Storiesonline.net
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                            A Beautiful Mess
                             by Ken Randall

Copyright© 2009 by Ken Randall


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Description: Anthony Mitchell meets and falls in love with  Charlotte Lawsen. They decide to make a sex movie together, with the help of a few friends. But just how open is Anthony willing to be with the girl who's popularly known as the Queen of Sluts? Unfortunately, the movie is stolen and released to the world. Can love survive being turned upside down by reporters, religious groups, and adoring teenage fans? (This is the tamer, shorter version. For the longer, raunchier version, see "Charlotte's Movie".)

Codes: mf rom reluc tears cheat span 1st oral anal pett squirt size
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Author's Note:

As you may have guessed, this is the re-write of Charlotte's Movie. We'll call it "Charlotte Lite". It's basically the same story with a lot less raunchiness and a lot less of the redundant, tacked-on stroke scenes. This is the bare bones, essential story here. I cut it down to about half it's length. It's now about 700 pages long instead of the previous 1300 pages.

This is the version you'll want to recommend to your friends. All the squicky, dirtier elements are gone from it. It just a romantic story about two young people who have a whole lot of sex, make mistakes, and get through some of the toughest times of their lives.

Those who loved the original we'll be pleased to know it's still there. Let me know what you think of this version as well. I look forward to hearing from you.

-Kr

PS. Acknowledgements to Gary Barber for his editing help.

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Prologue: The Legend


Our school cafeteria had these ugly orange plastic chairs and matching trays. There were hundreds of them too, ugly as hell, all lined up around tables that wobbled when you leaned on them, and usually spilled your drink when things got a little boisterous, as they often did in a typical Frederick Ranger High School lunch hour. I walked with my orange tray through the cafeteria, looking for someone I knew, someone interesting to sit with.

Charlotte Lawsen looked up from her conversation as I went by and stared at me. She smiled and I nearly tripped over a kid who had his chair shoved way out into the main aisle. I stumbled, almost spilling my fries. I smiled back at Charlotte.

"Watch it, man!" the kid said to me.

"Sorry." I answered.

Charlotte had returned to her conversation again.

"Anthony! Over here, man!"

It was my buddy Mick. He was sitting with a guy I'd never seen before.

"Anthony, this is Jimmy. He's new to Ranger. I'm just filling him in on who's who."

Jimmy nodded at me and went back to gawking around at the various hotties in every direction.

"Unbelievable," he said. "How do you guys concentrate with chicks like these around here?"

"You get used to it," Mick replied. "But there are some days when every fine-ass babe in school shows up wearing a short skirt or tight jeans. Then it's agony and ecstasy at the same time." He nodded toward me. "Anthony, am I hallucinating or did I see Charlotte Lawsen checking you out back there?"

I shrugged.

"Who's Charlotte Lawsen?" Jimmy asked. He scanned the rows of seats in the direction I'd come from.

"Blond, stacked like a fuckin' centerfold-of-the-year, about three tables back and two seats over, other side of the aisle. You can't miss her."

"Oh my fucking god!" Jimmy said. Charlotte threw her head back and laughed loud at something a girlfriend said to her. Then she held up four fingers.

"Oh my god, four!?" her friend yelled. Then they all leaned in and spoke more quietly. Gossip, I assumed.

"That, my friend, is the reigning queen of Fredrick Ranger High."

"She got a boyfriend?" Jimmy wanted to know. We laughed at him.

"Charlotte doesn't do the boyfriend thing," Mick said.

"Why not?" Jimmy asked, still staring at her.

"Because having a boyfriend would get in the way of her, um, social life."

Mick said social life with finger quotes in the air and a smirk on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, let me put it to you like this..." He leaned forward, looked around to see if anyone was listening, and spoke in a lowered voice. Jimmy leaned in to listen. "Charlotte Lawsen, that absolutely gorgeous thing you see sitting over there, is a complete and total slut."

"A slut?" Jimmy said. His mouth gaped.

"A slut. If you've got a hard-on, and you don't look like you just rolled out of a dumpster that morning, she'll probably do you at some point."

Jimmy's eyes lit up like a predator who'd just caught the scent of easy prey. I gave Mick a disapproving look. Charlotte wasn't that bad. At least not that I knew of.

"Well, he asked," Mick told me.

"She seems like she's got enough friends," Jimmy said.

"She's actually one of the most popular chicks around. Always has been."

"You mean she's a total ho-bag, but everyone still loves her?"

"She's not diseased or anything," I answered. "But she does get around a bit."

"So she is a ho-bag then."

"Well, she hasn't done everyone, " Mick said. "But she's probably slept with more guys than any other chick in school."

"Like, how many? Ten? Twenty? Thirty?"

"Around twenty maybe," Mick said. "I'm not even sure."

"N'ah. More like ten or so," I added. I was pretty sure Mick was right, but I didn't like the way Jimmy was ogling her like a walking cum rag.

"And she's still popular?"

Mick dipped a French fry in some ketchup and bit it in half.

"Usually people hate sluts, especially other girls, and especially very beautiful sluts like Charlotte. But nobody hates her, not at Ranger High anyway. It's weird. She is a lot more slutty than other chicks, but she does have some rules when it comes to who she fucks."

"Such as?" Jimmy asked. His eyes turned to Mick just as Charlotte glanced over at me. I looked away, nervous as hell, but I couldn't look away long. I looked back and realized she was actually staring at me. Me? What the hell? She smiled again. Then she wiggled her fingers in a little wave and went back to the little gossip session over there. I almost had a heart attack.

"She never sleeps with another woman's man," Mick said. "And she doesn't do the boyfriend thing."

"Nice," Jimmy replied. "You ever done her?"

"Oh yeah," Mick replied. "I've been on the Charlotte ride. That girl knows tricks."

Jimmy's chuckle faded into a low murmur: "Damn..."

"She knows her shit. She's like a sexual encyclopedia or something."

Mick was out of fries, so he grabbed one of mine and shoved it in his mouth.

"Have you ever done her?" Jimmy asked me.

"Not yet. Maybe someday."

A girl named Justine slid into the seat beside me and snatched up one of my fries as well. Jimmy's eyes widened for a moment when she wasn't looking. Justine was yet another Ranger High hottie, a brunette with pretty brown eyes and a fair sized chest.

"Who are we talking about today?" she asked.

"Charlotte Lawsen," Mick said. "Jimmy here is new to the school and he wants to know all about her."

"Surprise, surprise," Justine said. "Every guy wants to know all about her. And they usually find out too, sooner or later."

Justine didn't seem too bothered by Charlotte's reputation, proving Mick's point about her popularity.

"You friends with her?" Jimmy asked her.

"She's awesome. I love her."

"Jimmy, this is Justine Campbell," I said. "She's somewhat of a slut herself, if you're interested."

"Fuck off! I am not!" she said, but she knew I was just kidding. She threw a French fry at me and I had to flick it off my shoulder. "I'm no Charlotte Lawsen anyway."

"So what's the deal with Charlotte?" Jimmy asked. "Why is she like that? How'd she get that way?"

"Nobody really knows," Mick said. "It's a complete mystery. She's almost a legend. We all know what she's like, but no one knows why. She should be a nice, decent, respectable girl. Her family's rich. She's beautiful, smart, talented. But instead of being a model student, she's like, the hottest fuck in school. She'll suck your brains right out of your dick, fuck you stupid, and then walk away bragging about it. Nobody really knows why."

"Wow," Jimmy said.

Justine continued. "They say she lost her virginity, in grade eight. She was only thirteen. Can you believe it?"

"Thirteen!?"

"Shh! Keep it down, dude," I said.

"In the equipment room during gym class," Justine added. "She snuck away with this guy Charley, and they like, actually fucked right there on the mats with like a hundred kids running around playing basketball right outside the equipment room door. Can you imagine!?"

"Damn..." Mick said.

"It could have been anyone. One minute they're just fooling around, the next he's sliding his dick up inside her and she's just letting him."

"Damn..." Jimmy repeated.

Charlotte sat there chatting away with her friends, oblivious to the fact that she was the center of a heated discussion on her apparently lax morals. We were all looking over at her. She was sitting there with her girlfriends, looking totally hot, just talking and laughing and eating her lunch.

"Anyway, after that locker room incident, some girls started treating her like dirt all of a sudden, just because she went all the way with a guy she wasn't even dating. They started calling her a slut, a tramp, and all sorts of other tasty nicknames along those lines. She has a strange confidence about her though. The name-calling seemed to slide right off her without sticking, so they just gave up."

"She's definitely a cool chick," Jimmy said.

"That story spread around fast," Mick added, "and that's when she first became a bit of a legend around here. After that, there seemed to be a new story about her just about every week, and sometimes a couple of them."

"Well if I ever get a chance to do her," Jimmy said. "I'll definitely give it a try."

"Me too," Justine said. We all gawked at her and suddenly had images of a hot girl-on-girl scene between the two of them. She raised her eyebrows at us, grabbed my last French fry, and walked off with a cute little wiggle of her ass.

"I wouldn't mind to get a piece of Justine as well," Jimmy said, watching her go.

"I'm sure her ex, Paul, could tell you some stories."

Charlotte got up from her table and walked over toward us. As she passed by she bent over and kissed Mick on the cheek.

"Hey, sweetie," she said, and then let out this gorgeous little giggle that nearly made me shudder with lust. Mick reached out and gave her cute little ass a nice firm squeeze.

"Whoa! Hey now, Micky. You shouldn't get me all hot so close to class time."

Then she tweaked his ear and was gone. She glanced my way as she walked by though, and raised an eyebrow at me. My heart did a couple of flips and splashed down somewhere in my guts. What the hell was that about!?

I was soon to find out.

"Damn!" Jimmy said. "It's that easy?"

"Well you have to get to know her first," Mick said. "I have. Shit, it was nice. And what a fucking champ at cock sucking too. Wish I could talk her into a bathroom stall right now."

Jimmy was staring off at the table where she'd been sitting. He was lost in thought. I was staring off at a blank wall, still wondering about that eyebrow thing.

The buzzer went off a few minutes later and we all shuffled off like zombies to our classrooms.

Jimmy and I shared the next class and I had to show him where it was. It was English Composition and I was sort of the teacher's pet, so I was in no hurry to get there.

"You seem popular enough," Jimmy told me on the way. "You must get a lot of tail around here."

"I'm fairly popular, I guess. I hooked up with this girl, Trisha last week. It was really nice, and ever since then people have been looking at me funny. I don't know. I guess, treat a girl right and word will get around."

Perhaps that was why Charlotte had been looking at me the way she had. Trish Seares was a friend of hers. I don't think I really treated Trish too awesomely during the actual sex part. It was a quick, five-minute tumble in the back seat of her car at the end of a very nice date. I think she was only doing it because she felt like she owed me something after I treated her so well at the restaurant and after the movie. I didn't really wanna do it in the car, but her curfew was almost up and she insisted. She had no complaints though, after it was over. She kissed me goodnight and I walked into my house feeling kinda weird. I guess that's maybe why we never did have another date.

"Cool," Jimmy said. "I'll have to remember that."

We were at our class and we looked in. There was Charlotte sitting there in the middle row, looking as gorgeous as ever.

"Well, here we are," I said.

"It was nice talking to you, Anthony."

He went in, but I stood staring at Charlotte for a few more minutes. Suddenly Gerri Meskaleck was behind me. She was a pretty young thing, fairly popular herself. She was a friend of Charlotte's. Charlotte was friends with everyone, but there were only about four or five that she shared everything with. Geraldine was one of them.

"Mr. Mitchell," she said.

"S'up, Gerri?"

"You, apparently."

"Me?"

"You were all the talk at our table in the cafeteria. It seems a certain Miss Charlotte Lawsen was telling us all how cute she thinks you are."

"Me?" I sounded more shocked than I wanted to.

"And smart and funny, and what was it she said? You got deep dreamy eyes."

"Really? She said that?"

I suddenly had this Oh my god! feeling flipping around in my stomach. I tried not to let it show, but I think Geraldine could tell.

"Now that I'm up close, I can see what she means. Yummy."

"Um, thanks, I guess."

My brow was furrowed, confused, and I found myself blushing. Had Charlotte Lawsen really said those things about me? Something strange was going on.

"That's private girl talk though, Mr. Mitchell. You didn't hear it from me."

Somehow I got the feeling like Geraldine was instructed to let me in on that little secret though. She opened the door and went in. She walked straight over to Charlotte and whispered something to her that made her smile. I stood there a moment more, waiting for my blush to fade, waiting for my head to clear a bit. Then I took a deep breath, opened the door myself, and joined the class.



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Chapter 1: Concenstraighting


It was a boring class as usual, a Monday afternoon, and I was almost tearing my eyes out. The teacher was going over the marks we'd gotten on our most recent essays, droning on in his thick British accent about how we could have made them better. I knew all the shit back and forth and inside out and was almost ready to fake a brain aneurysm just to get out of there. I was lost in a daydream, thinking about how the big red 'A' on my paper looked a lot like an upside down thong, when he suddenly called on me.

"Mr. Mitchell did fairly well. Perhaps he would be kind enough to assist you with your next draft."

"Huh?" I said.

"Miss Lawsen failed the assignment, my dear boy. Would you be a gentleman and go through her work with her, assisting her in the areas wherein she's having trouble?"

"Sure," I said, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

"There you have it then."

And then he went back to his lecture, but he glanced over at me with a raised eyebrow that seemed to say, "I just did you the biggest favor of your life, kid. I hope you're thankful."

Teacher's pet indeed. Thank you, Mr. Ericson.

When class was finally over, Charlotte stopped me on my way out.

"Anthony! Wait up!"

She quickly gathered up her books and said goodbye to Gerri.

I waited, willing myself not to shake in my shoes like a little boy. She hurried up to me and threw an arm around my waist, as if we were life-long friends. I was about a half a foot taller than her, I realized, being that close to her for the first time.

"Whatever can I do for you, Miss Lawsen?" I said, doing my best impression of Mr. Ericson's British accent.

"I'm so absolutely delighted to make your acquaintance, Awnthony," she responded, doing an impression of her own.

Wow! What a rack she had on her. It was dazzling. Her voice was sweet and giggly too, when she spoke.

"So we're study buddies it seems."

"We are. Though I don't know why he picked me."

"So how ya wanna do this?"

"The library? After school?"

"Sounds awesome! Meet ya there. 3:25."

Then she leaned in and kissed me on the cheek and I felt her soft wet lips for the first time. I was instantly slain inside. But I managed somehow to give her a cool smile. She walked away, her ass swaying in those skin-tight jeans of hers.

Then she was gone around the corner. I went straight into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, trying to calm myself. What the fuck was I gonna do? I could barely even look her in the eye! How was I gonna tutor her?

Two classes later, I met up with her in the library. The place was empty except for a bookish-looking girl who picked out a couple of hard covers, checked them out, and left.

We grabbed a table near the back and she sat quietly while I read over her essay. I could see why she failed it, but I could also see what she was trying to say at least, and she did have some good points.

"You've got two different essays here, Charlotte. Do you see what I mean? It starts out talking about one thing, and it ends on a whole other topic. They're both good points, and well stated, but there's no consistency. And if I know Mr. Ericson, he's all about consistency."

"I was so tired."

She sat staring at me. Her feet were up on the rung between the chair's front legs, her chin was on her hands, her elbows on her knees; she was painfully distracting. I lost my train of thought. I just wanted to do nothing but stare at her all afternoon.

"You just gotta make sure that you end with what you started out to say, and you'll at least pass."

"Can I read yours?"

"Sure, if you want."

She picked up my paper and began reading it.

"A, of course." I almost shuddered. That frickin' smile of hers was deadly. "Looks like I landed the right partner." Then she continued reading.

My essay was about how romance is slowly dying out in our culture as a result of increasing focus on material possessions, how the divorce rate is so high because everyone's working themselves to death just to get more possessions and not spending enough time on the things that really matter—love, romance, friendship.

"This is absolutely beautiful!" Charlotte said.

"Well that's supposed to be how it's done: topic paragraph, listing three main points, then explaining those points, then-"

"No, I mean what you wrote here. It's so true! There's not enough love in the world."

"Nope."

"And you're right, in the end, it's all gonna be just a bunch of people, owning just a bunch of stuff, but no one will be happy. The more possessions we have, the more lonely we become."

"Anyway. Let's look at your essay and try to figure out what your main idea is, and then we'll come up with three points to prove the argument, and a nice tidy conclusion."

"Let's do that, sexy. But I have to run and phone my mom. She's probably wondering why I'm not home yet. I'll be right back."

She got up and I watched her walk away. Her ass gave my intellect another pummeling. I was reduced nearly to a drooling Neanderthal. She glanced back over her shoulder and caught me looking. She grinned and blew me a kiss.

Now I was painfully hard, and my cock was bent sideways in my jeans. The librarian was pouring over an old reference manual behind the counter by the main doors. Other than her, I was alone. I slouched down in the chair and let it breathe for a few minutes. Then I adjusted it again into a more comfortable position.

Charlotte came back, humming happily to herself. She parked her cute little butt down in the chair and just stared at me with a sweet dreamy smile on her face. Her cheek was tilted down across her palms and her hair spilled off her shoulder down into her lap.

"I'm back, sexy."

"I noticed. How's yer mom?"

"Awesome."

"Cool."

"How's yours?"

"I don't know. I haven't called her. She works in the evenings sometimes. I never know when she's gonna be home."

"Cool."

Charlotte grabbed up her essay and looked down at it, flashing her eyes up at me from over the top edge of her paper. Another circuit fried in my head. Those eyes! They were enough to nearly stop your heart, I swear. How much more of this could I take?

"So where were we?" she said.

"You're gonna have to stop that, dear Miss Lawsen. I'm having trouble concenstraighting here."

"Concenstraighting? Oh my god, you're so cute!"

"Sorry. I meant to say thinking straight, but then my mouth went into concentrating at the last second. You're messing with my head."

"Sorry," she said, with a coy little smile. "Go ahead. I'm listening."

We got down to work. We talked. We laughed. We doodled. We made jokes about Mr. Ericson. She was so much fun. At one point we got up and walked over to a book shelf to grab some reference material on the various costumes of different cultures.

"Anthropology: the study of men. Sounds like that's right up my alley."

I grinned like an idiot. "Is there a section on the study of women?"

"That would be gynecology."

I laughed. She smiled.

I scanned across the book shelf as well, trying not to stare, not to leer. But she was so screamingly beautiful—her hair was a golden blond color, interwoven with darker streaks, some honey-colored, some amber, some almost sorta pinkish when you looked closely. It was dazzling. It flowed down her back, almost down to her ass in long wavy strands that ended in angelic little curls. Then there were her eyes. All I can say is wow. Looking her in the eyes was like trying to stare directly into the sun. I couldn't do it for more than a few seconds. They were just too intense.

I was about to bring the conversation back to the essay, but she suddenly reached out and grabbed my hand. It was the first moment of intimate contact between us and it was intense.

"Anthony."

"Yes?"

"I gotta tell you something."

"What's that?"

"You make me nervous, and giddy, and shaky. I'm usually strong and confident and carefree. But I gotta admit, I'm seriously messed up here for some reason. Why do I feel like a nine-year-old girl standing next to her first crush? Why do I feel so naked?"

Silence. Dead silence. I was struck dumb by the softness of her voice, and the touch of her hand. Finally, I looked up from her delicate little fingers caressing mine and stared back into her eyes.

"There it is again!" she said, and she looked away, covering her eyes with her other hand like a girl in a horror movie. But her grip on my fingers tightened. "'Kay, wait. I'm gonna try this again."

She looked back into my eyes. Now my heart was pounding so hard I felt like my head would pop. Of course I was speechless once again.

"This is supposed to be all about lust. Why are you so damn sweet?"

"Well to be honest, Charlotte, it's hard not to be sweet to you. Everything people say about you is true. You really are awesome."

Somehow I managed to maintain eye contact with her as I said that, though my heart was beating like a jackhammer the whole time. It took a lot of courage on my part, but I just had to say what I felt. She deserved the compliment.

"That's cool of you to say. I always thought most people see me as a silly little slut."

She said this calmly and I found that a bit surprising. There wasn't the slightest hint of self-consciousness in her tone.

"Well, yeah, most people do admit you do, uh, get around a bit, but for some reason, nobody has anything against you for it. Every guy I know wants to get with you, and every girl wants to be you. You're like a celebrity, or something."

"And what do you think, Anthony?"

Her eyes were so blue I felt like I was swimming in them. I had to remind myself to breathe.

"I think you're one of the nicest people I know. It's no wonder everyone likes you as much as they do. I'm just surprised more people aren't completely in love with you."

She squeezed my hand harder than ever, shaking once more.

"Now that's definitely the sweetest thing you've said so far." She let go of my hand and turned back to the bookshelf, breaking the intense gaze we'd been sharing. "Honestly, Anthony, I asked Mr. Ericson before class if you could tutor me. He suggested Rhonda Hinkle, but I begged him to pick you instead. I've wanted to get to know you for a while now. I just never had the chance. Now I'm so glad I have. You're blowing me away."

"Thanks," I said, feeling a hot blush on my face.

"And it's not just your sweet words either," she continued. "This essay you wrote ... I was even tellin' my mom how awesome it was when I talked to her on the phone. She says you sound like a keeper, whatever that means. I guess she thinks you're cool too."

She'd told her mom about me. Wow.

"Your mom sounds nice."

"You'd like her."

"Well, if she's anything like you..."

Ugh! That sounded like such a line. As soon as I said it I felt like an idiot again, but she just stared at me some more, blushing a little. But then a strange change came over her, and suddenly she was less nervous and girly and more hungry and intense looking. I almost backed up a step. It was overwhelming, like standing too close to a fire.

"I can't believe you're single," she said. And then she released a heavy sigh. "But I'm so glad you are. It means I can do this..."

She stepped right up to me, pressed her chest into mine and gave me another kiss on the cheek. It wasn't a quick peck that time either. It was a slow lingering smooch. She kissed me like she really meant it. And when she was done, she didn't back away. She kept her cheek right up against mine, eyeing the librarian. I swooned inwardly, and released a slow sigh to ease the tension.

"Next time we're studying at yer house, okay?"

She whispered it in my ear and I felt her tongue flicker out and tickle my earlobe. How I managed to restrain myself is beyond my comprehension.

"It's not studying you have in mind, is it?"

She shook her head. She licked her lips. She slid her hands up my body and shivered a bit.

"Uh-uh."

And then she sucked my earlobe into a wet slippery kiss that sent shivers down my entire being. Her nipples were hard. I could feel them against my chest. I pressed my hands against her shoulders, pushing her away a bit. She released my ear with a slippery snap. Her gaze burned into me. She actually looked as panicked with lust as I was. But there was something more than that as well, and it seemed to be scaring her.

"Okay. Next time, we're at my place then..."

"Yes..."

I couldn't feel my legs. I felt like I'd been cut in half at the waist and twisted around a few times. My turn had finally arrived. I would soon be fucking the legendary Charlotte Lawsen.

We headed back over to our table and tried our best to concentrate on the essay, but it was a lost cause. Both of us were too wound up now to even speak. We just sat there leafing through the books and nervously pointing out funny looking outfits people had on.

That's it! I'm taking this hot sexy little bitch to the nearest bathroom stall and fucking her like a rubber bunny up against the wall. Right fucking now! I don't care how cheesy and low-class and meaningless it is. I gotta have her! No more fucking ar-

"Time to go, kids," the librarian said.

