “It was more than three ounces. I should have put it in my checked bag. But don't worry. I'll find you some Coppertone when I go grocery shopping.”

“Shhh!” Pam said. “Keep your voice down, will you? You're the one that forgot it in the first place. Besides, what's the big deal? I told you I'll pick some up.”

“There isn't any!” Jeremy groaned. He flopped backward onto the bed, his arms splayed out. “Don't you think I checked? All the stores out here are tiny. No one sells it.”

“I already checked!” he repeated forcefully. “You never trust me to do anything.”

“Let's all calm down,” Pam urged. “Look, there's only... what, three more nights of vacation? When we get home, we can play Call of Duty until you bleed. Well, figuratively, of course.”

“You'll have to be patient. It's not like you're going to wither away and die without it.”

“It's been so hard to sleep,” Jeremy complained. “I just lay there for hours. Tossing and turning.”

Pam patted his knee sympathetically. “I'll rub your back tonight until you fall asleep.”

“Jeremy. Don't be that way,” Pam admonished. “Go find your swimsuit. We're going to the beach, remember? It'll be fun.”

“All right then.” Pam retreated down the stairs. It wasn't the first time she had seen him in this mood. It seemed to be happening more often lately. There would be no use in trying to cheer him up, or even engage with him, until he got over it. At the opposite end of the hallway, she saw Apple exiting the bedroom. Recalling the accidental intrusion, Pam prayed that their momentary presence in the room had gone unnoticed.

“Hey there,” Apple said. “Are you ready to head to the beach? You guys can go ahead and we'll catch up with you. Zep is a little tired.”

“Oh, I don't think we'll go either,” Pam replied. “Jeremy just wants to stay home.” She paused, unsure how to broach the subject. “Um, so I heard we'll be sharing a room?”

“I was going to ask you about that...” Apple's eyes shifted furtively from side to side, as if she were making sure they were alone. “Pam, could I ask you a favor? Don't tell my mom this, but Zep has been sneaking into my room at night so we can sleep together. But now that you're here...”

Pam saw where she was going. “You want me to sleep with Jeremy?” She frowned. “Um, that came out wrong. You want me to sleep in Jeremy's room?”

“If you don't mind,” Apple answered. “I understand if you'd rather not. It's a bunk bed after all.”

If Jeremy had been in a better mood, Pam would have considered this favor to be a godsend. As it was, she found herself waffling. “I suppose I could do that,” she said.

“I don't think my mom is going to check on us or anything. And even if she did, I would be the one getting in the most trouble. Well, me and Zep.”

“I'm sure it will be fine,” Pam told her. “I'd be happy to take the bunk bed with Jeremy.”

Pam rolled her luggage along the hallway, returning to the mezzanine stairs. But once she was confronted with all those steps, her arms ached in protest. She could bring up her luggage later. Remembering Marla's grocery list, she decided to head for the store.

Upstairs, she found Jeremy still sulkily staring at the ceiling as he lay in the bunk bed. “I have to pick up some groceries,” she told him. “Want to come along?”

“No.” Jeremy rolled away, turning his back to her. Athena peeked over his hip, her tail whipping back and forth.

Pam gave up. “Suit yourself.” Hopefully this bundle of pre-teen hormones would be in a better mood once she returned from the grocery store. She studied the list Marla had given her. The dinner menu consisted of a gluten-free, dairy-free lasagna with grilled vegetables on the side. “Gluten-free, dairy-free lasagna...” Pam had to say the words aloud to make sure she wasn't misreading. How was that even possible? She remembered passing a grocery store on the way to the house.

Her phone's GPS successfully guided her to the grocery store, but there was a lineup to enter the parking lot. Her rental car was reduced to inching along as customers navigated the poorly designed space. Pam was appalled. She had never seen a traffic jam in a parking lot before. Everyone, it seemed, was obsessed with parking as close as possible to the entrance, even if it meant waiting for another customer to exit a parking space. Pam spent a frustrating twenty-five minutes waiting to park.

Things continued downhill after that. She had scarcely begun shopping when Pam remembered how much she hated adjusting to a new grocery store. What would have taken fifteen minutes at home stretched out to an hour in the Florida Keys. She crossed the entire store numerous times as she hunted for the items on Marla's grocery list. It didn't help that the list contained exotic items like shallots, fava beans and capers. (Sugar-free sorbet? What was the point of that?) Once she was done shopping, exiting the parking lot required a fifteen minute wait. A king-sized headache assaulted her as she gripped the steering wheel with tight knuckles. Pam was ready to throttle someone after the sour shopping experience.