We snapped out of our mutual daze and realized we'd been staring at one another for almost an entire minute, just silently daydreaming our respective dreams. Thank you, Mrs. Librarian! The timing could not have been more perfect. I was literally seconds away from actually jumping up and just going for it, and that would have ruined everything. We would have fucked, dirty, and sexy, and meaningless in a bathroom stall or something, and that would have been it. It would have been just all about lust for her, as usual, and she would have moved on to her next conquest within a week. But it didn't happen that way, thanks to the librarian.

"Okay, so you're gonna have to re-write this. Get it fixed up and hand it in to Mr. Ericson. Do you want me to go over it when you're done?"

"N'ah. I should be able to manage it. But we got this other one comin' up that you can help me with. Let's walk."

We gathered up our notebooks and school bags, and headed for the doors. We pretty much babbled at one another the whole way. I don't even remember what we said. She couldn't seem to stop smiling. She was walking kinda funny too. She took my arm and we walked slowly, talking about stupid stuff like the French fries in the cafeteria, and the ugly orange chairs and lunch trays. Then we talked about the Spring dance that was coming up, how cool the last one was, what kind of music we liked.

When we finally got to the front door, it seemed like we'd been talking for ten hours, and at the same time, it felt like only twenty seconds. I didn't want her to leave just yet. I didn't want her to leave ever. The fresh air cleared my head a bit though, when we finally stepped out into the cool spring afternoon.

"That's my mom over there," she said. "Hope she hasn't been waiting long."

She was parked in a red convertible. The top was down. All I saw was beautiful blond hair, just like Charlotte's.

"So, bye. I hope I was able to help with your essay."

"You did. Thanks."

She was backing away. I was standing there with my books wanting to rush up and kiss her, but I didn't.

"Uh! Silly me! Let me give you my number, kay? Call me and we'll set up a time."

She scribbled her number on the back of her essay, right behind the D-, and she tore it off and gave it to me. Then she kissed me again, this time on the lips. No serious make-out kinda kiss or anything, just a really slow, sweet smooch that teased me with how gorgeously soft and tender and slippery her lips were.

Her breath tasted like berries!

Then she backed away again.

"Okay, good luck with the re-write."

"We're meeting at your house next time, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Goodie. It'll be awesome!"

Finally she turned and hurried to the car. Her hair bounced and her butt wiggled. She hopped in beside her mom and waved back at me. Then they were gone.

Damn, she was beautiful! I wanted to write poems about her, to immortalize her in the history of the world as the most beautiful woman who ever lived. She made me tingle just looking at her. I wanted nothing more than to lay her down on my bed and fuck that tight little body of hers until she screamed.

I couldn't wait for our next study session.



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Chapter 2: The Chained Angel


I had her over at my house a few days later and sure enough we got very little studying done. I'd been nervous as hell over the past few days, waiting for this big moment, but when she showed up at my door, the anxiety suddenly flooded through me all at once. She looked so damn hot! I felt like a nervous little boy, standing before a beautiful Hollywood starlet.

"Wow. Charlotte ... Um ... Wow."

She was fidgeting a bit herself, tugging on these little strings she had on her jeans.

"Um ... hi!" she said. "I'm here."

She had a notebook in her hand and she almost dropped it.

"Yes! Come in."

I watched in a trance as she wandered around my room, looking at my books, my CDs, and my posters. Her perfume smelled amazing. And the crush I had on her was getting more and more serious every moment we were together. It was terrifying. But mostly I felt ecstatic about just being in the same room with her.

"Wanna get started on the next essay?" I asked. I wasn't really interested in homework. I was just looking for something to ease the tension a bit.

She was looking at a poster on my bedroom wall of a bikini girl with a tattoo on her hip.

"You wanna see my tattoo?"

"Sure. Where is it?"

She turned to face me and patted her privates.

"It's right here, on my privates."

Her giggle was intoxicating.

"Really?" I said, suppressing my shock at her bluntness. "Let's see then."

"Kay. Hold on. No peekin'."

She turned away from me, towards the wall. She snapped open her jeans and tugged them half-way down her beautifully rounded ass. Her little red thong came down with them. My heart was galloping once again. She turned around and showed me the front of her privates for the first time. She was completely shaved, and there was indeed a tattoo on that puffy little mound. I could only see the top of it though. It looked like a butterfly maybe, or a pair of cat ears.

"Is that a kitty cat? I can't really tell..."

"Well you can't really see it like this."

She gave me another shy smile and began wriggling out of her jeans, biting her lower lip and panting a bit from the exertion. She turned to one side and tugged the jeans down to her ankles, bending over beautifully as she did so.

From that angle I got my first direct look at her naked ass. It was lovely, round, and shaped like a heart, flaring down from the small of her back into two delicious globes set beautifully atop her silky smooth thighs.

Then she turned around again, blushing like a virgin on her wedding night, and sat down on the end of my bed.

"Come look," she said.

"Oh yeah, the tattoo! Right."

I moved in front of her and knelt down as she parted her thighs, exposing herself to my enraptured gaze. With her jeans still tangled around her feet, she had to lift her legs at weird angles to open herself up to my view. It looked really awkward.

"Wait," she said. "This ain't gonna work..." and she reached down flipped her shoes off and tugged her jeans off her ankles as well. Then she lifted her calves again, waved her legs in the air in front of me, and spread them wide, giving me a proper view.

"That's better."

"Yes. Much."

It seemed kind of surreal to watch her nonchalantly baring her most intimate area to me, simply to show me a tattoo, but Charlotte was a slut after all. She was now naked from the waist down, but we still maintained the casual pretense of simply "checking out her tattoo." My hands were a little shaky and my heart was pounding hard.

"See? It's a kitty."

Yes, it was. Basically it was just the top of the cat's head, with ears and eyes, but where the kitty's nose should have been, her clit was protruding out. It was cute as hell, almost cartoony, but not quite. I leaned in to look at the detail. You could almost see the individual tufts of fur on the thing's head. The artist had even given it a come-hither look in its little feline gaze.

"Very sexy. Did it hurt?"

"Yup. But I've had worse pains down there."

Then she spread her legs even wider, extending her thighs in both directions along the edge of my bed, and suddenly showing me everything. Her inner lips parted lusciously from the movement. I could now see the pink wetness of her inner secrets.

"You're very, um ... flexible, Charlotte. Wow."

"It helps."

Then she giggled once more, and I detected a bit of self-consciousness in her blushing gaze. She released a trembling sigh, and relaxed again, leaning back on her elbows and just letting me stare to my heart's content.

I realized right then how incredibly aroused she must be by all this. She was half naked with a guy on his knees in front of her, gazing down at her puffy pink privates, and for whatever reason, I wasn't just aggressively attacking her and taking her like she was probably used to. I didn't want her to think I wasn't attracted to her. I just wasn't being a little boy about it, gobbling her up like a bag of candy.

"It's very beautiful..."

"Thank you..."

She patted it with her hand, and gave her clit a little wiggle with a fingertip, perhaps prompting me to get on with it. I was too nervous though. So I stalled a little longer. I leaned in for a closer look and accidentally exhaled a hot breath onto her vulva. She shuddered.

"Ooh. Anthony. That tickles."

"Uh, sorry."

"No, that's a good thing, silly. I like being tickled. Especially down there."

Another less-than-subtle hint that I had her full permission to just go for it, but still I held back. It was becoming awkward now though. Things were very near getting embarrassing. Something was missing though. I wasn't sure what, but I just couldn't go for it and dive in, until ... what? I was too stunned to think straight.

Finally I reached out a slightly shaking hand to pet it. She did not object of course. She shivered a bit as my fingertips stroked like whispers over her pubic mound. Her pelvis squirmed and the shy smile on her mouth faded to a relaxed O shape. The look in her eyes changed from nervous excitement to awakening lust as well, and that dazzled me even more, but this time it was her voice that sent chills down my spine when she finally spoke.

"Oh, Anthony. That feels so nice."

The quality of her voice had changed from its usual cheery half-giggling tones, into a lower, more serious, more excited, half-panting. For a moment I thought she could have easily made a killing as a torch singer in some upscale lounge somewhere, but my thoughts quickly refocused when her hand reached down and pressed my fingers onto her clit.

Her eyes closed for a moment at that first touch, and she released a slow moan. I began massaging her clit, watching the entrance to her pussy as though it were the very gateway into heaven itself. I looked up into her eyes and watched her slowly run her tongue over her lips, and that's when I finally realized what was missing: our first kiss. We hadn't even had a real kiss yet, and here I was perhaps seconds away from diving down and kissing the kitty instead.

"I want you so bad," she told me, prompting me to make an even bolder move of some sort.

I pulled her up toward me, very surely and firmly. She swung right up into a sitting position and stopped with her nose an inch away from mine. She gasped. She was shocked, almost frightened for a moment. I stared directly into her eyes.

"I wanna kiss you first."

Then, for some odd reason, she looked even more terrified, like I'd just threatened to shove her into a bottomless pit or something. She didn't back away though, when I leaned in and pressed my lips softly, sweetly, and gently onto hers. And when my lips parted, so did hers. And when the tip of my tongue reached out to touch hers, she met it. Her breath tasted like dew on a peach. Her lips were softer than a peach though, and every little tremble they made against mine tickled like butterfly wings. I reached up and held her face in my hands, suddenly adoring her. Suddenly my crush was bursting its restraints. All my insides were flying around in a sexy chaos.

Finally I pulled back and just stared at her.

"Why do you look so panicked?" I asked.

"I never been kissed like that before."

"What do you mean?"

"Usually guys are just kissin' me just 'cause they're supposed to, on their way down to the real fun, if ya know what I mean."

"That's a fuckin' tragedy, Charlotte. Your kisses are like ... angels and flames and falling and tumbling and knowing..."

She swallowed. She blinked. Her lip trembled a bit in a confused little frown. She looked terrified and bewildered, like she was about to be slain.

"Knowing?"

"Let me kiss you again, and I'll tell you."

"Kay..."

Her kisses were like flaming angels, falling and tumbling out of the sky, shot down with arrows of chaos and the death of logic and reason, and yet somehow you knew that everything was gonna be okay. That you would land safely on the ground and not be hurt except for feeling like you nearly died. I told her this when we broke the kiss once more. She blinked at me, stricken with awe. She didn't speak.

"If only I could chain those angels down somehow, make that feeling mine forever."

"Angels aren't so beautiful when they're chained down though," she said, breathing softly against my lips.

"There's the problem, isn't it?"

"Kiss me again. Maybe we could figure it out."

The kissing went on for almost half an hour. I still had my pants on, and Charlotte still had her top on, but she'd shucked off my shirt at some point and was kissing and caressing me all over my chest. Then I moved above her again, pressing her down onto her back and reaching down to caress her kitty again. This broke the romantic spell at last and fired up some of our more basic lusts. I didn't mind though. We were both ready to move on.

I wriggled down between her thighs, kissing her all over as I went, and faced the kitty nose-to-nose. I flicked my tongue out to smear wetness across its nub. She flinched as though in pain for a moment, but her gasp faded into a long sweet sigh, followed by her customary half-giggle.

I flicked at it again, and then licked it more directly, more purposefully. Then I bowed my head lower and was kissing her kitty on its sweet little nose. Her hands found my head and her bottom lifted right off the mattress for a moment. She caressed me with desperate adoration. Certain touches made her moan, others made her thrust herself upward against my mouth; it was heaven indeed, pleasuring her so easily, and listening to her crying out with the intensity of it.

She climaxed with a sweet series of gasps, sexy little yelps, and a long moan that eased into a growl of pleasure. She shook, bucked upward, and then fell to shaking again as her body screaming out an emphatic YES! I kept right on tonguing until she finally gripped my head with badly trembling hands.

"Anthony! Ye'r killin' me! Ah! Stop, for god's sake!"

I stopped. She'd had enough. She collapsed onto my bed with a long stammering moan and a drunken babbling of something I couldn't quite make out. I think she was saying she was gonna sexually worship me or something like that.

Eventually, she looked up at me from the mattress with dazed eyes, half-shut with the exhaustion of her pleasure. Her voice was slow and sexy, like she'd just awoken from a beautiful dream.

"You're so very good at that, Anthony. Wow..."

"Thank you. But it's easy to please a girl who lets you know what's working with such hot responses. I've completely bombed in the past."

"I can't even imagine."

I went down on her again. Her kitty was just too beautiful not to, and the way she was squirming just invited me forward. She was not quite over her last orgasm yet though, and she stopped me, shuddering and begging me to let her rest a bit.

I didn't know what to do next.

"You ready for your turn, baby?" she asked after a moment of rest.

Now I was nervous. This was usually the part where girls chickened out and ran away. I was big, huge for my age; my size had prevented me from getting laid way more often than it had been the cause of it. I hoped with all my heart that Charlotte was different. She was the Queen of Sluts after all.

"Here goes nothing..."

I stood up in front of her, but before I could get my button open she sat up and did it for me, tugging my zipper down as well and reaching in to fish out my cock. It was of course much bigger than she'd expected. Her eyes widened, and an excited blush spread over her cheeks.

"Oh my god! That is big!" She said this with half a laugh.

"It's the only one I got."

"Apparently you got two or three here. Trish told me it was big, but oh my!"

"Trish told you about it?"

"I begged her for every little detail. She said you guys did it, and that she was sore the next day, but she never actually saw it or grabbed it with her hands."

"No. She didn't. It was sorta spur of the moment, in the back of her car, and it was over pretty quickly."

"No wonder she was sore," Charlotte said, stroking me up and down with her hands, measuring my thickness.

"Is it gonna be a ... problem?"

In answer, she opened her mouth and slid nearly the entire length of me inside, even taking me partway down her throat. She bobbed gently like that for a moment, massaging me a bit, and then pulled off again, gasping. Her eyes were watering too. I nearly fainted from the combination of shock and pleasure.

"I'll take that as a no then," I said, giving half a laugh myself.

"How could this thing ever be a problem!? Oh my god, it's absolutely beautiful!"

My heart jumped up into my throat, did a triple back flip and splashed down into my belly. My crush had suddenly crashed through into adoration.

She turned me around and sat me on the bed. She began playing with it, admiring it, praising it, and suddenly I felt so much better, so comfortable and at ease. I'm not sure how she was doing it, but my fears and anxieties were quickly melting away. I think it was in her eyes, in the way she looked at it with such desire and excitement.

She measured it with her hands, starting at the root, she wrapped her grip around it, then added a second hand above that. She stroked it up and down, and then weighed my testicles on her fingertips, tickling and fondling them with deft little wiggles that made them dance. Then she was licking them. Then she was sweetly suckling them, and lapping at them like they were ice cream. And then her tongue was slithering its way up along my shaft. Wow. Her eyes flicked up at mine and she saw that I was completely enthralled, owned by her. And she'd only just begun.

She continued these deliciously teasing tongue strokes, kisses, caresses, and tickles until every little nerve ending in my genitals was wide awake and at attention. Then she blew up and down its entire length and I gave an intense little throb.

"Damn, that's sexy," she said.

She then took the head of it into her mouth, sliding downward to cover an inch and a half of its length. All I could do was shut my eyes and sigh contentedly, wishing this moment could last forever. She popped off the end of it, leaving it a deeply impatient red, twitching in time with the excited beating of my heart.

"What is this thing, nine inches? God help me."

And she sucked it into her mouth again, adoring it in her motions and enthusiasm more than any other girl I'd been with my entire life. You can imagine how quickly my affection for her increased nearly to desperation. I was so into this girl. Ooh, damn, she was good too. I had a feeling she was still only toying with it at that point, but already she was the best I'd ever had. She popped off of me, panting a bit as she spoke again.

"I am so fuckin' wet right now, it's like, running down my thighs, and that's just from looking at it! I mean I saw the bulge of it in your pants earlier but I never guessed it was this fuckin' huge! It's like as big as the guys' my mom fucks in her porno movies."

My jaw dropped. Charlotte froze in place, cringing. Whoops...

"Your mom fucks in porno movies?"

She was quiet for a moment, realizing she'd said too much.

"Shit. I wasn't s'posed to ... ah, fuck..."

"Forget it. It was nothing. I didn't hear anything. I won't tell a soul, I swear."

Charlotte looked at me for what seemed like a very long time; she looked like she was searching my eyes for a lie she couldn't find and that was troubling her deeply.

"You're so damn... amazing! You know that?"

"What? Amazing? Why?"

"You're amazing me because I believe you. You're really not gonna tell a soul. I can see it so plainly."

"Sorry."

"Know what's funny? I actually wanna tell you the whole story. I've been keeping it a secret for so long, it's almost making me kooky. I haven't even told my best friends."

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I'm not gonna tell anyone."

"You swear? Honestly, you swear on yer left nut and yer grandmother's grave?"

"I do. I will not tell a soul."

She believed me. She smiled. She kissed me on my left nut and then she lifted her face to mine and kissed me again.

"I love that I can actually trust you. I don't know how or why, but I do."

I shrugged at her. My cock twitched for attention, but there were more important matters going on at the moment. There was an angel chained down to a secret here, and she wanted to be free.

"Kay. Here goes ... Yes, my mom is a porn star, Juanna Lamie. My dad is a director/producer. This is where we got our mansion and sports cars from. This is where I learned everything I know about sex. I suck the best dick in Ranger High and fuck like a minx. I learned it from my mom. She's a total pro."

Thus the mystery of Charlotte Lawsen was finally revealed, at least to me. She was on her knees at the foot of my bed, stroking my cock with her hands, and she told me the entire story. She sat there massaging my cock and talking away about the whole history of her life as the child of a porn star. And what a story it was too.



-------

Chapter 3: The Big Idea


"So now you know. I'm a slut 'cause of my home life. Around my house sex is as casual as eating or sleeping. At any moment mom'll stop what she's doing and go down on my dad, for no other reason than a sudden urge to taste his dick."

"Doesn't that weird you out a bit?"

"Why would it? It's all I've ever known. The first few times I went to visit other kids' houses and found out their families weren't as open and free with sex, that's what weirded me out."

"Musta been crazy."

"Uptight people bug me. I wish they'd all just get with the program: Sex is normal, healthy, and fun."

"So your parents know you're, uh, sexually active, and they encourage it?"

"They encouraged it before I was sexually active. I started fuckin' and sucking just so I would have something to talk about with mom when she asked me about it three or four times a week.'"

"She must have been excited when you finally had a story to tell."

"She was mad at me for doing it right in school, but yeah, she said she was proud of me and wanted to hear all the details."

"I heard about that ... incident."

"Who hasn't? It was all over the school. I know I got a reputation. I don't mind so much. But I'd rather have a reputation as a hot fuck than an uptight little cock teaser That's just wrong."

She stopped to go down on me for a minute or so again, and I just watched her, thinking about how wonderful she was.

"So is it true you gave your first blow job when you were twelve?"

She giggled, with my cock still in her mouth and popped right off me."

"Yup. I gave head to this guy named Brian Scotsland ... son, or something. Skipperson? Skamperstack? Whatever. Anyway, he was fourteen, almost fifteen, and I was so proud of myself that I'd done an 'older' guy."

"Did he know he was your first time?"

"He never asked. He came over to pick up his little sister, who was swimming at my house. Kimmie was passed out in the deck chair, sleeping like a rock. So me and him started fooling around on the couch, and next thing you know, I'm sucking him off like it was my last day alive or something."

She showed me how she did it too, bobbing wildly, yet with a hint of naivety that made it even sexier.

"Whoa. Lucky guy."

"Anyway, he came in like under two minutes. He groaned like he was dying, his dick throbbed hard all of a sudden. Then fwoosh! That was it. I knew exactly what was happening, but actually experiencing it was something else. I let him finish, just reveling the moment, and then I pulled off him and swallowed. He stopped me before I could get my mouth around him again and suddenly got all weird on me. I think he realized he'd messed around with a twelve-year-old girl and got all scared, like he'd get in trouble or something. Anyway, he woke up Kimmie and they left in a big hurry. I was like, what the hell was that about? But it was my first blow job, and I was so excited."

"I can only imagine."

"Anyway, once I started coming home with stories of my sexual exploits, mom stocked my bedroom with sex books, toys, and videos, encouraging me to read, learn, experiment, and practice, practice, practice."

"She hopes you'll become a porn star one day?"

"I doubt it. I think she just wants to make sure I have an awesome sex life, and grow up as healthy and excited about it as her and dad are. So I read all the books, tried all the moves with guys, and even came up with a couple new ones."

She giggled again. And then, seeing my erection drooping a bit, she sucked it to full hardness again, and stroked it with her hand.

"So now you know all my secrets. Why I'm a little slut and proud of it. Hopefully you don't think any less of me now."

It honestly disturbed be to think that such a beautiful girl would have anything to be self-conscious about, but it's a weird world we live in, a world where people would shun and ridicule a nine-year-old girl just for knowing what a blow job is. My heart went all mushy and my head went dizzy. I started spouting off all kinds of silliness that I perhaps shouldn't have, but there it was.

"Charlotte, you're still the same girl I was trying my best not to fall in love with ten minutes ago. Just because I know more about why you're that amazingly mysterious and sexy girl, doesn't mean my feelings will change. If anything I have more respect for you now, trying to understand how you can be so fucking cool."

"If I'm cool, I learned it from my mom and dad. They're honest and up front with people. They have no reason to bullshit anyone. They don't hide anything from people who really matter. The only reason I haven't told anyone about this so far is because they asked me not to, for my sake."

"That makes sense."

"They tried to enroll me in a private school when I was twelve, but when it came time to fill out their occupation, they wrote that they were involved in the adult entertainment industry and the application was rejected. So when I enrolled in our school they told me to keep it a secret just so the staff and students wouldn't treat me any differently."

"Well I'm not gonna say anything to anybody."

"I know you won't. Somehow I just know. You're awesome."

"So have you ever watched your parents making one of these movies?"

"Oh, yeah! All the time. The studio's right in our basement. Lights, camera, action. It's all there. The only problem is, hearing them all fucking down there all hours of the night, when they're behind in the production schedule. It drives me nuts. I get horny as a bitch and can't sleep."

And she once again went back to sucking my cock for a moment, as though driven back into rampant lust by the very thought of these hot porn stars. And yet her eyes were on me the whole time, so maybe it was me that was making her hot. I wasn't sure. So I asked her about it.

"You really like these porno studs, don't you?"

"I don't know. It's more of a schoolgirl infatuation, you know? Some girls like boy-bands, but me, I sit around day-dreaming about porn stars. Go figger." Then she gave her head a shake and looked into my eyes again. She'd been staring off into space for a moment. "But enough about me. Let's fuck about you."

"Did you say talk, or fuck?" I asked.

"Which would you rather do, sweetie?"

I nodded down at my cock, smiling shyly.

"I thought so. Enough out of me. I want something out of you."

Then she was licking me all over again, kissing and tonguing my privates like they were the most precious thing on earth. She moaned happily, like a little girl eating ice cream, and shivered with delight every once in a while. I held her head, adoring the feeling of her long blond hair sliding against my thighs as she moved. I watched her eyes shine with a confident twinkle whenever they flicked up to stare into mine. I felt the vibrations of each little moan she made, and I shivered at the sweet tickle of her tongue when it whipped back and forth across the underside. I sat there wondering if this was really real, and what I had done to deserve so much pleasure in one intense little moment. Even her perfume was intoxicating.

"I guess there's not even a point in me telling you how fucking amazingly good you're making me feel right now."

She paused to respond.

"If ye'r lovin' it, say so all you want. It's music to my ears."

Then of course, she returned to sucking. My head was going gooey with all sorts of weird emotions and I was becoming a little frightened at the intensity of it.

"Aw, damn, Charlotte. You're making me dizzy here. How'd you get so ... uh!"

"From experience," she said. "I've been with exactly twenty-two different guys in some way or another (twenty-three counting you), and each time I find myself getting better and better, more intense, more deadly. Nothing beats an enthusiastic and energetic partner for real sex education."

She continued. My brain went immediately gooey once again and I threw my head back in ecstasy. She was deliberately exaggerating every motion she made though, just to prove the point. And it was working. Her tongue swirled and her mouth bobbed. I would have come right then, if she hadn't stopped with a wet smack of her lips to talk some more.

"Your cock is just absolutely to die for. The skin is as soft as a baby's on the outside, but inside it's as hard as oak. That's damn fine. It feels so good in my mouth I just wanna do nothing but suck on it all damn day. I fucking love this cock!"

"Well, it's fairly obvious you like- Ahhh! Son-of-a-bitch!"

Suddenly I was engulfed in her worshiping little mouth once again, and she seemed to be intent on draining the very life from me, like some sort of starving sexual vampire. I literally cried out loud, almost begging for mercy. Just when I thought she would take it easy on me though, I felt myself sliding down her throat until all of me was gone. Her lips pressed into the base and she bobbed like that for a few moments before pulling off again. She flashed me a look with her eyes that made my heart flip over and all I could do was stare like an idiot. I was near coming again, and I had to stop her, so I asked her the first thing that popped into my delirious little mind.

"You ever been in a—ah! fuck!—porno movie, Charlotte?"

She bobbed greedily on my cock a couple more times, and then broke away to answer.

"Not allowed. Not 'til I'm eighteen. Dad's very insistent about that. He doesn't want the whole world lusting after his little girl. So yeah, no pornos for daddy's little princess."

"I don't mean professionally, I mean just for fun. Just for your own enjoyment. You've never brought a guy home and filmed yourself fucking him with the cameras and stuff?"

"Actually I never thought about that. I should do that some time, just to see myself in a porn scene. That would be awesome!"

"It would be."

"I'm getting wet all of a sudden, just thinking about it. I'd love to see myself getting fucked really hard on screen. That would blow my mind!"

"Mine too. I'd pay good money to see that."

She chuckled at that. "I'd never do it for money, silly. I just love sex—fucking, and sucking, and getting my face creamed like a dirty little porn star."

"Money or no money, I'd love to see you on camera. You did say your mom and dad travel a lot, right? And they got a whole studio set up in their basement. You should go for it."

"That's right! And I know how to work all that shit too. That would be awesome! So much fun!"

Then she said something that changed my life forever. She was sliding her hand up and down my erection when she said it. I still remember the look in her eye.

"Maybe we could ... well, um ... Would you wanna do a scene with me?"

I was speechless for a moment, but then the sight of her full red lips inches away from my cock, and the look of excited desire in her eyes convinced me. At the very least I would have a souvenir of our fucking to remember her by, forever.

"Sure," I said.

"It'll just be a secret though, okay? We can't show it to anyone."

"Of course. Yeah. We'll definitely have to keep it between us."

"Unless of course you wanna do a more quality one. I mean, we could do a cheap fuck scene, or we can make an actual movie out of it. I think that would be even more awesome."

"It's always better when there's a story behind it, even if it's a short little scene."

"So then, we'd need at least two other people."

"Two? What for? Aren't we just basically fucking in front of a camera?"

"No, silly, if we're gonna do a real short film, we need a director and a cameraman, at least."

"How about Steve Henridge? He's in the AV club. He'd love to get in on something like this."

"Can you trust him?"

"Trust him?"

"Not to blab, silly."

"Oh, right. Well sure I can trust him. He's a good kid, kinda shy and quiet. I don't even think he has any friends. But maybe you can help me convince him in your own way."

"What do you mean?"

"Steve's a virgin. If you dole out a few, um, favors for him here and there, he'll be as obedient as a little lost puppy dog, begging for his next treat."

"I couldn't do that! Teasing a guy is just mean."

"It may be mean, but it'll keep him on his best behavior, at least for a while."

"You got a point there. We can't have him running around giving copies to everyone in town, or even telling anyone about it. I'll do it I guess. I'm worried about my reputation though. If people find out I actually cock-teased a guy, I'd be mortally embarrassed."

"That's hilarious. You realize that, don't you? The irony of what you just said?"

"I'm not sure what the irony is, but it's true. I don't want people thinking I'm some sort of manipulative little cock-teaser. That's just wrong."

"I know what you're saying, but if we're gonna do this, we have to keep it quiet, and with a guy like Steve I think a good sexual brainwashing is our best option. I mean you don't have to go all the way with him or anything, but just get him jumping through the hoops, you know?"

"I guess so. It's too bad he can't be cooler. Everyone should be smart and sexy like you."

She went down on me again, showing me just how smart and sexy she thought I was. She worshiped me with her mouth for a few minutes and then popped off again, looking up at the ceiling as though she'd just thought of something more important than pleasuring my beautiful manhood.

"Who's gonna be our director, though? I would do it, but it doesn't really work when you're in the scene."

"How about Sheila Unger? I heard her saying she's secretly into porn at one point. She was a little drunk at the time, but I'm sure she was telling the truth. She's been in a few drama productions too, so she probably knows a thing or two about how to direct."

"You think she'd really be interested?"

"She's a good friend of mine. We've known each other for years. I think she would do it just to chalk up a new adventure. She's cool that way."

"Ask her then. And if she resists, perhaps you'll have to do a bit of pussy-teasing manipulation of your own."

"I'm pretty sure it won't take much convincing. She's a sexy little minx in her own way."

"You guys ever mess around together?"

"Once, but nothing really happened. She was scared this thing was way too big."

Charlotte laughed. "It probably is."

"Shelia is pretty small."

"The only trouble might be if she has feelings for you deep down inside and is bothered watching you having sex with, um, me."

"I don't know about that. We're just friends. Completely. At least as far as I know."

"So things should be just fine."

"Should be."

"Man this is gonna be fun!"

"It's sex. How boring could it possibly be?"

"I have to warn you, making porn is not as sexy as it looks on screen. There's a lot of technical shit involved that make it hardly even sexual in the process of it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, there's all this stopping and starting and waiting, and moving around to better angles and shit. It gets pretty awkward. I've seen the most hardcore studs lose their hard-ons in the whole technical production of it."

"I'm sure the final product is worth it in the end."

"It always is. But it's crazy getting there. That's why porn stars get big bucks for doing something that any normal guy would pay for a chance to do. You gotta be disciplined, professional."

"I never thought about that."

"I grew up with it."

"So much experience for such a young girl."

"The only thing I haven't experienced is you! And you keep distracting me with all these questions!"

"Okay. No more. I promise."

"You're gonna fuck me now?"

Her face went all cute and pouty like a little girl begging for a treat. I nodded, kissing her once again and then simply staring into her eyes.

"You're so beautiful, Charlotte. This is gonna be the hottest movie ever."

She shook her finger at me in rebuke and reached down to pull her top off over her head. Her breasts were thrust upward toward my hungry gaze by her silky little black bra. I reached down to fondle them and she unsnapped the clasp behind her back. They were round, and firm, and magnificent—a sight any young man would have died to see. She pressed them together in her hands and played with them a bit, jiggling them and bouncing them before my eyes, and tickling the nipples into erection with a few flickers from the ends of her soft silky hair; she shivered as goose bumps formed on her flesh.

"Any more silly questions?" she asked me.

"Nun-nuh ... hoomie ... blith ... fleh..."

I was mesmerized into a dull stupor. What could I possibly say? The only thing that mattered was her slippery wet lips slowly descending to relieve my impatient throbbing, and the look of almost drunken lust in her eyes as she glanced up into mine, promising me a waking dream, a heaven that I'd never want to depart.



-------

Chapter 4: Seeds of Love


She reached out and ran her hands all over my chest, humming to herself with anticipation. Well more of a soft moaning than a hum, but it started off as a hum. Then she kissed my chest, my stomach, my shoulders, my neck—everywhere she could reach without dragging me to the floor. She even gave my skin a few flickers with the ends of her hair here and there, but her slippery wet lips and fingertips felt even better on my bare skin. I was tingling after a few minutes. Finally her mouth and hands returned to her key interest: my manhood, the spur of all her deeper lusts.

She went down on me once again, and this time I let her finish. Her mouth and tongue seemed to be everywhere at once. I felt like I was swallowed up in pleasure, flowing and swirling all around me, dragging me toward an explosive climax.

Within minutes it was complete. She felt it coming and yanked herself off me, jerking it to a desperate finish with her hand. It hit her and she began waving her head back and forth, catching it all over her cheeks, nose, mouth and chin. We hollered together, me first, and then her. Our voices echoed all the way down the hall.

"Ah, yeah! Ah, yes! Oh yeah! Mine, mine, mine!"

She smeared it all over her lips and cheeks, then she sucked it into her hot little mouth once again for a few last blissful tongue strokes. All I could do was babble and groan helplessly, drunk with the gooey ecstasy she'd give me. There was a pause while we caught our breath.

"Cut!" she yelled out, covered in my creamy white pleasure. We chuckled at that, although my laughter was a lot more dazed than hers.

Charlotte then proceeded to wipe the mess from her face with her fingers, and lick them clean one by one while I watched. It took her a couple of minutes, but she managed to get it all.

"Did I get it all?"

"Yuh-huh."

She giggled and I was shaken with lust once again.

"You're so silly. You look drunk. But so damn sexy. Yummy!"

"I feel drunk."

"Be right back, okay?" and she disappeared down the hall into the bathroom.

I lay back in a daze for a few minutes while Charlotte got herself cleaned up. I'd never thought a woman could be so gratified by oral sex. Other girls had always acted like it was a chore, like they were doing me a favor even touching my dick. But Charlotte was totally different. It was like she was kissing my very soul and drawing out its essence to spray all over herself, and she totally loved it. That made me feel really good inside.

She came back and stood in my doorway, completely nude.

"Are we ready to feed the kitty now?" she asked. "Kitty's so hungry, she's drooling."

I simply laid back in a daze. I smiled, and nodded, and patted my lap for her to climb aboard.

Climb aboard she did. She crawled up my body until she was face to face with me, and we kissed for a bit more. I felt her toying with my cock as we did, and soon she was stroking the head of me, up and down her slit, wetting it for penetration.

"Kay. Let's see here ... ooh ... there we go."

She popped it inside her; she was soaking wet, and with just a tiny bit of downward pressure, I popped right in. Wow, it was nice. She had a bit of trouble with it, but she managed. She kissed me, panting hard, and her lower lip was trembling. The head got in, and a good length of the shaft, after several slow sexy bobs of her pelvis up and down on me. She gathered me up inside her like that until I hit the bottom.

"Guess ... that's ... as deep as ... it gets," she said, shaking and panting. Her thighs were trembling against my hips as she carefully squirmed on me, moving her grip on me this way and that, trying desperately to conquer the entire length of it.

"How is it?" she asked, as if there were any doubt I was in ecstasy. "You like?" Her hair had spilled down over her shoulders and was tickling my neck. She tossed it back behind her with a jerk of her head, and began slowly grinding down onto me, in delicious little circles.

I just nodded, breathing hard as I stared up into her eyes.

"You're so big ... It's stretching..."

"You mean it's hurting you?"

"Yeah. I like it though. I feel ... little. Mmm..."

She continued her slow and gentle grinding. It felt more like she was milking me than simply pushing it in and out. She would relax herself on the down strokes, and squeeze me tight on the off strokes.

"Ooh, shit. Slow down, please," I stammered. "Feels too good to- Ah..."

She slowed down a bit, but it didn't help. The pleasure was already overwhelming me. Within a few more strokes I was coming with a helpless whimper before she was ready.

"Ah fuck, Char! I'm gonna ... Uh!"

But I couldn't help it. She was just too gorgeously sweet moving all over my cock like that. I let go of my load like a little boy on his very first fuck, only about three or four minutes after we'd begun. She took it graciously of course, but there was a hint of disappointment in her eyes. I gripped her hips and filled her with a mess of ecstasy, then collapsed in a heap on the bed. She leaned down without withdrawing and kissed me all over my chest.

"Damn, I'm good," she said, grinning.

"Uh-huh..." I groaned like I'd been beaten up and she giggled.

"I'm gonna run to the bathroom, clean up a bit, lover boy. Don't pass out on me or anything."

I lay back on the bed waiting for her. My cock was happy, drunken and tingling with pleasure, drooping a bit, but the moment she walked back in, bare naked and jiggling in every place, his head twitched up again. When she came bouncing back onto my bed, kissing me hard with girlish excitement, that got him even more aroused. She was an awesome kisser. Soon he was standing tall and strong, like a soldier at his master's command.

"Ooh, lookee here," she said, and dove down on it with some beautifully hot gliding suction, as though rewarding it for staying strong for her. Then she turned around and wiggled her ass at me, standing on her knees and looking back at me over her shoulder.

She didn't even have to ask. I jumped up off the bed and kissed her like that, with my cock stroking up across her lower back. She rubbed her ass against me, massaging my shaft with that smooth round flesh, and soon I was as rigid as rock again. Then she bent over, dropping her hands down to the bed and arching her back deeply, thrusting her beautiful round ass back at me in the most animalistic invitation possible. And the gentle side-to-side swaying of her backside seemed to agree.

So I did. I guided my manhood back inside her, and worked my way in with less effort than the penetration of our first fuck. She mewled and growled like a horny little slut, almost angrily, but more enthralled with the mindless momentum of the sex.

"Uh ... fuck ... yeah ... give it ... to me ... uh!"

She almost sounded like a cheerleader doing a routine, grunting out dirty little praises to the beat of our sexual music. It was so sexy it damn near melted my brain. I was in heaven. I slowed down a bit and just thrust myself into the deepest part of her, locking it in with a tight grip I had on her hips. She wriggled and wiggled again, urging me on, but I just held her there, dominating her, giving her sharp little jabs with it now and then. But then she turned around and dominated me again with perhaps the sexiest thing I'd ever heard in my life, said in the sexiest tone, by the sexiest girl on the face of the earth.

"Spank me, baby. Smack my pretty little ass. Fuck me hard. Make me your little bitch. Spank my ass. Own me. Make me come."

I gave her an invigorated slap across the cheeks of her ass as I thrust in and out of her. Her flesh jiggled provocatively before my eyes. A pink hand print glowed where I had smacked her. She squealed deliriously at this, so I did it again. I'd never spanked a girl before but something about it was incredibly gratifying. It made me feel more powerful. More in control, though I was being dragged once again toward orgasm almost against my will. I smacked her again and she screamed lustfully, bucking her ass backward into my thrusts, and coaxing me on into her delicious little jiggle.

"Oh, god! I'm almost there. Make me come, baby. Oh, make me come!"

I reached around to tap her clit with my fingertips and tug at her nipples with my other hand, and she came with a wild scream that almost rattled the windows in their frames. She did not speak any intelligible words. She didn't need to. I knew she was almost dying in the ecstasy of her body-rocking climax.

But I yanked all the way out of her, except for the head, and thrust all the way back in to the bottom again, plowing right through her orgasm with aggressive thrusting, over and over. This made her scream even louder and I rammed her even harder when she did. I gave a few more thrusts like this, and finally I came as well.

She collapsed forward with a groan and dragged me down with her onto the mattress, pulling me by my cock down to rest upon her back. I just lay there inside her, loving the feeling her squirming was giving my cock. She did not speak for a long time. She just lay there catching her breath. Finally she offered a single word of appreciation.

"Motherfucker."

Her ass shuddered like an aftershock of an earthquake, and I knew she was feeling some intense satisfaction.

"That good, huh?"

"Nah. I just can't feel my body from the waist down. It can't be your beautifully deep-fucking cock or anything."

"You can't feel your legs?"

"I just feel all gooey and tingly, like I just got out of a hot tub after six hours or something."

"Damn, girl! How in the hell do you squeeze it so tight?"

"I Kegel. All day, every day. It's fun. Keeps me horny as a bitch in heat too."

"Kegel? What the fuck is that?"

She showed me, squeezing her muscles tightly around my cock in a vise-like grip, and holding me there like that for a good fifteen seconds.

"Ow! That's almost painful."

"Kegel exercises, dear boy, are what any self-respecting young woman does to keep all her stuff in good shape."

"They seem to be working."

"I popped my own cherry when I was twelve, a couple months after my first period, and mom told me-"

"Wait a minute! You popped your own cherry?"

"Yup. Accidentally."

"What happened?"

"I was fucking around with one of my mom's vibrating dildos, squatting over it, pretending it was a lover, teasing myself with it, just getting' it in the opening, trying to make myself come just by doing that. All of a sudden I slipped and fell onto it, if you can believe that. It went all the way in—bang!—in one stroke, ripping right through my cherry. Ouch! It hurt like hell. I still tingle when I think about it. I limped for a whole week, and I was too embarrassed to tell my mom. I was only twelve."

"Ouch," I said, wincing at her sympathetically.

"It wasn't a big dildo or anything, but it felt fuckin' gigantic suddenly jammed up inside me like that. It took me like half an hour to get it out too. Every little move I made to pull it out burned like hell. It was awful. When I finally did tell mom, she took me to the doctor and got me examined, just telling the lady I fell on my bike or some shit like that. There was no permanent damage, but that's when I first got the talk about the kegels. I practiced them religiously, every day for three months. Then it just became a habit. I do it now without even thinking."

Squeeze! Squeeze!

"When I finally did fuck for real, I was tight as a fist or whatever it is they say about me. Part of the reason I actually wanted to do it that first time was just to make sure the kegels were working. I wanted to make sure I wasn't broken or anything. Lucky Charley."

"He had no complaints. Neither do I."

And she squeezed me again in thanks. Squeeze! Squeeze!

"Ah, damn that feels good. I'm almost ready to go again here. I bet I'm as messed up tomorrow as he was."

"I think maybe I might be too."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Just fuck me."

So I took her once again, and this time it was slower, sweeter, more sensual, and more verbal. We actually talked to each other the whole way through; sharing with each other how every little movement, touch, and texture made us feel. I can't really explain every little detail of it but it was very intense. We kissed deeply; we stared into each other's eyes, watching the reactions to every little motion and thrust and pelvic swirl. Her eyes would widen, then roll back in a daze, then they would close altogether, then they would flash open in surprise once again when I thrust firmly right into the very bottom of her. It was amazing to watch.

We climaxed together. I told her I couldn't last much longer. She squeezed her sweet sheathe tightly around me and with some intense internal exertion, she was suddenly exploding in the spasms of climax. I thrust a few more times before I joined her in ecstasy. She held me in a tight and loving hug until the orgasm was complete, and to my surprise, she still didn't let me go. My cheek was pressed up against hers, and I felt the wet trickle of a tear. I immediately pulled my face up and looked into her eyes. She was crying. What the hell!?

"You okay?"

"I'm fine, you jerk!" She smiled through her tears, avoiding my gaze. "Ya just made me feel all emotional there. Now I feel all scared and vulnerable, and completely fucking happy at the same time. What the hell did you do to me?"

"I made love to you. I think that's what it's called."

"Well don't fuckin' do it again. I don't wanna fall for you. I can't handle that. And stop looking at me like that! And stop making me want to lay like this forever! And stop making me come every five minutes! I'm aching already!"

Her tone was harsh, but I knew she wasn't really angry. I stirred myself around inside her and she fell to whimpering instead.

"Sorry. Anything else?"

"You could fuck me one more time. That would be really nice. And I mean fuck me! None of this love-making shit!"

So I did.

We screamed when we came, and I think I probably passed out or something, because the next thing I knew, I was lying beside her and she was just kissing my shoulder softly and sweetly. I don't even know how I got in that position.

There we lay, breathing, sighing occasionally, and staring at the ceiling. The clock on my dresser flipped over four whole minutes before she spoke again.

"You're incredible, Anthony. Not just how you fuck—that's amazing and all—but how you made me feel when you were all gentle there too, I actually felt safe and secure and adored, all these pretty emotional things to go along with the sexual stuff. It was... wonderful, and I don't normally use words like that."

"Well feel free to fall for me if you want. I'll definitely be here to catch you."

"I'll think about it. I don't think I'm brave enough, though."

"Brave enough?"

"Yeah. I may be strong and confident when it comes to sex, but for falling in love, I'm just a helpless little girl, too scared to let go of my daddy. I dunno if I'll ever be brave enough for real love. It's way too scary, too out-of-control."

"I know what you mean. It's like there's this incredible pull in me toward falling for you, totally, like a little lost puppy dog, but I'm scared at the same time. Shit like that changes you forever."

"No kidding. I've never been in love. I don't really know what it's like. All I know is it's scary having you at the door of my heart like this."

The door of her heart? Wow! Suddenly I was bursting with joy inside, but I forced myself to remain calm, trying to be rational.

"Let's not open it right now. For all we know, this could all be just hormones talking. We're both drunk with the beautifulness of what just happened. It's a bad time to start diving into bottomless pits. Know what I mean?"

"Totally."

"If we still feel this way, tomorrow, the day after, next week, next month, we'll have to admit something's up we can't ignore, but for now, let's just call it, I dunno... closeness, not love."

The conversation paused as she reflected on this. Then she spoke in a more cheerful tone.

"I'm dyin' of thirst here. Will you offer a lady a drink after all that punishment you put her through?"

I fetched an ice-cold glass of water and she chugged it down without pausing for breath. Then she turned and gave me a deeply appreciative kiss with her cooled lips.

"That's better."

We got in the shower. It was hot and soothing, massaging our exhausted bodies back into relaxation. I got down on my knees and nursed her battered little cunny with delicate strokes of my tongue. She slumped against the shower wall and whimpered out such wonderful praise to me, that I swear she must have been delirious or something. She didn't come, though. She was aching from my abuse of her tender little privates. I apologized when I realized that I might have actually injured her, but she insisted it was a beautiful night. The aching and exhaustion she felt would be her reminder of what a hot fucking stud I was, she said, and she couldn't wait for another session with me ... once she was healed up.

I drove her home after that, walking her to her door, and giving her a nice goodbye kiss. We agreed to continue working out our plans for the porn we would make together, and she staggered into the house like she had been hit by a truck. The last thing I heard before the door closed was her mother greeting her.

"Looks like someone's had a little too much of a good hard cock or two."

"Just one, but oh my god! He was amazing, mom! He did me like six fuckin' times and I..."

That was all I heard. I got back in my truck and headed home with a broad I-just-fucked-Charlotte-Lawsen grin.

I slept like a baby that night and I was still sore the next morning. I got ready for the day. Pain or no pain, it had been worth it. Charlotte is a goddess of everything that is sexy.

I actually missed her the next day too. The emotional connection we'd made was still there, for me anyway. It had not faded with the satiation of my libido. It felt scary and insane, but I managed to distract myself from that fear by focusing on the steaming hot fuck scene we would film together.

It was time to call my old friend Sheila Unger.



-------

Chapter 5: Heat


I laid in bed thinking about a little encounter I'd had with Sheila at a party while I was trying to come up with a way to proposition her for the director's chair of our homemade porno movie.

Sheila Unger and I had been friends since elementary school. She sat in the desk next to me a few years in a row, and we usually walked home together as kids, just talking and being ourselves. There was never anything romantic between us, but we did get naked together a couple of times since we'd reached puberty. We almost lost our virginities to each other as well, but we chickened out for whatever reason.