Which was why she was instantly furious when she came home to find Jeremy cavorting with Apple in the porch hammock.

She was carefully navigating the precariously steep steps to the house with two bags of groceries when her ears caught the sound of laughter. Pam didn't know it was coming from the porch until she spotted Jeremy and Apple in the hammock. He lay on one end, his feet pressing against her legs as she reclined in the opposite end. “... so Apple, who's your favorite Star Wars character?” she overheard him asking her.

Pam opened the door with her foot. The groceries landed on the kitchen counter with a dull thud. Her dark mood, unbelievably, plunged further into darkness. Had Jeremy purposely declined accompanying her to the grocery store? So he could spend time with Apple? Pam fumed for a few seconds before remembering the rest of the groceries in the car. “Like hell I'm rubbing his back tonight,” she thought to herself.

On the second trip from the car to the house, Pam hoped they would at least acknowledge her presence and offer to help. Instead she was treated to the sound of Apple's giggle while Jeremy told a knock-knock joke. It was the same joke he had been telling since he was eight. “Get some new material already,” Pam seethed.

On the third trip, the good news was that Jeremy was no longer in the hammock. The bad news was that he was now fanning Apple with a vintage copy of Life magazine while pushing the hammock. “He is so fucking dead,” Pam muttered.

It wasn't until she had unpacked all the groceries that the two of them strolled into the house. “Oh hi, Pam,” Apple said. “I didn't even realize you were home already. Did you need any help?”

“Jeremy here was keeping me entertained with some funny stories,” Apple told her. “Did you know he had to finish a hike once with his hands handcuffed behind his back?”

“Oh really?” Pam said. “That must have been something. Good thing you didn't have to pee or anything, huh Jeremy?” He shifted uncomfortably on his feet but remained quiet.

Apple's eyes bugged out as she laughed. “You would have been in deep trouble then!” She patted Jeremy on the head. “I'm going to see if Zep is awake from his nap. Catch you guys later!”

The kitchen became uncomfortably quiet once Apple left. Gritting her teeth, Pam pulled Marla's dinner recipe from her pocket. After studying it a moment, she began retrieving ingredients from the refrigerator.

Jeremy cleared his throat. “Um, do you need any help making dinner?” he tentatively offered.

“You can help by staying out of the way for once,” Pam snapped at him. Jeremy recoiled as if she had hit him. With a deeply hurt expression, he scampered out of the kitchen. Pam imagined him searching out Apple for consolation. The thought only served to fuel her rage.

She grimly got to work, wondering why she had even come to the Florida Keys in the first place. There was a great clatter of metal on metal as she rooted through the cabinets in search of a large pot. While waiting for the water to boil for the gluten-free pasta, Pam opened some canned tomatoes to make the sauce. Hearing footsteps behind her, she steeled herself for Jeremy's return. Instead it was Apple.

Her cheerfulness was grating, particularly given Pam's awful mood. It didn't help that she also wanted to claw out Apple's eyes. “I've got things totally under control,” Pam assured her.

Apple perused her mom's written recipe. “I could chop the vegetables for the grill,” she offered.

Pam paused a moment to sort out her feelings. The lasagna recipe had no fewer than twelve steps that required an inordinate amount of attention. There was no way she could prepare dinner all by herself. She wasn't sure if she should be trusted with a sharp knife around Apple, but Pam undoubtedly needed her help. “That would be great,” she accepted. “Thanks.”

Apple began washing the zucchini and eggplant. Pam allowed the stony silence to continue, not saying a word when Apple hunted for a cutting board and knife. Pam was almost disappointed when she finally found them. A precise 'snick-clack' sound filled the kitchen as Apple began chopping the vegetables. “Sorry my mom is so bossy,” she told Pam.

Apple laughed. “That's nice of you to say. She says she gets it from my grandpa. Zep can't stand being around her for more than a few minutes. He says she can't help but micromanage everything.”

“That's a long time. Especially if you're... sixteen?” Pam guessed. She checked her pot of water on the stove. There were a few bubbles but it was nowhere near boiling. The lid clanged as she clapped it back onto the pot.

“I'm sixteen but Zep doesn't turn sixteen until next month,” Apple said. “He keeps telling me I'm robbing the cradle.”

“Ha.” Pam began dicing some onions but then overheard Apple chuckling to herself. “What's funny?” she asked her.

Apple lowered her voice. “I hope you don't think this is weird, but you can totally tell Jeremy is going to be super hot.”

Pam's jaw clenched as checked the pot again. “Really? I guess I've never given it much thought.” The water had finally come to a roaring boil. Removing the lid, Pam added a pinch of salt and the lasagna noodles.