I'd found some old Playboys my dad had stored away when we were around twelve or thirteen, and we were going up into the hot sweaty attic one summer afternoon to look at them. I was nervous as hell, afraid we'd get caught. She insisted she wanted to see them, so I decided to take the risk.

I opened the trunk and moved an old sweater aside. Beneath it were stacks and stacks of porn magazines in varying states of wear. They weren't really all Playboys. There were all kinds of titles actually. But to a horny little teenager who doesn't know the difference, every nudie mag is a "Playboy".

We looked through the issues one by one, pictorial by pictorial, skipping over all the boring articles and advertisements, studying the private parts in great detail.

But horror of horrors, my mom suddenly called up the attic stairs, "Anthony, are you up there?"

We hadn't heard her car drive up at all.

Sheila jumped away from me as though the magazine had turned into a live cobra or something. I jumped up as well and flew instantly into a chaos of panic.

"Yeah, mom. I'm here! I'll be right down!" I said, trying to disguise my insane fear. At any second she could have started up the stairs, one by one, and caught us in front of a trunk full of Playboys. We froze like deer in the headlights, afraid to make a single sound.

"Well, hurry up. Grandma's coming over and I want you to wash up before she gets here."

"Okay, mom. I'll be right down."

"What are you doing up there, anyway?" my mom asked.

"Just ... showing Sheila something."

"Sheila's up there with you?"

"Uh, yeah. We're were looking at some old clothes, for a school play."

"Well you better not be making a mess up there, you two!" my mom said.

"We're not..."

Then she was gone again.

"That was too fucking close," Sheila said.

I put the magazines away and closed up the trunk, replacing the sweater exactly as it had been. We composed ourselves, and caught our breath. Then we headed downstairs

"Man, you guys are sweaty! What were you doing up there?"

"It's just hot up there, mom. You know that," I replied with a nervous chuckle.

"Want a cookie, dear?" mom asked Sheila.

She reached for a chocolate fudge cookie with trembling fingers. Mom noticed, but said nothing.

School started a few weeks later, Junior High, and we were in separate classes. We were still friends of course, and we said a cheerful hello every time we passed one another in the halls, but we gradually grew apart. We made different friends, and our lives went down different paths over the next few years. Eventually we barely talked at all.

A couple of years later, when we were both fifteen, we happened to be at the same party with a mutual friend whose parents were out of town. As it happens at these high school parties, everybody seemed to be paring-off for private make out sessions in bedrooms, chairs, couches, and closets. There was even one couple on rug on the bathroom floor. Some were already couples when they arrived. Others just made things up as they went along, driven together by opportunity and hormones.

As it also typically happened at these things I wasn't getting any action. The last available girl had wandered off with some other guy, leaving me alone on the couch with Sheila. I resigned myself to yet another party where the only thing I was holding was a beer. I'd known Sheila for so long, the idea of making out with her didn't even occur to me. We were the only two kids in the place who were not all over each other. It worked out okay that way I guess, since we were friends and had a lot of catching up to do.

We spent the first half-hour just drinking and talking about what was going on in our lives. Then of course, we broke into reminiscing about the good old days. We were both getting a little drunk by then, and Sheila said something that surprised me.

"Thanks to you, I'm a porn addict now, Ant."

"What do you mean?" I said, half laughing at the idea.

"I mean I have a whole stack of porno mags at home, a couple of hard-core novels, and even some vids."

"So how is that my fault?"

"You and your fucking Playboys in the attic. Don't tell me you don't remember."

"Of course I remember. But how does that make you a porn addict?"

"Okay, I'm not really a porn addict. I do have a bit of a fixation on it though. Ah, never mind. I'm just drunk."

"But you do have actual boyfriends too, right? You're not just hiding away in books and movies?"

"Nope. No boyfriend." She sighed long and hard. "I finally faced the facts, man. I'm just Chicken-legs Sheila Unger. If I ever land a boyfriend, it'll surely be out of pity."

"I'm sure it's not that bad."

"You don't see any guys lining up to take me into a closet for a sleazy little romp, do you?"

Sheila was a tall, skinny girl with dirty blond hair, and a relatively plain-looking face. She had a really pretty smile when she chose to share it with you, and fairly alluring eyes when she looked at you in a certain way. She did have a little bit of a figure, though she was very thin. At that point, she barely had any breasts, but she had a nice round little bum and a narrow waist. Overall she was kinda cute, but in a little sister kind of way. She wasn't ugly though, like she seemed to believe.

There was a cry of orgasmic ecstasy from a room down the hall, and several of the couples scattered around the house cheered at it. The screams continued. Whoever it was they were really going for it, hard and fast. It almost sounded pornish.

Sheila began making fuck faces and motions, mocking the girl in the bedroom with a perfect lip sync performance of getting rammed really hard. I laughed out loud, falling back on the couch and holding my stomach. But then I just stared at her as she continued. I was suddenly reminded that Sheila was in fact a girl after all, with parts like a girl, and hormones like a girl, and she was apparently willing to use them too. And there I was less than a foot away, with just as many hormones, and complementary parts. Why hadn't I thought of this sooner? Suddenly, in the dim light of some tabletop lamp, I was staring at her potential.

Her performance faded away as quickly as it had started, and she sighed again, chucking a beer cap into the pile on the table.

"Why can't I get lucky like that once in a while? It's not like I have leprosy or something. I may be tall and skinny, and maybe I don't look like Christina Aguilera, but it's not like-"

I'm not sure what she was about to say. I didn't really care. I just grabbed her and kissed her. She looked sorta hot to my slightly drunken eyes, sitting there with her legs slightly parted in my direction, sort of half-slouched beside me on the couch after her sexy performance. So I just grabbed her and kissed her. The hormones had won.

She held up her hands defensively against me at first, but then melted into me. She even let out a surprised little moan when my tongue slipped into her mouth to dance with hers. It was quite a powerful kiss, perhaps Sheila's first. I had no idea. Finally we broke away and I paused, staring into her eyes.

"Why'd you do that?" she asked, a little out of breath.

"I think you have a beautiful smile, Sheila. I always have. You're much prettier than you realize. I just wanted to show you, I guess. And besides, I just had to shut you up from going on about what a loser you are. It's not true and it's very lame of you to say so."

"Sorry."

"You are quite a kisser, though. You can't be that much of an outcast."

"I still don't know why you did that. We're just friends, aren't we?"

"Of course we're friends. I don't know. Does it have to stop there?"

"This is the horniness talking."

"So?"

She looked at me for a moment, thinking. And then she gave me that sweet smile of hers.

Then she kissed me once more. I returned the kiss of course and we slowly slid down into reclining over the couch, with me on top of her.

We didn't talk much more after that. We didn't finish out beers. We just kissed, and kissed, and kissed, until finally my hormones got the better of me and I felt her up. She didn't resist. Her breath became deeper and quicker, and she released a soft little moan.

"Just friends, huh?" she said.

"You don't think this is friendly enough?"

She shut up and kissed me some more.

Puberty had done some nice things to us both in the past couple of years. We found ourselves out of breath with the excitement of fumbling and feeling out the changes the years had made in our bodies. Eventually Sheila was being as aggressive as I was, touching me everywhere, grabbing me, squeezing me, and putting my hands on different parts of her body where she wanted to be touched in return.

A few minutes later I had her bra off and was feeling her up directly. I had moved on to kissing her neck and ears, and was on my way down to her breasts when she finally stopped me.

"Okay, whoa, Anthony. Maybe we should stop now, huh? What is this gonna mean for us later, if this goes any further?"

"You got your cheap feel, now you wanna toss me away?"

I smirked at her, and suckled a nipple into my mouth.

"Um ... okay, whoa ... this getting too ... wow..."

"I guess I can stop if you really want me to."

"No! Fuck that!"

Our tongues met once again, all slithery, and slippery, and exciting. Sheila whimpered into the kiss, and gave no more resistance. The next thing we knew I had my hand down her pants and was playing with her. She was soaking wet and her pelvis was slowly grinding into my hand. Her hands were shaking and her breathing was erratic, like someone was tap-dancing on her lungs or something.

She just moved her pelvis around and around, exploring the sensations of being touched down there by a guy. She evidently enjoyed it very much. Her heart was beating wildly.

Our kissing and fondling went on. One of the couples walked by and headed out the front door, but we barely even noticed. I was getting incredibly turned on by this point. I removed my hand from her panties and unzipped my pants. I slid them down and pulled my cock out. It was now close to its full size. It was long and thick and she just stared at it with a gleam of fear in her eyes.

"Holy fuckin' shit, Ant!"

"I grew."

"No kidding."

After a moment's hesitation she reached out and grabbed it around its shaft. Her touch felt wonderful. I went back to fingering her and she softly stroked me up and down, as though my cock were a little pet placed into her care—a pet she was very cautious of.

"Oh my!" a girl said from across the room. Sheila pulled away instantly, hiding her face, exposing my cock to the girl's gaze. "Oh my!" the girl said again, louder now, half laughing. And she blushed too.

She was a pretty auburn-haired girl, with boobs enough for two. Evidently her boyfriend (or whoever the guy was) had already left but she had stopped to watch me getting my dick sucked for a few minutes. Both Sheila and I had our eyes closed as we enjoyed our intimate act, and neither of us had seen or heard her walk into the room. The girl looked like she'd just gotten fucked. Her hair was all awry and her face was glowing. She must have been the one we'd heard in the bedroom.

I covered myself with my hands and gave her a nervous smile.

"Looks like I hooked up with the wrong guy tonight," she said. "You go, girl!"

And then she stumbled out the door.

"Come on," Sheila said. "Let's go find out which bedroom they were in."

We found one of the bedrooms empty. The sheets were tumbled a bit and the place smelled of sex, but it had a door that we could close behind us. We remade the bed and opened the window to let in some fresh air. We sat down on the edge of the bed and went back to kissing. Then we were pawing at each other. Then we were sliding our hands inside each other's clothing once again. Finally I flipped my pants open again and took my cock out, lying back on the bed.

She returned to softly stroking me with her hand and we just laid there kissing for a while. I was getting hornier by the minute by this time, and more than a little impatient to continue.

I reached into her pants and started playing with her pussy once again. She kissed me more vigorously and moaned into it, but other than that, there was no sign that she planned to advance beyond what we'd already been doing.

I laid her back on the bed, tugged her pants open, and began pulling them down. She actually let me too. To my surprise, she even lifted her ass to help me get them off her. I was incredibly excited now.

The next thing she knew I was going down on her. She was loving it.

"Oh god. Oh god," she repeated. "Oh my god."

It was simple-minded and unimaginative I suppose, but it was how she felt at that moment, and it sounded very sexy.

Then she stopped me. I'm not sure why, but she closed her thighs against me and pushed my face away from her.

"Don't. Okay, stop. Please..."

"Why? Don't you like it?"

She didn't answer. She just pulled me up for a kiss and hugged me like I was the last living man on earth. It was very sweet at first, but I soon found my scrotum pressed comfortably against her soaking wet pussy. She had spread her legs to accommodate the embrace, and had opened herself up to my immediate sexual advance.

I reached down and pressed my cock into her heated little crevice, searching for the elusive little opening that would sheath me so wonderfully. I found it and gave a little push. It stretched, almost opening up to me, almost letting me in, but her thighs snapped shut against me.

"Wait. Oh fuck! Oh wait, wait, wait. Don't-"

I pushed again, struggling against her resistance. She pushed back, denying my access.

"Come on, She. Don't you want to try it? Don't you at least want to feel it in you just for a moment? Just let me put it in for a moment I promise I won't do anything else, I'll just put it in you and keep it still. I swear. It'll be okay. It'll be awesome. It'll feel like a real fuck, deep inside you, so nice and tight. Just let me put it in, and if you want me to stop I'll stop. I promise."

It was a line I'm sure millions of horny young men have used throughout history, and there I was resorting to it as well, out of extreme desperation.

As I spoke I began softly stroking the head of my cock up and down her slit, trying to wear down her resistance, trying to numb her to reason. I brushed it by her clit a few times too, but her legs would not relax. Finally, in exasperation I began outright begging.

"Please, Sheila. Just let me try it once, I swear I'll be gentle and I won't hurt you."

I had my cock at the entrance once again, and I gave it a gentle forward thrust. The tip of the head pressed into her once again and that was all. She slammed her thighs hard against me in resistance, and no matter how hard I tried, I could not go further. I was almost ready to cry.

"Please, Anthony. You gotta believe me, I wanna try this. I really, really want to do it, especially with you. I've wanted to ever since that day in the attic, but I can't. Not now. Not tonight."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not on the pill or anything and I don't want to get pregnant."

Her pelvis was squirming as though in anticipation, and her legs were opening and closing reflexively as she fought with her body's desire to just submit and experience her first fuck without reservation. She wanted it, at least on some level.

What a mess it would be if she got pregnant though. I suddenly felt awful. I was lying on top of her with the tip of my cock pressed against the entrance of her womanhood, and she was shaking and trembling like a frightened little mouse about to be stomped into mush by a giant boot.

Now here's the crazy part. Sheila let out a long deep sigh, and then actually relaxed. She actually changed her mind and spread her thighs wide, inviting me forward into her. I thrust reflexively forward, and stung her again, stretching her opening a bit more, but not quite breaking in yet. She gave a sharp gasp and a reluctant little squeeze of her thighs, but then relaxed again.

"Just do it, Anthony. Go ahead. It's okay. Just be gentle, and don't come inside me, okay?"

She held me tight for a moment and then kissed me as though confirming her permission. She was ready, but now I couldn't do it! I pulled back and was just about to go for it, tearing through her cherry, and sinking it home in one swift thrust, but I stopped myself.

"I'm sorry, Sheila. I don't know what the hell I'm thinking. I'm sorry. We don't have to do anything if you don't want to."

"What are you talking about? Don't you want to do it? It's okay, really."

"No, it's not. I can't do this with you unless you're a hundred percent certain about it."

"I am certain! I want it. Really I do. It was actually starting to feel good."

"Sure you say that now, but come tomorrow morning you'll be panicked about pregnancy for the rest of the month, and that would just ruin it. If we do it, I want it to be special. No regrets, no worries, okay."

"Quit making so much sense, you dick head. You're gonna lose your chance here."

"The chance is already gone, She. I can wait for another time. I just want it to be right."

I pulled away from her and lay down beside her on the pillow. I gave her a little kiss and just held her, feeling the warmth of her bare skin against my cock.

"Fine ... I guess you're right," she said. "I was kinda lookin' forward to finally getting some for a moment there, but now I don't know. I know you're right, but now I feel like I'm right back where I started from: Chicken-legs Unger, the perpetual virgin. God, I'm never gonna be normal!"

"Don't worry about it, Sheila. We'll try again when the situation is right."

I drove her home and went home myself to fly into frantic fits of masturbation, agonized at how close I had come to actually having real sex once again. If we had actually gone through with it, it would have been my first real fuck.

Sheila and I never did hook up again. We just went back to the way things had been before. We told ourselves that we were just drunk and that it never should have gone that far in the first place, not with a good friend. Suffice it to say that she remained a virgin, at least as far as I knew, while I moved on to my diverse sexual exploits, eventually leading up to my encounter with Charlotte.

I had no idea how I should approach Sheila about the movie, but if Charlotte was right, if Sheila had in fact been masturbating over me ever since that night we almost went all the way, then it would be as easy as slicing pie. The only question was how to bring it up with her?



-------

Chapter 6: The Return


I called Sheila on the phone, just to say hi. We chatted for quite a while. She was very happy to hear from me.

"This is great talking to you like this, Ant. I miss you sometimes, you know."

"We should get together again, She. I miss hanging out with you."

"Well I'm busy tonight with my horde of male love slaves here, but tomorrow's good."

"Horde of male love slaves?"

"Just kidding. I'm babysitting."

"Oh, cool. But tomorrow's good?"

"Sure."

"Mostly I just wanna talk, She. Something important's come up and I wanted to run it by you."

"Alright."

There was a short pause.

"So are you still hooked on porn or what?" I asked, hoping to bring the conversation around to the main point of the call.

"Yup, and it's worse now too. I've got a whole trunk of magazines just like your dad, and a bunch of vids too. It's getting hard to hide them from my mom. I think she knows though."

"Shit you're gonna have to start making your own pornography eventually."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Maybe the world will run out or something."

"Yeah, right. That's not likely to happen anytime soon."

"Well maybe the normal stuff just won't satisfy you any more."

"Ah. I'm not hard to please. Just show me a pair of dazzling blue eyes and I'm done in minutes."

"So you must be still a virgin, I guess. You never mentioned anything, but I've seen you around school with a guy now and then."

"I know it's pathetic. I'm like the only chick in school who hasn't lost it yet. I guess I just have other things to worry about."

"Like your porn collection."

"No, you asshole. Like school work, babysitting, drama club. I directed this year's school play. It was very time consuming, you know?"

"That was you? It was really good!"

"You didn't see me bowing with the cast?"

"I think I left before the end of it. I had a date or something. Sorry."

"Men."

"Wow, so you're a director now?"

"Surprise, surprise. It's amazing what a gal can accomplish when she's not running around fucking every single guy in school. Not mentioning any names."

The conversation fizzled. We were both lost in thought for a minute. Finally we just agreed on a time for me to come over and we said goodbye.

Sheila met me at the door the next day looking actually quite pretty. She had her hair down and she was even wearing makeup, which was unusual for her.

I walked through the house we'd played in together for so many years, and couldn't believe how small everything seemed. It had literally been years since I'd been in there, and I'd grown halfway to manhood since then. Everything looked miniature compared to the way I remembered it.

Sheila no longer had her little bedroom upstairs. That was now a spare room. She'd set herself up downstairs. She had one corner of the basement sectioned off with dressers, a TV stand, and a computer desk. Her bed was in the corner, beneath posters of her favorite actors and movies. It looked exactly like a teenage girl bedroom, except the walls were covered in dark-brown paneling instead of pink paint.

"Cool," I said.

"You like?"

"I like."

"Well it's not much, but being way down here, it keeps my mom from hearing the wild orgies I have every night."

"Right..."

There was a shelf of videos in a corner next to her bed. They all had non-nondescript black cases and they were numbered from one to fourteen. Across from her bed, a TV, a VCR, and a DVD player. The remote control was on the night table beside her pillow.

"Those must be the fuck flicks," I said, nodding toward the shelf.

"Are you nuts!? As if I'd just leave them out on the shelf like that. My mom would kill me if she knew I had porn."

"So where do you keep your collection of nasty smut?"

"You dirty, dirty little boy. Is sex all you ever think about?"

"You mean there's other stuff?"

She just shook her head. She knew I was just joking though.

"I keep them in a trunk under my bed, silly. I told you that. Don't you remember?"

"Yeah I remember now. 'Just like my dad, ' you said. Very funny."

She pulled the trunk from under her bed. It was dark brown, the same color as the walls, and had a lock on it. She fished a key out of her shirt that she had hanging by a chain around her neck. Very cute. The lock popped open and she lifted the lid. I saw an eight-by-ten portrait of myself sitting on top of the pile. It was an old picture. I'd given it to her almost two years before.

"You keep a picture of me with your porn stash?"

"A girl can dream, can't she?" Her face was reddening, and she swiped the photo to one side. "Here's what you really wanna see."

Beneath the photo were stacks of porn magazines, a dozen or so novels, and just as many video tapes and DVDs. I was astounded. They were laid out in a very organized manner, completely different from the porn stash of the average guy. The other difference was the magazine pile included several issues of Playgirl, and various other women-oriented titles.

"Where'd you get all this stuff?"

"Here and there. I sent away for some of the magazines. I downloaded the vids, and I picked up the books out of used book stores here and there. I've thrown away at least twice as much as you see here. I don't keep the stuff that doesn't do anything for me. This is the cream of the crop."

She picked up a Playgirl off the top of the pile and flipped it open. It was pretty much the same as Playboy, except the models were all well built and well hung men. Then she grabbed a racier mag and flipped over to a particular layout featuring a guy and two girls. The guy had a good nine-inches worth or erection aimed at one girl's mouth while the other tongued at his balls from underneath. He had deep blue eyes, a lot like mine.

"Mmm," Sheila murmured appreciatively. "Now that's a man."

"Give me a few years. I'll look just like him."

"You already do, Ant. Better in some ways."

There was a package of birth control pills on top of the pile as well.

"I see you're adequately prepared now."

"I've been on the pill pretty much since the week after that party. I vowed to myself that that would never hold me back again."

I reached down and grabbed one of the DVDs in the pile. Sheila grabbed another.

"This is my favorite, where this dude name Douglas Devone does Juanna Laime. It's very hot. That guy is amazing."

Wow! There was Charlotte's mom on the cover. I couldn't believe she had a copy. They were pretty famous though. The cover showed Doug Devone, Juanna Laime (Charlotte's mom's stage name apparently) and various other women and men. I turned it over and looked at the back. There on the bottom was a small logo that read Copyright Lawsen Publications. Apparently Sheila hadn't put two-and-two together yet.

"I've heard of those two. They're very hot together, apparently."

"Hot is an understatement. I get tingles just thinking about it. He's just beautiful."

"Wanna watch it?" I suggested.

"As long as you promise not to jump my bones in a fit of mad passionate lust."

"Like you'd object."

Sheila slid the disc into the DVD player, and skipped ahead to one of her favorite scenes. Some guy, Doug Devone apparently, once they showed his face, was fucking a well-stacked lady on a bed in what looked like a candle-lit bedroom. Soft music played in the background and the camera was slowly drifting to the right. It looked very nice. Very high-quality.

Charlotte's mom was hotter than hell, I had to admit. She looked very much like her daughter too. I couldn't believe Sheila had never connected the two of them together. But then again, why would she? The idea is just too fantastic.

The guy grabbed Juanna by the hips and lifted her ass right off the bed with barely the slightest effort. She squealed lustily at this and worked her pelvis against his, meeting his every thrust with a swirling little bucking of her hips. Damn she was hot! How could he last so long? I'd have been coming long ago.

Sheila spoke slowly when she finally broke the silence. Her voice was low and a little breathy. I was pretty sure she was extremely turned on by that point. I was too.

"That's Douglas Devone there. He's playing this guy named Max Wilson, a troubled movie star. He's making love to Jessica Miller a fellow actress, played by Juanna Laime, but his love really lies with his ex-wife who died in a car accident or something. Juanna is just comforting him apparently."

"Oh god, Max!" Juanna cried out. "Give it to me, baby! Make me come!"

"So you just sit around and watch these things all day?"

"I do most of my deeper fantasizing with the porn case closed and locked up for the night."

Her voice had softened even more and she was talking slower and more carefully.

"What fantasies would those be?" I asked, slowing down my tone to match hers.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I would."

Then the cum shot erupted on screen and I glanced back at the TV.

"You really like this Doug Devone guy, huh? Would you do him?"

"Nope," she said, without even thinking about it.

"Really? Why not?"

"I'm saving myself for someone special."

My heart began beating rapidly at that point. Sheila wasn't even looking at me through this entire conversation, but I still felt like I was under a spotlight or something. There was just such an intense energy between us.

"Someone special like who?" I asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she said again.

I felt honored by all this, and burning with lust for the girl sitting next to me, but at the same time I was still in the process of falling for Charlotte. I didn't really have emotional feelings for Sheila, and I had already decided that if she did have such feelings for me, I wouldn't do anything with her. I didn't want to use her.

The porn movie had gotten us both very worked up though, and it would be a deep struggle to bail out now if need be. I was trembling a bit as I considered reaching out to touch her hand.

Sheila stared steadily at the TV screen, not looking into my eyes, apparently as overwhelmed as I was. She took a nervous glance up at me when she noticed me staring. Then she looked away again. She picked at some loose threads on the edge of her bedspread, wrapping them around her fingers and unwinding them, over and over again. She looked up again and this time she didn't look away. Neither did I. Now her eyes were deeper, more penetrating, as though she knew exactly what she wanted, and exactly how it might feel.

That's when we finally kissed. I couldn't wait anymore. I just dove at her, mouth first, and within moments we were wrestling around on her bed, kissing, fondling stroking and touching all over each other's bodies, while Douglas Devone got head from some cute little psychiatrist on the TV a few feet away. Sheila still had the corner of her bedspread tied around her finger and she had to shake it off before she could grab me around the neck and return my embrace.

"I'm afraid you've got a bit of an oral fixation, Doctor," Douglas said.

"In my professional opinion, I'd have to completely agree," the little cutie replied, and then went back to sucking.

Sheila reached up to the remote and clicked the mute button. The house fell silent for a moment, other than our heavy breathing and the creaking of her bed, so she clicked on her nightstand radio and the room was filled with soft music.

Suddenly it was her taking the initiative. She rolled me onto my back on that little bed of hers and got on top of me, nestling her vulva against my bulging erection and giving it a grinding little wiggle. She stared down at me with a hungry little half-smile. Her eyes were all lust though and my cock throbbed against her at the sight of them. She bit her lower lip and dove down to kiss me some more. She had my shirt off and was kissing and licking my chest.

"Oh, Anthony. I want you so bad. I've wanted it for so long. Don't make me wait any more."

She began working my pants open with her trembling fingers, still frantically kissing me. Her hands were shaking a bit, but her face looked incredibly resolved. It was intense. She pulled my pants and underwear the rest of the way down and I kicked them away onto the floor. She even tugged off my socks one by one. I was now completely nude. Her hands slid all over my thighs and stomach for a moment and then finally settled on my privates once again.

Sheila took one last look into my eyes and then ducked her face down into my lap. I felt hot breath first, and then the soft wet kittenish licks of her tongue, up and down the length of me. Then she got even bolder and took long, slow, deliberate laps at it, sighing sweetly with trembling breath.

I could only stammer out weak praise. My breath was snatched away before I could even speak by a sweet suckling kiss on the head of my manhood.

She'd waited so long for this moment; she was determined to explore every inch of me, take her time, and really wallow in the experience of it. My heart was pounding hard and I was beginning to moan a little. This made her moan as well, knowing that I was adoring what she was doing to me. When I opened my eyes to look down at her, I saw her watching me. There was apparently pleading in my eyes because when I looked at her like that, her eyes widened lustfully and she suddenly took it into her mouth all at once.

"Ah, damn..."

The soft cooing and humming sounds she made, combined with the contented sighing she released had the tones of someone who had finally had a life-long dream come true. It's a good thing I was lying down, because I got dizzy for real right then. I shut my eyes again and dropped my head back onto her pillow. I had barely enough strength to move. I reach up though, and stroke her face appreciatively with one hand.

Everything was slow, and sweet, and deliciously pleasurable. For the longest time, all I could feel was her mouth and her hands, around and around, up and down. Then she sped up dramatically for some reason, catching me off guard with too much pleasure. I was suddenly on the brink of orgasm sooner than I'd expected. The stimulation was too much.

Her eyes were closed through my whole orgasm; she was reveling in the sweet sensuality of my climax. She continued, slowly nodding her head up and down. I moaned. I trembled. I hugged her head with my hands. I died there on her bed, yet somehow I was still breathing, gasping actually, nearly touching heaven.

When it was done, she pulled off me and sat up. She stared down at me, never breaking the gaze she held on my eyes. The look of absolute contentment on her face was mesmerizing. She nodded slowly, blinked slowly, and smiled slowly. She licked her lips and then bowed to kiss my erection again. She kissed it lovingly, gratefully, and sensually. Then she crawled up my body, laid on top of me and looked into my astonished face from a few inches away.

She just stared.

"That was incredible..." I said.

"Well you waited long enough for it. I've owed you that for years now."

"I guess it doesn't help to hear me say I'm speechless."

"No, that helps. That's probably a better compliment than I could wish for. You're usually very eloquent."

She was rubbing her pubic mound softly back and forth across it while we talked and my libido was slowly being refreshed by her female attention. I was about to pull her down onto the bed for our first fuck when all of a sudden we heard someone upstairs.

Sheila flinched in horror and jumped from the bed before I could even blink.

"Oh my god! Mom's home!" She was trembling like a twelve year-old girl once again. "Cover up! Hide! Oh my god!"

She threw her blanket over me and slammed her secret sex trunk shut. She shoved it under the bed, along with my clothes that had been scattered all over the floor. She was still dressed, luckily. She clicked the TV off too, all in a matter of about twenty seconds.

"It's my mom and my aunt! If they come down here we're toast!"

"Are you sure?" I asked her, but she didn't have time to answer.

"Sheila? We just stopped in to grab some gift certificates I left here. Are you okay?"

Sheila pulled at her hair in renewed fright.

"Oh my god! She heard you!"

Sheila began running around in little circles all in a panic.

"Sheila, come up here and say hello to your aunt," her mom said.

"You mean right now?"

"Yes now. We're leaving right away."

"You just go," I said. "I'll hide."

Sheila slapped at her face with her hands once again and hurried up the stairs, looking all flustered and hot.

I didn't hear their conversation, but they were gone for quiet a while. Sheila came scurrying back downstairs a few minutes later, and flopped down on the bed beside me as though exhausted.

"They know you're here. I'm not sure how they figured it out, but they were sure acting funny."

"Did they freak out?"

"No, actually. My aunt was standing there sucking on a pickle all provocative like and grinning at me like the cat who ate the canary. What the fuck is up with that? That was so weird."

"You think maybe they came down here and saw us?"

"Did you see them?"

"No did you?"

"I was staring at you the whole time. Maybe they just heard us."

"Maybe they're not as dumb as we think they are. Maybe they know exactly what's going on down here. They were horny little teen girls once too you know. I'm sure they sucked their share of boys when they were your age."

Sheila just sat down on the bed and stared off into space for a moment, as though some new truth were trying to deflower her mind. "Obviously you don't know my mom."

"I definitely think you should talk to her about it later."

"I can't talk to my mom about anything."



-------

Chapter 7: Shadows


I pulled her up to face me and kissed her, quick and sudden, cutting off what she was about to say, showing her my deep and excited desire with my mouth. I'd surprised her and she tensed against me at first, but her resistance faded almost instantly.

I laid her down on the bed beside me, still kissing her as I undressed her. Soon we were both completely nude and she pulled the blanket over us. Our bodies pressed into one another, warm, safe, and secure in her little bed.

I pulled and tweaked at her nipples with my fingers and she glanced down at herself, and then up at me again, as though realizing that she was actually going to be making love. She was in bed naked with a guy, feeling about as excited as a young girl could. I ran my hand down toward her pubic mound; her body tensed beneath my touch. It was very sexy.

My hand fell upon her smooth pink flesh beneath her pubic bone. She was hot, flooded with hormones, and I swirled a finger tip around, coaxing a little more from her. She responded beautifully. Her body tensed once again and her breath caught in her throat. She was biting her lip and moving her body in almost every place. I looked down at her with a sense of awe at the beauty of the female sexual response. She was the picture of raw sensual beauty. She was incredibly turned on and that was gorgeous in my eyes.

I tried to slide a finger in, but she suddenly tensed up all over as soon as I applied pressure to her opening. Her legs snapped shut and her hand grabbed my wrist.

"Ow! What are you doing, Ant?"

She looked at me like I was confused or something. Suddenly I was confused.

"I was just trying to, um, finger you."

"Okay, but you're gonna have to get through my cherry first, and I kinda figured you'd wanna do that with your dick."

"Oh ... Oh! You mean it's right there, on the outside?"

"Take a look for yourself. You can see it right there, covering the opening."

I moved down and looked. She pulled herself open with her fingers and showed me.

"See it?"

I poked it with my finger. It bent inward a little and she flinched.

"Does that hurt?"

"A little."

I poked it again, more tenderly. It was so tiny, so pretty, so pink and pouty. So very wet too.

"It's gotta go sometime. Might as well be today. Might as well be you."

"Thanks, She. I'll try to be as gentle as I can."

I moved back up to lay beside her on the bed and resumed kissing her. I continued caressing her fingertips as well. She shivered and gasped at this, and began gyrating against my touch, moaning softly into my kiss, making my head spin.

I broke the kiss we were locked into and wandered over to lick and nibble at her ears. She turned her face to one side and panted excitedly at this fresh source of excitement. Then I began whispering to her, telling her what I was going to do.

"I'm gonna lick you now, Sheila."

She released a trembling sigh.

"Show me, don't tell me."

So I went down. Down, down, down, kissing and teasing her with my lips and tongue and brushing her all over her body with my fingertips as I made my way to her sexual center. Wake up, flesh! Her skin responded. Goosebumps rose up on her body and her muscles tensed and relaxed beneath my touches. Her breathing was shaky and uncertain, like a diver about to leap into an icy pool. She moved like a dancing flame though, wriggling and writhing under the sensuous tingles I was giving her. She opened her eyes and looked down at me. She looked dizzy, frightened, and intensely hungry, all at the same time.

I kissed her all around her privates before moving in toward the center. I breathed out hot sighs onto her most sensitive parts. She was churning herself around on the bed with almost insane desire, wanting to be gratified completely, to have my mouth fully upon her. I knew exactly how she felt; she had done the same thing to me.

My mouth found her sweetest spot and I pulled at it with my lips, catching her in a gentle tweak, and pulling on it until it tugged out of my grip with a slippery little pop. Her moans lifted to a new peak of intensity and she actually cried out loud with real female reaction for the first time. It nearly drove me mad with lust. I did it again and she cried out again.

"I'm so scared!" she said.

"Scared?"

"I'm so scared..."

"We don't have to do it. We can just kiss or whatever. I don't wanna hurt you."

She shook her head.

"It's not even about the pain. I just feel ... scared."

"Of what?"

"I don't know. But keep going. Don't stop. I have to do this. It has to be you. It has to be now, even if it kills me."

"Well let's just try our best to enjoy it. Don't be scared, She. It'll be beautiful no matter what happens."

"Okay."

"I just want you to know that this is one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. I'll remember this forever, Sheila, and I'll never regret it as long as I live."

"Any time I thought about losing my virginity, it was always your face I saw. Nothing else seemed right."

That was all we said. I went back to kissing her.

The beauty of defloration is the spilling of blood. It's like a blood contract between lovers, the way people used to swear oaths of devotion to one another by their own blood. The man enters her, deflowers her, and her blood spills across his penis. Now I was about to spill Sheila's blood, the source of her very life. She was about to share herself with me in the most intimate exchange possible between two people. I was inspired to start swearing oaths to her, but we were just friends after all. So I gave her my oath of intimate friendship instead.

"Sheila, before we do this I just wanted to say that I'll love you deeply as an intimate friend my whole life. No matter where life takes me, no matter who I end up with, I'll always honor this moment we shared here in my heart. I promise I'll never lie to you or hurt you in any way. I promise to be a true friend always. This means so much to me."

There was suddenly a puzzled look on her face, washing away the mask of heated lust that had been there a moment before.

"You make it sound like we're getting married or something. It's just sex, Ant."

"I don't mean to be all melodramatic about it, but it is a very deep thing to me. You only get one chance to pick your first lover. Every other guy you're with will be in my shadow after this, even your future husband."

"I never thought of it that way, actually. That is pretty major."

"Don't worry, I'm not getting all mushy on you or anything. I'm actually developing a pretty heavy crush on someone else, but I do want to do this with you, and I do want it to be special for us."

"Well in that case, I promise to cherish this moment forever in my memory too, though I would have done it anyway. But for the sake of the moment, I'll make you this promise: I'll love you forever as an intimate friend, and hopefully an occasional lover."

"Yes, I forgot about that. That would be nice."

"Okay, can we do this now?"

I kissed her and she released a weeping little moan into my mouth. I got up and positioned myself between her knees. She spread and lifted her legs, angling her sweet little privates up toward me, and I looked down on them with a lustful smile.

"You ready?"

"Just do it."

I pressed forward into her and it stretched across my advance. She closed her eyes. Her mouth fell open. Her head dropped back onto the pillow. Her breathing quickened. Her legs were shaking. I felt the stringy little membrane I'd seen down there stretching and tearing, slowly, agonizingly, making her flinch with the strain of it. I cringed, hesitant, not wanting to hurt her. She pushed against me and the thing gave way. I was instantly buried a good two inches inside her. She cried out, but it was a subdued cry, more out of surprise than pain. I looked down at our connection. There was no blood that I could see, but it was definitely in there.

"Ow, Anthony. Oh my god!"

I pressed forward and felt her tighten in resistance. She was wet though, and I went deeper. She panted like she was drowning, in between gasps and snatches of breath.

"Owie-owie-owie-ow! Don't- I- ooh, stop! Anthony, please! Ow. Oh, stop..."

I didn't stop. I pushed deeper. Her thighs kept closing against me and I would pull back a bit, massaging her gently until she relaxed again. Then I would advance some more until she stopped me again.

I finally got to the bottom of her and she was crying beneath me, real sobs with real tears streaming down her face. I felt cruel for enjoying it, but it felt wonderful being inside her like that.

"I'm so sorry, She. I don't want to hurt you."

"It's okay. It's supposed to hurt, right?"

"I guess."

"It's all the way in. Holy fuck, that's fuckin' huge."

The strain in her voice as she struggled to speak emphasized the agony.

"My god, that feels so good," I said eventually. "Are you okay?"

"No. Not at all. But don't stop. I want you to finish."

The look on her face was pure agony and straining tension, like I'd knifed her or something and was twisting it around inside her.

"It looks like it's killing you."

"It's ... Ah! ... feels like ... burning ... and tearing ... I can't even ... Ow!"

"And you still want me to keep going!?"

"Just go easy... 'kay?"

"I'm sorry, Sheila. I wanted this to be wonderful for you."

"The pain's just part of the experience, right?"

"I guess."

I pulled out a bit and looked down at our carnal connection. There was blood. It wasn't pouring out of her or anything, but it was smeared generously along the length of my manhood. Sheila looked down too and sucked in half a gasp, still shaking as she held onto my shoulders. Her voice was trembling, like a little girl who was winding down from a good cry.

We kissed deeply, sealing the unspoken blood contract once and for all. Then she reached down to pull my pelvis forward. My cock slid in again, gliding through all the pleasures of her womanhood, inch by inch. I could feel every little texture of it. It was too wonderful to explain.

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut again. Her teeth gnashed together, and her lips curled back in what looked like rage. I was moving slowly in and out of her now and she could barely keep herself from throwing me off and running away screaming. Tears were flowing down her face and she looked absolutely beautiful to me. I went very slowly, trying to calm her with soft words, and gentle sighs, but nothing seemed to soothe her. The only time she relaxed even a little was when I pulled all the way out for a moment and let her rest a bit. Then I'd slide back in again, and her tightness strained again. Her entire being tensed against the pain, but she did not bar my advance.

"You gonna be long? This really kills."

"I don't want to hurt you even worse."

I worked myself all the way in again, massaging myself into the pleasure of her with short strokes, punishing her even more. She punched at me with the heel of her hand, and gnashed her teeth again, but then rubbed my arm in apology when she realized what she'd done. I didn't mind at all of course, considering how badly I was hurting her. I did want to finish up though, so I kissed her, and thrust a little more vigorously once more. She crushed my arms in an agonized grip and broke into weeping again.

"I'm so sorry ... I just wanna finish, okay? I'm almost there."

She nodded and relaxed her grip on my arms. I reached my hands around under her shoulders to embrace her. I kissed her deeply, stroking again, feeling the glorious pleasure. Her body responded of its own accord, in spite of the pain, and she rocked her pelvis beneath me, sliding her hands all over my back as we panted into each other's ears, embracing cheek to cheek. It was a wonderfully intimate moment.

"I feel ... so close..." she said.

"You seem like you're dying though."

"I am..."

Her breath against my neck was hot and sensuous. Our naked bodies slid against each other, wet with sweat beneath the blanket, pressed tightly together in every place. She was dying beneath me, but she was moving in every possible way she could—her arms, her legs, her pelvis, her face kissing at mine as I ground myself in and out of her. I pulled my head backward and felt her lips upon my chest, kissing at me as she whimpered at the ache of even deeper penetration.

"Yes ... kill me with it ... I wanna die..."

It seemed to go on and on. Maybe it just felt like it was lasting forever because every little stroke I gave her made her flinch and gasp and cry out in pain. She worked with me though, moving herself around my thrusts, trying to enhance my ecstasy. The fact that she was in such pain though was making me lose my concentration. I didn't want to hurt her. Every little motion in every little moment was ecstasy for me, and though she was burning up down there with the size of me and the vigor of my motions, I kept going.

"You have to do something for me," I said to her, breathing heavily into her ear.

"What, Ant?"

"I can't seem to finish, knowing you're in so much pain. I need you to find some sort of pleasure in it somehow, or at least fake it."

"Anthony, you obtuse motherfucker. Why do you think I haven't fuckin' thrown you across the room by now?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm absolutely fucking loving this! It's so beautiful you've got me crying like a little bitch, every motion you make inside me is sweet burning agony that's killing me inside. But it's you! And that's fucking rocking my world."

That did it for me. I was suddenly stirred to a brand new lust and I began moving on her like an animal. Suddenly the orgasm was right there. I fought with all my strength to hold my concentration on it, and she screamed out loud, a long loud cry that echoed all the way up to the attic. It was an agonized scream but her eager grinding motions against me betrayed some hint of hunger. Though it killed her, she kept moving with me until finally I gave in, helpless to resist the sweet massage. I fed that hunger with a delirious cry of my own.

I gave a few final thrusts and poured down my release, shuddering from the very center of my being. I was knocked senseless by the sudden explosion of ecstasy, reduced to growling and grunting into her ear. I crushed her body to mine, pouring myself out into her loving embrace. She trembled beneath me, milking me with gentle gyrations, driving me wild. She had never felt a man climaxing deep inside her, but evidently she desperately loved it.

"Oh god ... I feel it ... so deep."

I cried out in the dying of my strength, and finally collapsed onto her, still throbbing inside her. She was still moving beneath me, though I had stopped altogether, and it took all my effort to keep from outright screaming. It felt so good.

"Ah. Ah. Ahhh..." was all I could say. She was hugging me as tightly as her strength would allow and I could actually feel her heartbeat against my chest. We were both panting and covered in sweat, and every move we made was slippery and sensuous.

We slowly relaxed and our breathing wound down to slow panting. We just lay there in each other's arms like that for a very long time.

Finally I sat up and slowly pulled myself from her grip. We winced and gasped at the motion. It was an overripe tickle for me, and a dull stinging burn for her.

"How's it look?" she asked me, cover her eyes with her forearm.

"Messy."

We didn't speak for a long time. I dabbed at her with a towel. Then I wiped myself as well. When it was done, I lay down beside her and we hugged in silence for another five minutes. Finally she spoke beside me.

"I did Anthony Mitchell," she sighed.

"You've been waiting a long time to be able to say that?"

"I always kinda knew it would be you, even before that day up in the attic."

"It was beautiful. Honestly. I can't even describe it."

Her hands were sliding all over my body, relaxing me, caressing me, making me love being close to her like that. She reached down to fondle my cock once more.

"I could really learn to love this little monster ... eventually."

I laughed. I gave her a kiss, a long, loving kiss, full of gratitude and satisfaction, trying to let her know how wonderful I thought she was. I think she got the message.

Now it was time to bring the conversation around to the other reason I'd come to see her—to offer her the director's chair in our homemade porn movie.

"How was that, compared to your favorite porn movies?" I asked, after a moment's thought,

"It was real."

Simple enough.

"So are you cured of your porn addiction, now that you've had the real thing?"

"I don't know about that."

"What do you like about it?"

"I don't know. I like the stimulation of it mostly. I like looking at the sexy guys, and learning from the way the girls do things. There's a lot of things I like about it I guess."

"Would you ever want to make your own porn, as a director I mean?"

"Never thought about it. I doubt I'll ever get the chance, but I suppose it might be a very intense experience. I wonder if directing porn would take all the thrill out of it though."

"Maybe, until you saw the finished product."

"Good point. That would be pretty cool."

"I was told I should become a porn star.

"Uh huh," she said with a smirk. "And who told you that?"

"Someone who's in the business."

"Really? You know someone in the porn business?"

She didn't sound like she believed me.

"Yup, and she said I'd make a good porn star."

"She?"

"Yeah, I was surprised too. I'd never thought about it until then."

"Who told you that?"

"Juanna Laime."

"Yeah right! You know her?"

"Well we haven't met in person, but I've talked to her on the phone."

"No way. As if you know her?"

"Actually she lives right here in our city. Not too far away."

"Okay, that's at least possible. But you actually knowing her? What kind of idiot do you take me for?"

There was a brief pause while I opened the bomb bay doors, readying myself to blow her away.

"I slept with her daughter."

"What!?" she gasped, sitting up now. "She has a daughter? Who is it? Do I know her?"

I was grinning now. She was actually starting to believe me.

"Yes, you do. She goes to our school."

There was a long pause while her train of thought rifled through all the possibilities. All of a sudden her eyes widened and she grabbed me by the shoulders.

"Charlotte Lawsen!" she screamed. "Charlotte is Juanna Laime's daughter!?"

"Uh, huh. I'm surprised you didn't figure that out sooner. She looks just like her."

"She does too. Oh my god!"

Sheila snatched up the case for the porno movie we'd been watching and glared down at Juanna Laime as though seeing her for the first time.

"Granted Juanna Laime is just a stage name. Her real name is Stephanie Lawsen, and she thinks I should become a porn star because of the way I fucked her daughter so good."

"This is too much!" Sheila said. "You swear you're not bullshitting me?"

"Look down at the bottom of the sleeve. There's a logo for Lawsen Publications down there. Her mom and dad own the company. They produced that film right in Charlotte's basement apparently. They've got a whole studio down there, fully equipped."

"You knew this all along, and you didn't tell me!?"

"Well it's kind of a family secret. Nobody's supposed to know about it, and you can't tell anyone either."

"So why did you tell me!?"

"We have no secrets, Sheila. You know that."

"Charlotte Lawsen, the daughter of a porn star. It all makes sense now."

"That's pretty much what I was thinking when she told me."

"And this is why she's the school slut!" Sheila said, like a detective who'd finally solved a great mystery.

"It's why she's more casual about sex than other girls, but she does have rules, She. She's not a slut."

Sheila rolled her eyes, dismissing my arguments as foolish semantics.

"Has she ever been in one of the movies!?"

"Well, no. Not yet, and here's the thing I wanted to talk to you about."

"What, Anthony!?" she asked. She sat bolt upright and glared excitedly into my eyes. "What were you gonna talk to me about?"

I think she was beginning to piece it all together by then. I couldn't tell if she was averse to the idea though. I paused a moment to choose my words.

"Well Charlotte's dad won't let her perform in any of the movies he makes, not until she's eighteen, but she still wants to make one."

"So she's gonna make one behind his back ... with you, and ... you want me to direct it or something, right?"

I have to hand it to her. She's a sharp girl.

"Yes, exactly. So what'd ya say?"