“Totally hot,” Apple affirmed. “Have you ever noticed how long his eyelashes are? He's always fluttering them at me. It's so cute. I'm probably a little biased though because...” She glanced around to confirm they were alone. Whispering now, Apple confided, “I think he has a crush on me.”

There was a clatter as Pam dropped the lid on the floor. Apple stopped chopping vegetables. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“I'm fine,” Pam said. “The lid was hotter than I expected.” She took a deep breath and counted to ten. “How do you know he has a crush on you?” she asked casually.

Apple resumed chopping vegetables. “I just know. From the way he looks at me sometimes. Or the way he follows me around. But don't tell Jeremy I told you that. I can tell he's the sensitive type.” After a moment, she added, “Don't tell Zep either. He'll be jelly. Even though Jeremy's only, what, twelve?”

“So let's see... when he's my age, I'll be twenty-one. Twenty-one! That's so old! I guess we really are too far apart.”

“I suppose it's all a matter of perspective,” Pam said. “If you were twenty-nine and he was twenty-four? That wouldn't be a big deal.”

“Truth,” Apple nodded. She assembled her chopped vegetables in a bowl and drizzled olive oil over them. “I can get these started on the grill,” she volunteered. “Zep can help. He loves playing with matches so I'm sure he'll enjoy getting the grill started.”

“Thanks for helping,” Pam acknowledged. Despite her annoyance, she was finding it difficult to stay mad at Apple. The teenage girl was simply too well-mannered and sweet. “Thanks for cleaning up the kitchen too. I don't know where I would have found time for that.”

By the time Pam slid the lasagna into the oven to bake, she had managed to burn herself twice and splatter tomato sauce all over her clean shirt. She went upstairs to change into something more presentable for dinner. Finding a new outfit meant lugging her suitcase from where she left it on the landing to the third floor, where she found Jeremy reclining in the rolling computer chair and racing from one side of the room to the other. He stopped what he was doing when she entered. She could still see the hurt in his face before he looked away.

There was an uncomfortable silence between them. Clearing her throat, Pam told him, “I'm sleeping up here.” When he didn't respond, she continued, “Apple asked me to switch with Zep. Don't tell your dad or Marla, okay?”

Still not speaking, Jeremy just shrugged. Propping his feet against the wall, he pushed off hard and zipped across the room in the computer chair.

“Jeremy, don't do that,” Pam said, even more tired now. “You're leaving marks all over the hardwood floor.” Defiantly, he launched himself one last time, thudding to a stop by jamming a foot into the wall. Pam shook her head and opened her suitcase. As she rooted through her packed clothes, he took a running start and launched himself into the upper bunk.

Once again, Pam mentally counted to ten before saying anything. “Why do you have to be so destructive?” she said, covering her eyes. “Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. Can you please go clean up?” Jeremy slid off the bed with a resentful thump and stalked out of the room.

Returning to her suitcase, Pam picked out a fresh pair of jeans and the least wrinkled shirt she could find. It felt good to shed her soiled clothes. After a quick stop in the bathroom to powder her nose and freshen up, she returned to the kitchen to check on the oven. Marla, however, had beaten her to it. The lasagna, bubbling under a beautifully browned top of crusted (and dairy-free) cheese, filled the kitchen with a tantalizing scent.

“Pam!” Marla greeted her. “Thank you so much for taking care of dinner. Why don't you have a seat? I'll take care of serving.”

William, Apple and Zep were already waiting at the dinner table. Zep had once again downshifted into less-threatening boyfriend mode by removing his piercings and donning a plain black t-shirt. Despite his best efforts, he still appeared out of place at the formal dinner table with its cloth napkins, crystal glasses and polished antique silverware.

“I didn't know dinner was going to be this fancy,” Pam commented, slipping into a chair.

“Marla was raised in the south,” William explained as Jeremy walked into the room. He hesitated a moment before choosing the spot next to Apple.

“Jeremy, that's Marla's chair,” his dad said. “Why don't you sit over here next to Pam?”

“I'd rather sit here,” Jeremy said. He gave Pam a defiant look. She responded with a steely gaze of her own. Knowing it was juvenile, Pam nevertheless felt a hint of satisfaction when he looked away first.

“Okay, suit yourself,” William sighed. He transferred Marla's wine glass to the last empty spot next to Pam.

Dinner was a tedious affair. Despite winning praise for the lasagna, Pam passed the hour by tamping down her annoyance with Marla's inane chit-chat and Jeremy's newfound admiration for Apple. He picked the tomatoes out of his salad and deposited them on Apple's plate. She returned the favor by spooning the ice cubes from her water glass and transferring them to his. The sound of Jeremy crunching on his ice cubes was like fingernails on a chalkboard, but no one else seemed to notice.