Sheila flopped back down onto the bed again, still bare naked and she just lay there staring at the ceiling for the longest time. I waited for her to collect her thoughts and did not interrupt. When she spoke, she spoke slowly, as though speaking the thoughts as they came to her, one by one.

"So you figured I'd be perfect for this, being an amateur director, and being an avid porn enthusiast, right?"

"Yeah. That was our thinking."

"You mean you and Charlotte picked me for this?"

"Well I suggested you, and she agreed almost immediately. She was very excited."

"I can't believe it! This is too much!"

"You're not mad or anything, are you?"

"Well, no. I'm just shocked. I never thought of myself as a porn director. Well I did day dream about it at times, especially when I was watching absolute crap, but I never thought I'd actually ever get a chance to really do it. I wouldn't know what to do!"

"Charlotte knows enough for all three of us. She'll help you out, if you agree to do it that is."

"Wow. This is amazing."

Sheila looked like she was warming up to the idea. The situation looked promising.

"You don't have to answer right away of course. Just sleep on it, maybe, and come over to Charlotte's house with me in a few days. We can talk about it some more."

"So like, you'd be fucking Charlotte right in front of me, and I'd be directing you guys?"

"That's pretty much how it works," I said. "You would also be helping with the final editing as well, when we're all done. Charlotte insists on doing a quality job of it."

"I wouldn't actually be in a scene or anything?"

"Not unless you wanted to, I suppose. We hadn't thought about that actually."

"No way," she said. "I'd never measure up to Charlotte. I'd only embarrass myself."

"I thought the exact same thing about myself, but what the hell, I'm gonna go for it, just for the thrill of it."

Sheila faded off into a daydream, and once again I quietly let her wander through it. I had plenty of daydreams of my own.

Not much else happened after that. She sent me upstairs to shower and then sent me home so she could take a long hot bath. I told her I would call her the next day and we parted with a very long and loving kiss.

We broke the kiss and Sheila looked into my eyes.

"Well I can't say I'm not very excited by this idea, Anthony. I'm just a little worried about what would happen if this video got into the wrong hands."

"Charlotte and I talked about that as well. We decided that this is just gonna be for fun. We're not gonna show anyone the finished product. Charlotte can't afford to have her dad find out she's producing and starring in porn behind his back."

"I can't imagine any father would be too thrilled about that, no matter how liberal they are."

"Not to worry," I said. "We can trust her."

"Anyone else involved?" Sheila asked.

"Well Steve Henridge. We need him for the technical end of it. Lighting and audio and such."

"Steve Henridge!? That little weasel? He'll rat us out the moment he comes in contact with another living human being."

"Well that's was what I thought too, but we do need the extra person, and between the two of us, I think we can keep him in line. If he rats, I'm gonna beat the living shit out of him, and Charlotte's gonna cut him off of her sexual favors."

"Oh, I see what you're getting at. You're gonna blackmail him into cooperation. That might work actually, being the little weasel that he is."

"He loves a piece of ass. That's for sure, and Charlotte's no run-of-the-mill piece of ass."

"I can only imagine, with a mother like that."

It was pretty safe to say Sheila was more or less on board with the project, and I was pretty sure Steve was slowly being hooked into Charlotte's tantalizing charms. We had our cast and crew. The next step was to come up with some ideas for the scene. If it was going to be quality, a simple wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am wouldn't do. I began dreaming up scenarios as I drove home, and was still thinking about it long into the night, in between thoughts of Charlotte that is.



-------

Chapter 8: Apprehension


I called Sheila again the next day.

"Charlotte wants to get together tonight to go over the details of the movie. Are you free tonight?"

"I'm free if you guys can come over here. I've got a couple kids I'm supposed to babysit. They go to bed around 9 O'clock, so we should be okay after that."

"Well we wouldn't exactly have your undivided attention, though. You can't exactly work out the details with little kids around. Maybe we should do it some other time."

"Yeah, I guess so. Tomorrow's good, I guess."

"Great we'll head over to Charlotte's tomorrow."

"Cool," she said, but she sounded kind of distant.

"What's wrong?"

"Sorry if I seem a little out of it. I'm just dealing with a lot of feelings and stuff. I thought I was ready for this whole experience, but I never realized there was a whole emotional side to it."

"What do you mean?"

"I guess in a way, I've been saying goodbye to little Chicken Legs Sheila, the scrawny little kid that I was deep down inside, up until yesterday. I'm not sure if you understand. I feel like I've lost a part of me somewhere. I don't know how to explain it."

"Maybe you didn't really lose anything. Maybe you're just different. Maybe you just changed."

"Maybe," she said. "I gotta go though. I'm gonna go get back in the bath again."

"So you're sure there's no regrets."

"I'm sure. Everything's gonna be okay. I just need to get through this little funk I'm in. It's not like the books you read. Real life is way different it turns out."

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Okay. I'll talk to you later."

"She?"

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to say that last night was really beautiful for me. I just feel like we're connected on a totally deep level somehow, like a part of you is with me now, wherever I go. Like I'm carrying you around with me in my heart."

Sheila snickered. There was almost a tone of annoyance to it.

"There you go again, getting all emotional on me."

"Sorry. It's the truth though. I was just trying to cheer you up."

"I appreciate what you're saying, Ant. Now's just not the right time to say it. That's all."

"I understand. I'll let you go then."

"Okay. Call me tomorrow and let me know what's going on."

"Sure," I said. "See you."

"Okay, bye."

Then we hung up.

I honestly was a little concerned for Sheila. Whatever she was going though, I knew it was major. She almost never got down like that. It was weird. I decided to talk to Charlotte about it. She would have something insightful to say about the whole mess.

"Stephanie Lawsen here. What can I do for you?"

"Hi, Stephanie. It's Anthony."

"Oh, Anthony. You sound a little down. What's wrong, my dear?"

"You can tell just from one sentence?"

"I'm usually pretty sharp when it comes to reading people."

"Guess that's where Charlotte gets it from."

"It sure is, Sweetie. So what's got you down?"

"Well it's kind of a long story."

"Give me the gist of it."

"Well if you don't mind me putting it bluntly, I had sex a friend of mine, a girl I've known since childhood, and now things are feeling weird between us."

"That's a tough one. Sex is a very emotional thing for young girls, Anthony. It's even worse when it's their first time."

"It was her first time actually."

"Oh, well there you go. That explains it. She's got all kinds of physical and emotional stuff going on right now. She should snap out of it in a day or so."

"That's what she said."

"So why are you worried about it?"

"I don't know. I guess I just felt like she had regrets about it or something."

"Well let me put it to you this way. You say you've known her all your life. So it's possible that she's been thinking about sleeping with you for some time now, otherwise she wouldn't have done it, right?"

"Yeah, she admitted to that."

"So she's doing all this thinking about you, and building it up in her mind as some wonderful, fantastic thing, and it is, in the moment, but then the morning after hits, she's all alone in her bed again, and all of a sudden she feels this big let down. The rush is gone, all the giddiness has faded, and there's just a lot of funny little aches and pains. She's just gotta figure it out, that's all."

"That makes sense."

"Of course it does."

"So how much do I owe you, Doctor Lawsen?"

Stephanie laughed out loud, and her laugh was beautiful.

"No charge, this time. Just hook up with Charlotte. Give her a good spoiling. She's been griping about this Steve guy all day, and I don't know why. If she can't stand him, why's she with him? She should just stick with you."

It looks like I had mom's seal of approval. That was encouraging.

"I was planning to get together with her tonight actually. That's why I called.

"Great. Mr. Lawsen and I are going out at six. You two will have the place all to yourselves. Take good care of her and I'll fucking pay you tomorrow. She's been a little crabby-ass all day long."

"I don't need to be paid. It's a privilege being with her."

"You're so sweet, Anthony," Stephanie said. For a moment she sounded exactly like Charlotte. It was uncanny.

"Thanks," I replied. "It's the honest truth though. Charlotte rocks my world."

There was a pause, and for a moment I was wondering what Stephanie was thinking over there. I was sure it was something good. Having her mother's approval would help a little in Charlotte's struggle with whether or not it was safe to fall in love with me. Having her father's approval would help even more. She was a daddy's girl after all. I hadn't met Ronald Lawsen yet, though.

"Here she comes now. Speak of the devil. Charlotte, telephone's for you."

"Is it-"

I imagined her gesturing to her mom about whether or not it was Steve calling.

"Yeah, it's him."

"Oh good. Just let me walk Steve to the door and I'll be right there."

Steve was still there!? Uhg!

"Well she sure seems glad to hear from you," Stephanie said. "You should have seen the look on her face."

"Cool," I said.

"The poor thing, I've never seen her so stressed out."

"I'll take care of her for you. Don't worry."

"I'm sure you will, Studly Doright. Just remember. Sometimes a gal just needs a little TLC."

"I hear you."

"My daughter is a very lucky gal."

"Well If you ask me, it's me that's the lucky one. The more I think about her the more I feel like I just want to do nothing but take care of her, and make her world wonderful and all that mushy romantic stuff."

The other end of the line was silent.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hi, Anthony."

It was Charlotte.

"Uh, how long have you been listening over there?"

"Mom just handed me the phone, after she told you I was a lucky gal."

"So you heard that big speech of mine, then?"

"Uh-huh," she said. "All I can say is, I need someone to make my world wonderful right about now. I feel awful."

"What's wrong?"

"I gave Steve oral a few minutes ago."

There was an odd silence between us when she said that. I felt an ugly feeling drop into my guts.

"I just feel awful about it, and I dunno why," Charlotte continued. "I've never not enjoyed giving head before. With him I just felt dirty. I had to go brush my teeth and rinse my mouth out for like ten minutes afterward. What the hell is wrong with me?"

She let out a long sigh, and I could hear the emotion in it. My heart went out to her once again. I just wanted to hold her and make her feel all better again.

"We could call the whole thing off if you want. We don't need him. We can just do a lower-quality picture or something."

"No way," she replied. "After all I've gone through. I'm not givin' up now. We're gonna go through with this, and I'm gonna love every minute of it. I owe it to myself after all this."

There was a bit more cheer in her voice at this point, and I felt myself smiling with her.

"It'll be a lot of work though," I said.

"Well mom and dad have a conference coming up next week. They should be gone from like Wednesday to Sunday. That's plenty of time, long as we get all the ground work done by Wednesday night."

"Ground work?"

"Yeah, you know. We've gotta plan the scenes, work out the shots and angles and such, write out some dialog. You know."

"Of course. I was actually thinking about what kind of scene we could do. I want it to be more meaningful, more intense."

"So what'd ya come up with?"

"I have an idea, about a girl who's got a split personality. One personality is wanton and slutty sort of, and the other is reserved and sensible. Trouble is both personalities are in love with the same guy, and they're fighting over him. They eventually make him choose, and he says he loves them both. So in the end she has to reconcile her two personas so that he can have all of her. It's kind of a love story I guess."

"Sounds cool. Only problem is, it might end up being too long. It sounds like a long, drawn-out struggle. Doesn't make for very good porn."

"This is the thing though. The battles take place during the sex scenes. In one scene he's making love to the sweet innocent girl, while her sleazy side fights to get out, and in another scene he's fucking the wild, lusty side of her, while the sweet side is trying to gain back control."

"That's very cool, Anthony. That actually would work, and it would be very cool to watch. Would take some acting though."

"Yeah, I know it's hard for you to be sweet and innocent."

"Ha, ha. Very funny. I can be as sweet and innocent as I want to. I've had to, to keep my daddy happy. He still thinks of me as his little girl in some ways. He's glad I'm healthy, and happy, and growing into a 'fine young woman', but deep down I think he misses the little baby girl I once was. It's so cute."

"I had a feeling you were a daddy's girl at heart. Are you sure you really want to do this whole thing behind his back?"

"Hell fuckin' yeah I wanna do it. I've been wanting to see myself getting' fucked on screen ever since you suggested it. I can't get the thought out of my head. My mom thinks I'm going nuts lately. I've been so giddy."

"She was saying."

"Just please tell me you're coming over tonight," she said.

"I'll be there."

Then she was quiet for a moment, and suddenly she let out a long sad sigh, the same kind of sigh she let out when she was feeling bad about Steve.

"Anthony," she said after a short pause. "Will you please say something sweet to me?"

I thought about it for a moment.

"I don't know what to say, Charlotte. I'm actually at a loss for words here. I mean there are a million things I could say, but it's all stuff you've heard before. I just can't think of anything I could say that would be worthy of you."

"Just say anything."

Her voice sounded sad again, like she was almost ready to cry. I got choked up myself a bit, and I decided to just fuck it all and throw caution to the wind once and for all.

"I think I'm falling in love with you, Charlotte. No, wait. I know I'm falling in love with you. It's silly, and scary and I feel like I'm three feet thick over here, but I can't stop it. You are absolutely just the most amazing girl I've ever known, in every way—sexually, physically, your personality, your sense of humor. You're just like a treasure chest full of every wonderful thing I can imagine. I'm just so scared that you won't feel the same way, and that I'll have to give you up and watch you move on to some other guy once again. If you don't feel that way, that's okay. Don't feel bad. I'm just glad I got the chance to know you. I'm glad I got a chance to open up this treasure chest and look inside."

"I thought we weren't gonna do this, Anthony."

"I know. It's been a crazy day, and I just wanted to get all this out of my head before my brain explodes or something. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. That's the most wonderful thing anyone's ever said to me."

"You believe me though, right?"

"Yes, and that makes it even more incredible."

"But do you feel the same way?" I asked, cringing with anxiety as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

"Honestly?"

"Yes, honestly."

"I don't know. I mean, I don't really know how to explain it. It's like every time I think of you I get all giddy, and everything I love about you goes dancing through my mind and I just feel like I wanna be with you 24 hours a day, but at the same time, there's like all this fear. It's like your on the other side of this big black door and I can feel all this love coming right through the door, but the door is scary, and I can't open it. I'm sorry. I'm rambling a bit, aren't I?"

"Go ahead and ramble."

"I mean I'd like to just open up and say, 'Anthony Mitchell, I love you. I've never felt like this with anyone else before.' It would feel so good if I could just open up and say that, but what would it mean? I'm Charlotte, the school slut. That's who I am, and I don't think I could go on being who I am, and be true to your love at the same time. It's all so confusing. This is all happening so fast."

"Well don't worry about it, Char," I said. "I'm just venting here. Don't feel any pressure to say anything you don't mean. I mean, the silliest thing is, I'm falling in love with you, but I don't even feel like I'm worthy of you. You're just so amazing. You're like a dream."

"There's that sweetness I love so much," she said, and then there was this shaky little sigh that you only hear when a girl is crying. I pressed my head to the wall and closed my eyes. Just listening to her breathing was ecstasy.

"Trust me, Anthony," she said. "You're worthy. If anyone on earth is, you are, and if I ever do fall in love, it'll be with you. I'm just unsure right now, you know? I'm just scared."

"I understand."

"Let's just get this movie done. Let's just have fun being young and wild and fancy free, and we'll see how we feel afterwards, okay?"

"Okay," I said.

We agreed on a time for me to come over. I was messed up inside though. Now I was feeling shaky and weak, and ecstatic and horrified all at the same time. I just stumbled up to my bed and lay down with my face in the pillows for a very long time.



-------

Chapter 9: Expression


I knew where Charlotte's house was having dropped her off there that one time, but it had been at night. Seeing her house during the day was quite a surprise. It was huge. It was a mansion really, with a huge yard. There was a curved driveway, and three different sports cars parked in front of the garage. I felt rather self-conscious pulling my dinky little truck in beside one of them.

I rang the doorbell and waited, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I had my fingers tucked into the pockets of my pants and my shoulders were somewhat hunched when the door opened.

"Hello," a handsome-looking man said. "You must be Anthony."

"Yes," I said, turning to face him. "I'm here to see Charlotte."

"I'm Ron Lawsen, her father," he said, extending his hand to shake mine. He had the crushing grip of a businessman, and I felt self-conscious once again, giving him only a limp little squeeze back. He was a powerful-looking man, and I could see why Charlotte respected him. I wouldn't ever want to be on his bad side.

Suddenly Stephanie appeared behind him. I froze up a bit when I saw her. She was a truly beautiful and amazingly sexy-looking woman. It wasn't so much her looks that dazzled me, it was her presence. I'm not sure how to explain it. She just seemed larger than the space she filled in front of me somehow. She had a big, bright smile and dazzling eyes that seemed to be absorbing the sight of me, rather than just looking at me. I suddenly felt a lot younger than I actually was.

"So this is what you look like, my boy. He's as sexy as Charlotte said he is. Oh my goodness. Come on in, Anthony."

She stepped out to meet me, put her arm around behind me, and guided me into the house.

"Charlotte's been sleeping ever since Steve left. You can go on up and see her if you want."

"Or I can get you a drink, Anthony. What'll it be?" Ronald offered.

"We've just finished supper too, if you'd like a bite to eat," Stephanie added. Their hospitality was almost overwhelming for an average Joe like me.

"Actually, if Charlotte hasn't eaten yet, Maybe I can take a plate of food up to her. She must be ravenous by now."

Stephanie and Ronald looked at one another for a moment, and then smiled at me.

"Good thinking, Anthony," Ronald said. "If you'll excuse me, I've got to get ready. We'll be going soon. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, and tell Charlotte I said to be good. She'll know what that means."

"Will do, Mr. Lawsen," I said.

Ronald walked up gave my hand another shake, and smiled broadly. Then he wandered away into the house somewhere and Stephanie took me by the arm into the kitchen.

"I've gotta say, I'm quite impressed, Anthony."

"How so?"

"Offering to take some food up to Char like that—you scored some big points with her daddy, let me tell you. It takes quite a bit to earn my husband's approval. You're the first one of Charlotte's boyfriends ever to do it. Most boys who come here to see her only have one thing on their minds. They think they're being subtle but it's so obvious. Some of them even try hitting on me. Ron's never had any use for any of them, until now. Very good job."

She gave me a pat on the butt and then she was gone too.

The Lawsens moved through the house, gathering up a few things they needed for wherever it was they were going, and then they headed out the door, arm-in-arm. Stephanie gave me another happy little wave, and then they were gone.

The food laid out across the counter between the kitchen and dining area was somewhat of a mini-banquet. I had trouble believing that they made this much supper just for the three of them, but then I saw a pamphlet for Meals by Montague, Deluxe Catering Service. Wow. They must have ordered in. I picked up a platter from the dining room table and loaded it with all sorts of delicacies, enough for both of us to pick at all night long. I also took a couple of bottles of some exotic-looking fruit beverage from the fridge, the same one Ronald had pulled out of there. I set all of it onto a tray and then I headed upstairs to search out Charlotte's room.

I only looked in three rooms before I found Charlotte's, but they were huge. I looked into the first bedroom, obviously the Lawsens'. The ceiling must have been fifteen feet high at least, and the entire wall was one big window, except for a strip of solid wall in the middle where the bed was. There was a fireplace and a mini bar and a huge canopy bed. There was a plasma television on the wall and a set of home theater speakers on each post of the bed. It looked amazingly luxurious. Everything was black marble and white paint, with chocolate-colored trimming. There were even his and her walk-in closets. I was astonished.

Across the hall from the Lawsens' bedroom was a bathroom. There was a toilet, a bidet, and a truly king-sized bathtub. At least I think it was a bathtub, it might have been a hot tub or something. It looked big enough for at least two people. There were stairs leading up to it, as though the queen herself bathed in there. The ceiling was high in here too and it almost didn't even look like a bathroom. It looked more like a cathedral of hygiene. There were windows up to the ceiling in here too, but the glass was translucent brick shapes, stacked up from the floor to the ceiling. The entire wall opposite the bath tub was one long mirror from front to back. It went from the top of the counter all the way to the ceiling. The room looked huge.

There was another room down the hall, but I heard soft music coming from the door to the left of the bathroom. I decided to check that one out first. Sure enough, there was a beautiful girl asleep on a gigantic princess bed in the middle of the room—Charlotte.

Charlotte's room was all white and pastel pink, with cathedral ceilings and a four-poster canopy bed. It had streaming reams of see-through fabric flowing down on all sides. She also had a plasma TV and a home theater system build into her bed, but the speakers were white, matching her bedposts. There was soft instrumental music playing out of them that seemed to set the mood perfectly for sleeping, some sort of slow melodic saxophone number with a light string section in the background. It was very soothing, and it added that extra bit of ambiance to the whole scene.

She had shelves full of books on one wall and her own little walk-in closet on the other wall. Her windows also went up to the ceiling as well, but there were heavy blinds covering them, rendering the room almost completely dark, except for the soft lighting that shone down from the dimmer-lamps along the walls. She had no posters on her walls, like Sheila did, but there was a map of the world, and a chart of the constellations. That was kind of interesting. I also noticed there was a patio door in the corner, which Mr. and Mrs. Lawsen didn't have. Out on the balcony, between the slats of the partly closed vertical blinds, I could see a high-powered telescope pointed up at the sky. Charlotte's desk was cluttered with mirrors, makeup, and school books, the same ones I had on my desk at home, and they looked kind of strange in such luxurious surroundings.

Then of course the centerpiece, the brightest jewel of the room was Charlotte herself. She was sleeping on the bed, under the soft lights of the room and she looked angelic. I walked up quietly and set the tray of food down on her bedside table. I parted the translucent pink satiny curtains that streamed down from the framework above the bed, and sat down beside her. I just sat there for the longest time staring at her, listening to the music, and watching her sleep. Now that I could see her face, her hair, her lips, her gentle breathing on the bed before me, I realized once and for all that no matter how sexy Stephanie had been, Charlotte was worth passing her up for.

I was suddenly terrified of being so close to her, of the feelings that were racing through me just sitting next to her, close enough to reach out and touch her. I was terrified, but at the same time, I was ecstatic. She was so beautiful it made me ache. Everything inside me felt gooey and giddy and messy. I felt the way a man might feel if he'd just found out he was nearly killed but narrowly escaped, and didn't even notice—terror and elation and gratitude. Mix a whole lot of humility and unworthiness into that, and that's pretty much how I felt, except it had nothing to do with nearly being killed. It was more just simple fear that this might all end badly if I put my heart on the line. But like a man who's nearly been killed, there wasn't a damn whole lot I could do about it.

Yup. I was definitely falling in love, and in spite of everything that might go horribly wrong with it, it felt awesome.

I lifted a pad of paper from the table on her bedside. She had written on it in swirly little girlish writing:

Anthony Mitchell.
If this wasn't real love, 
I wouldn't be so scared.
???!!!???!!!???

It was short and simple, but it said it all. I lifted the pen from the table and I turned the page over. I wrote a poem:

Girl on a Bed

A clear and shining Jewel
on the petal of a pure peach-colored flower, 
drifting precariously on an uncertain stream
above the sparkling ripples
that carry her courageously to unknown ends -
She loves me...

The depth below is scary though.
One slip and she could fall under, 
lost, beyond my reach forever, 
leaving an empty petal, 
drifting down the stream alone -
She loves me not...

A. J. M.

It was a poem about how beautiful she looked, laying there with a somewhat worried look on her face as she slept. It was also about being a teenager in love, and not knowing what will happen tomorrow. I made it up on the spot and was somewhat proud of it.

I put the pen down and put the pad back where it had been then I laid down on the bed beside her, resting my head on my arm, and waiting for her to wake up. I wanted to kiss her, but she was like a beautiful picture before me, in a still and unmoving repose of quiet beauty. She was not a picture though. She was real.

She sighed in her sleep when I reached out to stroke her forearm. I pulled her hand gently to my lips and kissed it. Finally her eyes fluttered open. She did not speak. She just stared at me kissing her hand and I stared back at her. She was smiling.

"I thought I was dreaming for a moment there."

I shook my head. It was not a dream, though it felt like one.

"How long you been lyin' there?" she asked.

"I dunno."

"I'm glad you're here..."

"Hungry?"

"Just sleepy."

"I brought some food."

"Feed me..."

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. She looked chillingly gorgeous like that. I badly wanted to smother her with kisses, but I decided that watching her sweet mouth eating from my very hand would be wonderful enough.

I reached up and selected a slice of carrot from the plate. I dipped it in a bit of sauce and brought it to her lips. She took a little nibble, and opened her eyes once again. There was a smile in her gaze as she looked steadfastly into mine. She took another bite, and I offered her a cherry tomato. She bit into it and some juice dribbled from her lips. I wiped it away with my thumb and gave her the other half of the tomato.

"Thirsty?"

"Uh-huh."

I opened one of the bottles and brought it to her lips. She sipped at it, closing her eyes once again, breaking her gaze into mine. Then I offered her some lightly roasted mashed potatoes on the ends of two fingers. She licked them away and paused to suck gently on my fingers as well. I gave her some more. She took another nibble and then I tasted them as well, finally feeling the hunger I had managed to ignore all day.

We ate together like that until we were both content. Then I wiped her mouth with a cloth napkin and lay down beside her again. We stared at each other, sharing her pillow, silently enjoying the passing moments as we wandered through our thoughts. The music continued, surrounding us in a blanket of serenity. She reached out to touch my cheek, and then she closed her eyes, like she'd wandered into a thought that was too intense for her.

If this wasn't real love, I wouldn't be so scared... 

She opened her eyes again and we just stared in silence some more. Part of me wanted to talk to her, to ramble on about how wonderful she was, but another part of me felt like I didn't need to say anything at all. I could see in her eyes that she already knew I was absolutely adoring her.

Finally I leaned forward and kissed her. She closed her eyes, and I closed mine. Our lips touched and I tasted her sweetness. Her tongue touched mine, very gently, very wet, and I swooned a little inside. We barely even moved in the kiss. We just held our mouths together as though they were communicating with one another by merely touching. I'd never had a more wonderful kiss.

Finally we broke away and we just held each other. My cheek was against hers and I could hear her breathing in my ear. I could feel her heartbeat beneath my fingers on her neck. She was real. She was so soft and warm.

"I want to say it, Anthony. I really do."

"It's okay. You don't have to."

"I really want to though."

"If you really feel it, saying it should be the most natural thing in the world."

"All I know is, I never felt so close to anyone in my entire life. I never had a boy feed me, taking care of me like you do. No one ever touched me like you touch me. I never heard someone say so much without even talking. It's like, you're..."

She trailed off, at a loss for words I suppose. I don't blame her. I could barely speak myself.

"Well when you do say it, it will be all the more special."

"For both of us."

"Yeah."

Then we kissed again and in the kiss she reached down and began undressing me. I undressed her as well. It wasn't frantic and passionate. It was slow and sensuous, as though simply undressing each other was part of the actual love making itself, one of the many pleasures, and not simply the preparation.

"I want you to make love to me. I wanna feel it again. I've been thinking about it ever since that night and I can't get it out of my head. I think this is why I'm so messed up, about Steve and everything. I realize Steve isn't really much different than any of these other guys I been with. He's a little rough around the edges, but he's no worse than anyone else. It's me that's changed. Now that I have something to compare all these guys to, straight raunchy sex with Steve just seems crude somehow. Ya messed me up, Anthony Mitchell, but I can't say I don't like it."

"I feel pretty messed up myself."

We were naked now, and though I was dying to love her, I had a better idea. I looked down at the curves and contours of her naked form, and I had only one thought in my mind.

"What? Why you lookin' at me like that?" she asked, covering her face with her hands.

"I wanna bathe you."

"What? Bathe me? Why?"

She looked like she was probably thinking I wanted to wash Steve off of her or something, like she was somehow not good enough for me yet, but that was the furthest thing from my mind.

"You're a work of art, Char. I just wanna pour warm water over you and rub you all over with a wet cloth, and wash your hair and your feet—every part of you. I want to adore every inch of you. Can I?"

"Okay," she said. Her smile was beaming now. Her blush was a sweet and shining glow.

"I'll go fill the bath. You wait here."

I went into the bathroom on shaky legs and began filling it with warm sudsy water. It was a big tub and it was taking a while to fill. I saw a small dish of soft white powder with a wooden scoop in it. I lifted it to my nose and smelled it. It was some sort of milk-bath solution the ladies of the house apparently used, so I added a couple of scoops to the water. Finally the tub was full, almost to the top and I turned the taps off. Then I wandered back into Charlotte's room.

She was sitting there reading my poem with one knuckle in her mouth, and her other hand on her cheek. The writing tablet was on the blanket across her lap. Her breasts were covered by her hair, and I thought she might look amazing on my bedroom wall sitting like that in a picture. She looked up at me. Her eyes were wet with tears but she wasn't crying. She just looked helplessly bewildered.

I stood there naked in the doorway, and she beckoned me toward her. I walked up to the foot of her bed. She set the paper aside and crawled sensuously down toward me. She slid off the end of the bed and dropped to the floor, her eyes shining with what looked like joy and terror combined. I moved to pick her up but she brushed my hands aside, and before I knew what was happening she sucked me into her mouth, slowly and deeply, as though it were the icon of love itself. Her eyes looked up at me, shining with joyful tears. She wanted to pleasure me. I could see it on her face. She wanted it with all her heart.

I lifted my hand to grip her bedpost. My knees went weak. She whimpered and sighed sweetly, giving me love with her mouth. I was too delirious to speak. I wanted to tell her how wonderful she was, but I couldn't. I just looked down at her and watched her work, listening to her noises, and feeling the blissful lubricity of her mouth, lips, and tongue.

I realized something in that instant that blew my mind. I realized that though she was unable to speak the words, she was showing me her love by her actions. I could see her love for me. I could feel it. It was so obvious. It was more powerful than any words could ever express. I love you, I love you, I love you, her motions said. Finally, I stopped her with one hand. She pulled her mouth off, looked up into my eyes, and shivered. Then she closed her eyes contentedly and just hugged me. We held still for the longest time, trying to recover some coherence.

"What brought all that on?" I asked, softly stroking her hair as she clung to my naked body.

"No one's ever written a poem for me before..."

"Never?"

"Never. When did you write that? It's totally brilliant. It's like, exactly how I feel."

"Just now, while you were sleeping,"

"I..."

She was speechless again. Her body felt warm next to mine, and I just wanted to hold her all night, but the bath was waiting.

I picked her up in my arms and kissed her. I carried her to the bathroom and stepped right into the tub. Then I carefully lowered her into the water and we just held each other some more.

I began bathing her, stroking her softly with a warm cloth, and rubbing her down with some creamy body soap. I dipped her head into the water and then I shampooed her hair. Then, after some conditioner, I got her to stand up. I rubbed her down with soap from her neck to her thighs. Then I rinsed her clean with the cloth. She sat down again and I did her calves and feet.

"I never felt so relaxed in all my life," she said.

"I feel like I know every inch of you now, from head to toe."

"Well I better do you in return then. I feel kinda left out."

So Charlotte washed me, over my entire body. Feeling her hands slipping and sliding all over me was more than I can describe. I just felt like I had died or something and was in some low-level paradise, being ministered to by an angel. I had the same feeling of her showing me love without words. Finally she sat me down on the edge of the tub, and mounted me. I thought I might faint again. I didn't though, I just held her around her waist as she moved on me. I hugged her to me, suckling her breasts like a helpless child, and she held the back of my head to steady herself. Her hands were shaking, her legs as well.

She kissed me aggressively and just stopped all of a sudden. Then she pulled off me and we sat back down in the bath to rinse off.

We got out, toweled each other off, and headed for bed.

I kissed her all over her clean, silken skin, and she just lay there, enjoying it. I got to her little kitty in the center of her sex and kissed it happily on its little nose, trying to show her the same love she had shown me, without words. I don't know if I communicated it the way she had, but she was enthralled to the point of delirium nonetheless.

Several songs went by before she finally pulled me up for a kiss, and then we lay there for a while longer just touching each other everywhere and reveling in the closeness we felt.

I was at the very entrance of her womanhood in that position, and she reached a hand down to guide it inside. She gasped. Her grip on my shoulders tightened.

"You okay?" I whispered in a breathless stammer. I could hardly breathe.

"Uh-huh!" she replied, but it sounded more like a question. Her eyes were wide, frightened-looking. Her hands were shaking. And when I thrust deeper she flinched hard and let out a long moan. Her eyes closed and she seemed to drift away into a hidden world. I think maybe she was trying her best to fight off the emotions that kept trying to wash over the physical ecstasy. And I think at some point she just gave up and went with it.

We made love gently and, purposefully, without the slightest urgency. It was a moment I could have stayed in forever. Her legs were parted, sliding like heated silk all over my waist and thighs. We kissed as well, without urgency or aggression, and finally I simply took her hands in mine, holding them above her head, beneath her pillows as I stroked her. I kissed her sweetly like that for what seemed like an entire hour. We stared into each other's eyes, panting out of gaping mouths, pausing every so often, feeling so much pleasure we could hardly breathe.

The intensity of her pleasure increased and the pitch of her voice slowly climbed toward a climax. Finally she was coming, and I followed immediately behind her, pulled along by the sweet tickling ecstasy of her. She hugged me tightly to her body with her legs. She gripped my hands with all her might and gasped, letting her body do the screaming for her. She crushed me in a loving grip, draining sweet pleasures from me as the orgasm shook through her. I filled her with my seed. She arched her pelvis upward to receive it, and I let out a cry of ecstasy that almost seemed to frighten her a bit with its passion.

"Oh, Charlotte. Oh, my sexy little goddess. My love. I'm dying. I'm dying. You're so wonderful."

We lay still when it was done, for what seemed like an hour. We did not speak or even look at each other. We just felt the gooey satiation oozing through our bodies like a drug. The moment did not need words. Our bodies were touching in every way, and that was enough. A brand new little universe had been created.



-------

Chapter 10: Proposal


We made love in almost a dozen different ways as the night went on. The emotional intensity did not diminish at all throughout the whole evening. Charlotte switched the musical soundtrack to a more rhythmic, grinding dance beat. Our pure raw lust for each other flared up in full force, but it did not dethrone the emotional center of our love making. The two forces actually complimented and intensified one another.

We ended with her head resting on my thigh like a pillow. After a while Charlotte spoke.

"You wanna sleep with me, Anthony?"

"Sleep with you?" I was a little confused for a moment. Wasn't that what we'd just done? Then it occurred to me what she really meant, and I was suddenly elated beyond comprehension. She literally wanted to sleep with me, and the notion was too wonderful for words. I could think of nowhere else I'd rather be than waking up in her arms in this palatial bedroom the next morning.

"Yeah, you know, just lie with me all night long and keep me warm and safe in yer arms in my cozy little bed all through the night ... sleep with me."

"Of course I will! I'd be honored."

Charlotte kissed my cock lovingly one more time and then sat up and straddled me for yet another hot little fuck. She sank down onto me and began swirling her pelvis around and around in slow circles, tickling my balls with her fingertips and playing with her clit with her free hand.

It was then that Stephanie Lawsen poked her head in the door.

"Aren't you two a sexy sight!"

"Hi, mom," Charlotte said, without the slightest shame. She made no move to cover up or conceal our activity, and that made the whole situation even more beautiful. She didn't even stop fucking me. It was like there was absolutely nothing wrong with what we were doing, and that felt wonderful—so free and peaceful, even with her mother right there.

"Haven't you two had enough?"

"I absolutely can't get enough of this guy, mom. We already done it five or six times, in a dozen different ways, but I still want more, and he's still ready, willing, and able. It's absolute heaven. I feel drunk or something. Oh god, it feels good!"

"Hmmm ... Sounds like love to me."

"Can Anthony spend the night, mom? I can't bear to let him go."

"I don't see why not, as long as his parents are okay with it. It is a weekend after all."

Ronald Lawsen poked his head in the door behind her. I jumped a bit, but then realized he would be no more upset at our nudity than her mother would. He simply smirked at Charlotte and I.

"Sweetheart, did Robert M. call about the contract we were discussing?"

"Nobody called," Charlotte said. "At least not that I noticed."

"Is it alright if Anthony spends the night, dear?" Stephanie asked her husband. "Our little girl has gotten herself fairly attached to him. It's not hard to see why."

He pointed at me with a grin and a wink as if to say "You da man!" and then he gave me a thumbs up. He left in a hurry, as though more concerned with a contract he was negotiating than with his daughter in bed with a naked young man. It's not that he didn't care about Charlotte or anything. I gather sex was just an everyday thing with them.

"I guess that means you're in," Stephanie said.

"Thanks mom," Charlotte replied. "Can you take this tray of food away for me?"

"Sure thing."

Stephanie picked up the tray of food, and left.

"Oh that mother of mine," Charlotte sighed. And she resumed her slow, sensuous gyrations and grindings upon my manhood.

I was speechless.

"You okay?" she asked me.

"I think so," I replied, but I was twitching a little. It was really weird.

"Don't worry about it too much, Anthony. I told you they're very liberal like that."

"And then some," I said.

"You'll get used to it. Don't worry."

A few minutes later she asked me a question.

"What's the J stand for?"

"What J?" I asked, feeling somewhat dopey.

"The J in your middle name. You wrote A.J.M. at the bottom of your poem. I was just thinking about that."

"It's James. Anthony James Mitchell. I'm named after my uncle James Montgomery Mitchell. What's your middle name?"

"Charlotte Bethany Lawsen."

"Bethany. That's beautiful."

"I'm named after my grandmother."

I reached down and massaged her ass in appreciation. It was truly a thing of beauty.

"You keep doing that, and you're asking for another good hard fucking, boy. That's getting' me so hot right now, you wouldn't believe it."

"You really like that, don't you?" I asked with a delighted grin.

"Uh-huh."

So I pulled her off of me, laid her down on her tummy, and mounted her from behind. The sex that followed was the most aggressive and passionate I'd ever experienced. We were like animals, thrusting and grinding at one another, growling and shrieking as we bounced around the bed.

"I'm gonna make you surrender to me, Charlotte. I'm gonna conquer all of you! I'm gonna be your man!"

"Uh. Uh. Ah!" was all she could get out. She could hardly speak, but she panted out each phrase between gasps for breath.

"You're gonna love me, and you're gonna tell me so every chance you get. You're gonna give yourself to me, every inch of you, inside and out, and you're gonna love me forever."

"Yes! Yes. Oh yes!"

That right there was probably the most beautiful moment of sex with her so far. I threw my head back and let out a cry of victory. She still hadn't specifically said, "I love you" though. That was the ultimate test.

I picked up the pace, now like a galloping stallion. I was panting like a sprinter but I managed to blurt out, "Do you love me, Charlotte? Do you?"

"Oh, make me come! I'm almost there."

I thrust even harder, building the intensity even more.

"Ah, yes!" she cried out, louder now.

"You love me?" I asked again. "Say it, Charlotte! Do you love me!?"

I thought I saw a slight nod of her head, but I couldn't tell. She said nothing.

"Please!" I begged frantically. "Please say you love me."

She didn't though. She was suddenly coming, more intensely than I'd ever seen her or anyone else come in my whole life. Her voice was choked away and she simply clung to the sheets like she was caught in a hurricane. I could feel her entire body seize up. She shivered, tearing at the sheets and squealing like I was twisting a knife in her very soul.

I was finally conquered myself. The climax came, overpowered us, drained us of our strength, and left us for dead. I collapsed onto her back, crushing her comfortably between myself and the mattress. Her back was slippery with our sweat, and her body was trembling beneath me. We were both panting as though we'd pursued the orgasm in a full sprint and tackled it together; our bodies were oozing with deliciously intoxicating hormones. For a moment the whole universe was complete and total ecstasy.

She hadn't told me she loved me though.

I began to wonder if it even mattered. Everything seemed so perfect except for that. I suppose that was my answer. That was the one thing that could have taken us through the very stratosphere of emotional and sexual fulfillment, but she had held back. Why? What did it mean?

I pondered this as we came back down to earth, floating weightlessly back into the here and now. Our panting had slowed to deep sighing, and our trembling had stilled to occasional shudders. We didn't speak for a long time, and I began to wonder what she was thinking. Finally I heard her voice beneath me.

"That was hands down, miles above the best sex I've ever had so far. I swear to god. You're a fuckin' sexual hero, Anthony."

"Wow ... It was that good?"

"Look at me! I can't stop shaking. I can't feel my body. I'm just a puddle of goo. I can barely even talk, or even think straight."

"Wow..." I repeated. A sexual hero.

"I was always worried that sex would eventually be diluted and slowly lose its appeal over time, like eating too much pizza—you just get sick of it after a while. But mom said I just had to find the right man and everything would be wonderful."

"And?"

"And, I guess maybe I've found him."

I was encouraged by that. Now maybe she would say it.

"Let's go take a shower, Anthony. Then we'll go to sleep."

"I can hardly move."

"Me either. You're a big strong lad though. You can make it."

I actually did make it. I even got up, invigorated by my love for her, and lifted her into my arms. I walked down the hall on shaky legs and carried her into the bathroom.

I noticed Mr. Lawsen with his face between his wife's naked thighs as we passed their bedroom though. Stephanie's face was frozen in a grimace of over-ripe ecstasy, but she managed to open her eyes in time to see us walking by. She wiggled her fingers at us and Charlotte waved back.

"I just have to find the right man," she mused to herself. Then she buried her face in my neck and sighed affirmatively.

We rinsed off in a cool shower, kissing and cuddling and caressing each other's naked bodies as we did. Then we toweled dry, brushed our teeth, and headed to bed.

I gave my mom a quick call and told her I would be home the next day. She sighed and told me to "be good." Charlotte was hugging me from behind as I talked to her, sweetly kissing my back and shoulders, sending shivers through my entire being. I could feel her naked nipples pressing into me. I reached behind me and grabbed her ass, pulling her closer to me. Then I turned my face and kissed her, as I hung up the phone.

Be good? Everything was good. Everything was amazing.

We climbed into bed, and this time it was for sleep. It felt kind of strange knowing that. I lay down on her pillow and she nestled up to me, under my arm with her head on my shoulder and her hair in my cheek. Her hands wandered all over my body as we talked, and she slid her thigh up and down mine, as though somehow skin on skin was still not close enough.

"My man," she said in the darkness. I felt her kiss my chest over and over again. It was very sweet.

"If you want me, I'm all yours."

"I do..."

"But do you love me?"

"It sure as hell feels like I do. If this isn't love, the real thing will probably kill me I think."

"Well let me be the one to say it officially first. Charlotte, I'm no longer falling in love with you. I am in love with you, and I hope you will do me the honor of being my girlfriend."

She was quiet for a moment, thinking, softly stroking my chest with her fingertips, and caressing my feet with her hers.

"Do you really want me?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I do."

"Have you really thought it through?"

"What's to think through? I love you."

"Yes, but I'm the school slut, remember? People have certain expectations of me that having a boyfriend won't change."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm still gonna get hit on by all kinds of guys, and I can't say I don't like those kinds of things. I know you're on an emotional high right now, and I am too to some extent, but I'm not gonna lie to myself and get myself into anything that I might change my mind about next week. It's not fair to you or to me."

"But I thought you said I'd changed you. You said you were different now, and didn't care for that kind of sex anymore."

She sighed softly and caressed my cheek. "I'll be happy to say you're my boyfriend, and even fall completely in love with you, for all the wonderful things you are, but I don't think it means the same things to you as it does to me. I'm just not ready to change my whole lifestyle yet. I'm not gonna change who I am. If you wanna be a part of it, and still love me for all the wonderful things I am, then I'll say yes, I'll give myself to you completely, and you'll be my number one man, I'll always honor and cherish your love..."

She rolled onto her back, stared up at the ceiling. I stroked and tweaked at her nipple, waiting for her to continue.

"But I'll still wanna be the school slut, wild and carefree. I know it sounds like a contradiction but it's not. Give it a chance and you'll see. If you're not absolutely a hundred percent certain though, we'd better not do this to ourselves."

Though I didn't like to hear it, I knew she was just being completely honest with me. If I loved her, I had to love the real her, not some illusion, not some self-made expectation of who I wanted her to be. That was not who she was, and I couldn't force that upon her. It was a trap that neither of us wanted to get into. I would have to respect her as a person if I could claim to truly love her.

Stephanie Lawsen cried out in ecstasy from the other room.

"Take mom and dad for example. Mom sleeps around with all kinds of men—she does it for a living, and dad's not only not jealous of her, he encourages her. He recognizes her beauty and artistry in the act of love making, and he helps her refine it, perfect it, and master it. I love that man to pieces. So does my mom. He's like her idol or something. It's so absolutely pure and perfect what they have. They'll be together forever."

What a shadow I found myself in. I wondered how I could ever measure up to Ronald Lawsen in Charlotte's eyes. On the other hand, as I imagined the experience of having Charlotte love me as completely as Stephanie loved him, I was inspired from the bottom of my heart to earn that love, and keep it forever no matter what it took.

"So what do you say? Are we officially an item?" Charlotte asked.

"I guess it's official. We'll just work out the knots as we go."

"We'll have a lot of help. Don't worry."

"Can I have a kiss? Just to officially seal the deal?"

Charlotte kissed me, long and slow and deep, and just when I thought I couldn't be happier, she pressed her lips into my ear and sighed.

"I love you, Anthony," she whispered.

I turned and hugged her with all my might. A tear trickled down her cheek and I kissed her all over her beautifully smiling face.

"I love you too, Charlotte. I love you, too. You made me the happiest man on earth just now."

I thought she might formulate some eloquent reply, but she didn't. She just hugged me back and said it again.

"I love you, Anthony James Mitchell."

At some point during the night I woke up and found myself next to my beautifully naked girlfriend Charlotte. The room was dark but I could feel her soft warm flesh next to me, and I could hear her breathing in the night. I reached over and pressed my hand softly onto her breast. It molded into my hand, firm and fleshy, its nipple hardened beneath my touch. I reached over and grabbed the second breast, and it too responded to my caress.

Charlotte never stirred.

I lifted my head from the pillow I lay on and looked down at her. She was a vision of gorgeous female beauty in the very dim light of the bedroom. Somewhere in the distance behind their house was a streetlight that beamed a ray of itself all the way across the neighborhood, in through the slit at the edge of the blinds, and fell down to kiss her at an angle from her right cheek down across to her left breast, the one nearest me. The ray of light zigzagged brokenly across her body, but it lit her beauty nonetheless. This was the light by which I saw her. She was mine.

I leaned down to suckle her nipple, and felt it harden once again between my lips. I slid my hand down her stomach, feeling its firmness and the satiny texture of its skin. I slid my hand down further and felt the sweet bulge of her pubic mound, upon which an artist had tattooed the face of a kitten—my kitten. I slid a finger across the kitty's nose and Charlotte finally stirred. She released a somewhat troubled-sounding moan, and turned away from me onto her side.

This new position allowed me access from which to worship her beautifully rounded backside. I kissed at her back and the side of her waist, and ran my hand over her hip and down across her posterior curves. Her backside was hot to the touch, warmed by the bed. I moved my kisses down her waist to her hip, and around to the swollen feminine curves of her behind.