Half-heartedly, Pam pushed her food around on her plate, not really hungry enough to eat. She wondered what Apple could possibly see in Jeremy. His shirt sported an unidentifiable food stain that wasn't even from this meal. Every time Jeremy made eye contact with Apple, he would self-consciously straighten his hair. Pam attempted to keep track, but he did it so often that she soon lost count. Remembering Apple's remark about his eyelashes, she suddenly noticed how he often he batted them at her as they spoke.

Well, except around her. When they were back home, Pam was quite accustomed to being the center of his attention and affection.

Despite her distaste for the entire affair, Pam politely waited until after dessert to excuse herself. Heading upstairs, she took a long and hot shower which was, quite possibly, the first good thing to happen all day. After she was finished, Pam retired to the enclosed deck off the mezzanine to allow her hair to air dry. She could feel her daylong headache finally easing and didn't want to aggravate it with a hair dryer. The temperature dropped as dusk fell, but the Florida air remained pleasantly refreshing. Breathing deeply, Pam tried to remind herself that this was a vacation.

Above her, the pink-orange hues of sunset gave way to an obscuring blue in the east. The bare-limbed mahogany tree near the deck rustled with the ocean breeze. Even once darkness fell completely, Pam made no move to go inside. The solitude was a curative.

The ceiling light illuminated the room on the other side of the glass door. Pam watched as Jeremy came up the stairs. She was evidently invisible on the darkened deck because he made no move to acknowledge her presence. He undressed and, wearing only his underwear, began hunting for his pajamas. His lithe body was all skinny shoulders and straight lines. Pam supposed he would one day fill out, perhaps resembling Zep with his muscular arms and developed chest. She shuddered at the thought.

Apparently unsuccessful in his pajama search, Jeremy disappeared into the bathroom and emerged with a toothbrush in his mouth. He wandered aimlessly in his underwear as he brushed his teeth, eventually plopping into the computer chair to spin himself in circles. His toothbrushing was hopelessly intermittent as he paused, lips clenched around the toothbrush, to examine a rock on the desk or swat a moth on the wall. Pam had never before observed his bedtime routine. Now she knew why it took so long.

Several minutes passed. He was brushing his teeth in five second intervals when Pam saw him turn his head to greet someone. Leaning forward, she saw Apple on the stairs. The glass door to the deck prevented her from hearing anything, but Apple appeared to be saying good night. Jeremy waved to her, but then spilled a mouthful of toothpaste onto his bare chest when he tried to say something. The two of them burst into laughter. Pam grimaced.

After Apple left, Jeremy went to the bathroom to clean up. Pam waited until he was in bed, reading, before coming in from the deck. He looked up in surprise when she opened the door. Apparently he hadn't realized she was out there. They only briefly made eye contact before Jeremy returned to his reading. His floppy hair shielded his eyes as he hunched over his book.

Not having anything to say, Pam ignored him and got ready for bed herself. She used the privacy of the bathroom to change into her nightclothes, although the small space made her bang her elbow several times on the wall. As if the bathroom weren't diminutive enough, the cramped bunk bed was even worse. It required minor contorting, but she was able to stuff herself into the lower bunk without banging her head.

No one said anything. The awkward silence filled the room like air in a taut balloon. After a moment, Jeremy began climbing down from the top bunk. Pam thought he was coming down to speak face to face. Instead, he headed for the bathroom. She listened to the sound of the door's gentle click, followed by the sound of the flushing toilet a minute later. Jeremy was climbing back into the top bunk when he slipped. A loud thump shook the room as he landed on the floor.

Normally, she would have immediately checked on him, made sure he was okay. Tonight though, Pam instead turned off her bedside lamp and pulled the sheets up. Trying again, Jeremy gingerly climbed into the top bunk without incident. She listened to him fuss with the covers before turning off his light, plunging the room into a darkness that seemed to punctuate their mutual silent treatment.

It wasn't complete sensory deprivation, but the thick darkness allowed the tension to seep from her body. Finally removed from the long day, she felt the tiniest bit guilty for snapping at him. Pam suddenly wished they weren't fighting. She wished she weren't mad. This was the last thing she expected this morning when she left for the airport. How did they arrive at this state?

The mature thing to do would have been to apologize, but Pam simply couldn't do it. The words sounded wrong each time she mentally composed something to say. Around them, the house grew quieter as everyone else turned in for the night. Lying in the uncomfortable bed in an unfamiliar room, Pam waited for the right words to come. She lay there a long time.

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