I twisted upward again to lay behind her, and nuzzled my nose into her beautifully flowing hair. She smelled wonderful.

Now my erection was pressing into backside. It was smooth and warm and wonderful. Charlotte moaned again, but this time her moan was less troubled and more delighted. I'm pretty sure her mind was still asleep, but her body knew what to do on its own. Her butt thrust backward against me and her knees moved forward, angling her vulva backward toward my erection. I moved into her, little by little, until finally my lower belly was pressed comfortably into her ass.

I began slowly, every-so-slowly stroking myself back and forth inside her. She began to moan more and more however, and after a while her ass began to wiggle in slow circles in beautiful synchronization with my strokes. She went around and around, and I went in and out.

My breathing was getting a little shaky, and my heart began to beat a little faster. Suddenly I felt her hand reach back and pressed down onto my hip, guiding me in my motions inside her. I was still not a hundred percent sure if she was awake yet. Her body knew what it liked, and she usually completely lost herself in the sex even when she was awake. Maybe she was awake, maybe she wasn't. It didn't really matter, she was still making love to me, and it was wonderful.

Her breathing was becoming more erratic as well, and if it increased any more, she would be panting vocally, sounding out her pleasure into the darkness of the night in time to the rhythm of our love making.

I thrust harder and deeper, twisting my pelvis around underneath her ass to get more of myself inside her. She responded as I'd predicted, cooing rhythmically and crying out in an inspired song of pleasure that had its own beats and measures. I didn't think it was possible for me to be more in love with her than I already was, but the sound of her voice, partly weeping, partly joyful, made my insides dance with fresh flashes of emotion. Her hand moved from my hip up to my head, and she held me by the back of my neck as though steadying herself, on the fault line of an impending earthquake. I started a little song of my own, crying out from the emotional pleasure I was feeling, whimpering and gasping from the exertion of pouring myself out into her, in heart and body, in the energy of my love for her.

Suddenly there was a squeeze, tight and heated, from deep inside her. Her breathing ceased, her love song crested beneath a fermata, and her body tensed vigorously before me. Something inside her was fighting its way out, some immense pleasure that her body struggled to birth. I pumped myself in and out of this storm of ecstasy and this seemed only to intensify it even further.

"Come with me," she panted into the night. "Oh please come with me."

I thrust forward with a gasping yelp, surprised by the glorious beauty of the sexual crescendo, as though it were the first orgasm I'd ever had. It was suddenly exploding from me, and I cried out between snatches of breath. She just kept saying "Oh, oh, oh," over and over again, and it was blowing my mind even more. The sound of her intense gratification was intoxicating to my already deliriously gooey mind. It was sublime.

I held her body close to mine, wrapping my arms around her and entangling my legs in hers. I wanted to be as close everywhere as I felt in our carnal connection. It seemed impossible though, like trying to grasp an emotion in ones arms. It couldn't be done. So I simply grasped her, the source of the emotion, and held the emotion with my heart instead. My love for her was thick and pulsing. It was making my body feel distorted, numb, and tingly, as though it were trying in vain to comprehend the feelings that were drowning me, trying in vain to at least contain them in the physical space I filled.

Charlotte herself, now certainly awake, was lost in her own train of thought. She did not speak. She just lay there, holding my hand, holding her breast, and kissing my knuckles over and over again, with a bowing of her head. She was trembling very slightly, as though she were cold, but her body was actually very hot. She was covered in sweat, and every move I made against her was deliciously slippery, inside and out.

I simply kissed the back of her neck and held her like that, enjoying the drunkenness of teenage love, and the post-orgasmic afterglow. I closed my eyes, pressed my forehead into her hair, and sighed.

"I love you so much, Charlotte, it's like I'm dying inside."

"I love you, Anthony, but somehow it feels like those words are so silly and useless compared to how I feel inside. I feel like I'm in the center of all the world, and everything's beautiful cause I'm with you. I don't know if that makes sense or not. I'm not poetic like you. All I know's that this is the moment I'd choose to stay in forever, if I got the chance to choose my own kind of heaven."

"I know exactly what you mean."

"I want you to remember this though, Anthony, if you're ever feeling jealous or insecure about my love for you. I want you to remember this moment and know that you're my heaven, okay?"

"I will. I promise."

"Remember this if you're ever mad at me. Remember this if I ever hurt you. No matter how things go, no matter where the world takes us, if we just remember the love we feel right now, nothing will ever tear us apart."

"I thought you said you weren't poetic."

"Anthony, are you crying?"

I was. My voice cracked, giving me away. She spun around and touched her hand to the wetness streaming down my cheeks.

"Oh my god! What's wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing ... Nothing at all."

"Why you cryin' then?"

"I don't know. I just feel like crying for some reason, and for the first time in my life, I feel like it's perfectly okay, because I'm with you."

"Why do you feel like cryin'? What's wrong?"

"I don't know. Nothing. It's weird, isn't it?"

"Oh, don't cry, baby!" she said, getting a little choked up herself now. "Please don't cry. You're breaking my heart."

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. I felt better. It felt good to breath. A good part of me felt like I had a tremendous weight on me, but another part of me felt like I was floating.

"I'm sorry. I'm just all drunk with emotions I guess."

"So you're really just cryin', just because you love me so much?"

"That's it exactly."

It took about twenty or thirty seconds to wind up, but suddenly Charlotte broke down completely. She just buried her face in my neck, and cried her eyes out, and I cradled her beloved head in my arms, softly stroking her hair.

"You're breaking me down, boy," she said between sniffles. "You're getting inside me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm not scared anymore. That big black door is completely gone."

We were two teenagers in love, naked in bed together in the middle of the night, and our life seemed to have begun right there.



-------

Chapter 11: Drawing Hearts


"Hey, sleepyhead," Charlotte said, smiling over at me. "You look like you had a rough night."

She was sitting at her desk, brushing her long golden hair. She had already showered and was dressed for the day. I felt lazy and well-fucked, and wanted nothing more than to lay in bed all day, but I forced myself to get up.

"Rough? No. It was the best night of my life—ever. No exaggeration."

"It gets better," she said. "I promise. Now go take a shower so I can give a nice good morning blow-job to the man I love."

I flopped back down onto the bed in ecstasy.

"I'm in heaven!" I said. "I swear to god!"

"You are heaven," Charlotte corrected me.

Then she turned back to the mirror and made kissy faces at herself, applying lipstick.

"You're gorgeous," I told her. "My beautiful gorgeous girlfriend."

"Thanks," she said. "Now scoot!"

I grinned, and ran out the door to head for the shower.

We ate a hearty breakfast, and I invited Charlotte over to meet my mom. We had the whole afternoon to kill before our meeting with Sheila, so there was no hurry. I did phone my mom and tell her the good news—Charlotte and I had officially tied the unofficial knot, dating. She told me she was happy for us, but there was a tone of reservation in her voice that suggestion she thought it was perhaps going a little too fast. I told her Charlotte would be over later to meet her, and she would see for herself how wonderful she is.

After that, Charlotte gave me a tour of the basement. It was huge!

There was a full gym with weights and treadmills and all sorts of exercise equipment in one corner. There was a Jacuzzi, a pool table, and a fully-stocked bar. There was a full home theater set-up with a giant screen TV, surrounded by three full-length couches. Then of course there was a bed in the far corner, set in front of a false window, with a dresser beside it. The bed was surrounded by cameras, cables, and light stands.

"This is where the sex scenes take place?" I said, picturing myself fucking Charlotte on that bed.

"The sex scenes take place everywhere, all over the house, even in the back yard if the weather's right. We've got a pool back there."

"I might have guessed."

"Come on. I'll show you the studio."

She took me to a heavy, sound-proof door and tugged it open with two hands. Inside was a whole mess of electronic equipment. There were monitors, mixing boards, synthesizers, computer keyboards, and speakers all over the place. Behind that was another door, this one leading into an audio recording studio with a rather expensive-looking microphone dangling from a boom stand. There was a video monitor hanging from the ceiling in one corner.

"This is where the voice-overs are done," Charlotte said. She stepped up to the microphone, pulled a pair of headphones on, and began making the most gorgeous fuck faces and noises I'd ever heard, other than during actual sex that is.

"Uh! Ooh. Fuck me, baby. Deeper! Yes! Oh, your cock feels so good inside me. Oh gawd!"

She trailed off into panting and moaning and if I would have closed my eyes right then I would have sworn she was getting fucked by somebody. It was downright inspiring.

"That, my dear, is why you love me so damn much," she announced.

I was a little too dazed to formulate a reply, so I just nodded stupidly in agreement. She let out that gorgeous little half-giggle I loved so much and then we left.

We entered the house and mom met us in the hallway.

"So this is Charlotte."

"Yes. Hello, Mrs. Mitchell. I just wanted to tell you that you have the most wonderful son in the world."

Mom and I laughed at that. We laughed because that's what mom herself always told me whenever I'd done something to make her proud. Charlotte had somehow fluked it, and it came across as incredibly charming.

"I can see I'm gonna like this one," mom said. She took Charlotte's arm and led her into the house.

I followed them around from room to room and listened to them chatting away like old friends. I felt incredibly proud of both my mom and Charlotte. They were both so cool, and they seemed to get along famously, playing off each other with quips and giggles that filled the house with feminine magic.

"What do your parents do, Charlotte?"

"They're in the movie business. My dad's a producer, and my mom's an actress. They're quite successful."

"My, my. That sounds exciting. Are you planning on taking up acting one day?"

"I doubt it. I'd think I'd rather get into the travel industry, helping people see the world."

"That would be wonderful. I've always wanted to travel."

The conversation went on like that, but I lost focus on it. I was sitting there staring blatantly at Charlotte's beautiful ass, filling up with lust for her. I wondered if I could sneak a quick one in with her while my mom was in another room. I needed it bad all the sudden.

"What kind of movies do your parents make?" mom asked.

Without batting an eyelash Charlotte answered, "Oh, they make adult films. It's a huge industry."

A thick heavy silence descended on the room, as my mom tried to figure out if Charlotte was joking. I coughed, almost spitting out the cracker I'd been eating.

"Adult films?" mom asked.

"Yes. I don't usually tell people about it, but with Anthony and I dating now, I'm sure you would have found out eventually."

I cringed.

"I see..." mom said. "So you're saying they make pornographic movies and such?"

"Some of them are. Some of them are more classy stuff. It's nothing perverted, don't worry."

Charlotte was being so nonchalant about it, but mom was obviously stricken with shock and horror that her son was dating the daughter of a porn producer and actress. For the first time I actually thought that Charlotte had done something really dumb.

She looked from me to my mom, suddenly feeling a little uneasy.

"You should meet my parents. There's nothing to worry about. You'll see."

"I hope not," mom said.

Oh god. It was all over. I could hear it in her tone of voice. Mom had just lost all the respect she'd had for Charlotte, and now I would be forever caught between them as they battled about the morality of the porn industry. Mom was somewhat old-fashioned as you can guess, not rigidly so, but enough to make the Lawsens' career choice a problem.

"Mom, I know what you're thinking, and I understand how you feel, but just remember that she's the same girl you were getting along so well with a few minutes ago, right?"

"I suppose so," mom replied. "It is a little shocking though, don't you think? I mean I didn't expect people like that to be sending their children to public schools with everyone else."

"Mom!"

Charlotte's brow darkened. She was obviously upset now too, but she said nothing.

"Well I don't mean it like that," mom continued. "I just thought that there were special schools for kids with parents like that ... or something."

"Special schools?" Charlotte asked. She was crossing her arms now, and I was getting even more edgy.

"Well I don't mean special schools. I just mean different schools."

"You're saying I'm not good enough to go to school with your son?"

"No, she doesn't mean that. Don't say that, Char. I'm sorry, mom."

"Anthony! Do not apologize for me. I haven't done anything wrong."

Her tone of voice had a bite in it. She was fuming inside. I was cringing more now, definitely caught in the cross-fire.

"He was only trying to be polite," mom said.

"He doesn't need to answer for me, or apologize for me. I stand by my parents. I'm proud of them. I don't care what anybody thinks or says! They are successful. They are decent and honorable people, and they pay their taxes just like everyone else. We don't need anyone looking down on us just because we don't hold to some antiquated notions of morality the religious elite thrust upon the ignorant masses thousands of years ago!"

"Charlotte, let's discuss this another time, shall we? I think we all need to just calm down here for a bit."

"I'm perfectly calm," my mother said.

"So am I," Charlotte answered. And then she walked out.

"Charlotte, wait! Ah, mom, couldn't you just be cool about it?"

"I'm sorry," mom said, but she didn't seem very sorry.

I ran out the door to catch Charlotte. She was halfway down the street before I caught up with her. She didn't stop when I called out to her, so I finally grabbed her arm and spun her around.

"Charlotte, I'm sorry."

She shook my hand off of her arm and kept walking, without even looking at me.

"What for? You didn't do anything."

"I'm sorry my mom has to be an old fuss-pot like that. It's just how she was raised. You could have handled it a little better though, don't you think?"

"I think I handled it just fine!"

"If you had, things wouldn't have gone that far."

"So what were you gonna do, just sweep me under a rug to protect your dear old mother from being offended by my family?"

"Of course not! That's not fair, Charlotte."

"There's a reason why I've never had a boyfriend until now, and you've just reminded me of exactly what it is."

I stopped in my tracks, stunned all of a sudden by her bitter jab. She kept walking.

"You said you loved me!"

She slowed to a stop and turned, looking down at the street. Then she slowly turned her face up to look at me. There were at least a half dozen different emotions fighting to lay claim to the expression on her face. Eventually disappointment won out, and that one hurt me most of all.

"I didn't do anything wrong," I said. "I love you."

She stood there thinking for what felt like far too long.

"I'm sorry," she said finally. "I'm just upset right now. I wanna go home."

"I'll drive you."

"No. I'll walk."

Then she turned and walked away.

I ran up once more, suddenly panicked now, like I'd never see her again. I grabbed her arm.

"Charlotte! Stop! Wait a minute!"

But she shook my arm off and screamed at me.

"Fuck off! Leave me alone!"

The sudden explosion of anger from her let me stunned. I just stood there watching her until she disappeared around a corner several blocks down. I wanted to chase her down and apologize. And then I wanted to chase her down and yell at her. And then I wanted to just say fuck it all and never talk to her again. But that idea burned in my guts like hellfire; apparently I really did love her.

I stood there on the sidewalk in front of some guy's house for the longest time. I didn't know what to think or how to feel. My mom was just who she was, and Charlotte was just who she was. They had just clashed. It would have been so much easier if I could blame someone for what had happened.

Damn it! There we were acting like a couple of stupid teenagers again, after such an incredibly mind-blowing night. Everything had been so perfect, and now it was all shot to hell.

I decided there was nothing for me to do but go home. I had an intense knot in my stomach. I felt awful. I went into my room and went straight to bed, not really sleeping, but just laying there wondering how I would patch things up with her. I wanted to call her but didn't. She said she would call me. If she didn't call, that was probably my answer right there. If she didn't call, there was nothing to patch up.

Hours passed and I didn't hear from her. I lay in my bed all night, worrying, trying to talk myself out of the worst-case scenarios going through my head, but not having much luck. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I didn't want to leave the house or talk to anyone on the phone in case she called. It was pretty sad and pathetic, but that's the way love goes, when things go bad.

I lay there thinking about maybe just letting her go, but one simple little image kept coming back to my mind. She'd been lying beside me with her head on my stomach after going down on me in her bed, and she was drawing little hearts in the sweat on my stomach. It tickled, and I tensed up, but she just smiled at me and drew another one. I stared down at her, feeling like a king as her beautiful golden hair spilled down across my hip. If I let her go, that beautiful little moment would only be a memory, and not part of my world for the rest of my life.

I finally fell asleep at around one o'clock in the morning, with a pencil in my hand, and my face against a poem I'd been trying to write. The poem was about evaporating sweat. I still hadn't heard from her.

I didn't leave my bedroom the entire morning. I got up around noon and drank some juice.

"Charlotte call, mom?" I asked.

She shook her head. She told me I should eat something. She looked worried. I ignored her, feeling like I was already ready to vomit up the juice.

I went to my room and lay on my bed, scared and confused. And then I turned over, hugged my pillow, and quietly cried myself to sleep.

A long while later my mom knocked on my bedroom door.

"She's here, Anthony."

"Who's here?"

"Charlotte's here. I'm going out to the grocery store. I'll be back at six."

I jumped out of bed and was at the door within seconds. I swung it open and saw her there, staring up at me with dark eyes, sunken inward from too much crying. Her hair was damp, as though she'd gotten out of a fast shower, and she had no makeup on, but she still looked absolutely radiant, beautiful beyond words. My heart went out to her, wanting to hold her and just make everything better.

She whispered my name. Her lip trembled.

I opened the screen door and stepped closer to her. Her mom was sitting in a red convertible out on the front street. There were thick, heavy storm clouds in the sky, making the evening seem darker than it really was. There was no storm though, just a distant rumbling.

"Anthony, I'm so sorry," she said. Then she grabbed me all of a sudden, with all her strength, and just bawled like a baby. I didn't know what to think. Were we over? Were we together? What was happening?

"It's my mom," Charlotte said. "She told me how totally stupid I'm being, selfish and immature and stupid, and that I'm gonna lose the greatest guy in the whole world over one little fight. Oh, god, I love you so much, Anthony. Can you ever forgive me? Please say you forgive me, or I'll die."

I held her for a long time before speaking. I loved holding her. It made my universe feel centered again. I loved it so damn much after that whole ordeal that I had trouble formulating a reply.

"Don't die, Charlotte my love. I forgive you. I barely even remember what exactly you did that was so wrong."

I felt Charlotte's tears against my neck. I just wanted to hold her like that forever and ever.

"You are so the best, Anthony. I don't deserve you. I'm so sorry. I'll pull my own heart out and give it to you if you ask me too, just don't ever stop loving me."

"I won't."

"I love you so much, Anthony. I'm so sorry. Please don't ever let me go."

She was talking in circles, like a little girl who'd lost her favorite dolly and was panicked she'd never see it again.

"I love you too, Charlotte, and I always will."

"Mom said you say that. How come she can see how incredible you are and I couldn't?"

I didn't have an answer. I just kissed her.

From the street her mom waved, started up the car, and drove away. There was another distant rumbling in the sky, further away this time.

Thank you Stephanie Lawsen, I prayed silently in my heart. Thank you.

The love we made that afternoon was beyond anything we'd experienced so far. Having faced the loss of all we had together, and recovered, we clung to one another until our very hearts were fused. Tears flowed freely down her face, dropping onto my chest from above as she stroked herself up and down me, catching the explosion of my love deep inside her with an expression of delirious awe. There was so much fear, and regret, and gratitude, and desperate desire in her eyes, I almost died right there.

We kissed and made up, for a good hour after that. We cuddled and fawned over one another, and whispered those sweet nothings you always hear people talking about. Finally my mom returned from her shopping. We got ourselves dressed again and headed out to meet her.

"Hello," mom said without emotion.

Charlotte stood beside me as my mom put away the groceries.

"Mrs. Mitchell?"

Mom stopped, and looked at her. Charlotte's voice wavered as she spoke.

"I'm so very sorry for how I behaved yesterday. What I said must have been a shock to you, and I acted very immaturely in confronting you about it right away. I can't change who I am though, and I can only hope you'll accept me as your son has. I love him with all my heart and I'll never do anything to hurt him, as long as I live."

Mom looked at the floor for a long moment. Then she glanced back up at Charlotte. Charlotte was crying freely. She looked so beautiful.

"There's a reason why he spent the entire night crying over you last night. I guess if I shut up and listen now and then I might figure out what that reason is, huh?"

Charlotte looked over at me. Her eyes held a vow to love me even more than she already had.

"Do you want a cookie, dear. I picked up some cookies from the store."

The cookies were in the shape of little hearts. A smile spread across Charlotte's tear-streaked cheeks.

"I'd love one," she said.

And everything was okay again.



-------

Chapter 12: Big Plans


"Hello, She," I said. "How's your bod?"

"Better," she replied. "Can you hold on for thirty seconds while I switch phones?"

"Sure," I said. I had all the time in the world in fact. I was sitting in the hallway on the floor, where I usually talk on the phone, and Charlotte was lying with her head on my lap, looking up at me with her shining blue eyes.

"What's up, Anthony?" Sheila asked. She sounded much more cheerful than she had the day before.

"I've got some interesting news for you."

"Oh?"

"I'm no longer a single man."

"Really?" she said. "Who's the lucky girl?"

"I'm sure you can guess."

"Well I know it's not me."

"Who have I been spending a lot of time with lately?"

"You're going steady with Charlotte Lawsen? Really?"

"You guessed it," I said, lifting Charlotte's hand like a prized possession to give it a kiss.

"I thought she didn't date the guys she fucks. I thought she was all about being free and easy. Uh, no offense."

"She thought so too, I guess. It seems I've changed her mind to some degree."

"Well you always were a charmer." There was just the tiniest hint of sarcasm in her tone, and I wondered again whether she had issues with Charlotte. "So you're basically calling me to brag about landing the hottest girl in school?"

"Well, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't proud of myself, but that's not the only reason I called. I also wanted to know if you're still up for doing this movie with us."

"Of course," she said, without hesitation. "I was actually wondering when you were gonna call about it. We were supposed to get together yesterday, weren't we?"

"Yeah, sorry. Something came up. You free tonight?"

"Sure."

"We're gonna head over to Charlotte's place. Are you pretty much ready to go?"

"I've been ready all weekend."

"I probably should have called. I had a bit of trouble to sort out earlier."

"So you're on your way, or what?"

"I'll be out of here in about ten minutes. See you then."

"Should I bring anything?" she asked.

"Nah. Just come," I said with a smile.

"How did I know you'd say that? Smart-ass."

"See you soon, She."

"Bye-bye, Charlotte's boyfriend."

"Now who's being a smart-ass?"

"What? That's who you are, isn't it? I'm just trying to get used to it."

"Me too, I guess. It's only been since Friday."

"Was it all romantic and shit?"

"It was," I said with a phony love-sick sigh.

"Well, at least one of us has a love life, and as usual it's not me."

"Maybe I can get Char to hook you up with Doug Devone," I said.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. I covered the phone and told her Sheila was a big fan.

"Oh, god," Sheila whimpered. "Don't even tease me like that, you cruel bastard."

"Just kidding. Sorry."

Then we said good-bye, and hung up for real this time.

"There's Sheila," I said. We pulled up in front of her house and she got in.

"Hi, Sheila. I don't think we've ever officially met. I've heard a lot about you."

Sheila took her hand, and shook it. "Likewise," she said.

"So are you excited about making this movie?"

"Totally," Sheila said. "I can hardly think of anything else."

"Me neither. I've been going crazy ever since we first talked about it. I can't wait to see the finished product."

"Anthony tells me you're a fan of Doug too, and you've actually met him."

"Doug is insanely sexy. Even more so in person I think."

"Does he come over to your place often?"

"Every month or so, unless he's in one of my dad's movies, then he's over there pretty much every day all day."

"Do you need a roommate?"

"I can introduce you to him if you want."

"I'd be too embarrassed. That guy makes me totally crazy, just thinking about him. I can't imagine meeting him in person."

Their conversation was bright and animated now, and I was glad to see them getting along so well.

"Yeah. I'm like that too. He must think I'm this fluffy little air-head, swooning over him every time I'm in the same room as him. He's a nice guy though. He doesn't tease."

"So what's he like? In person, I mean," Sheila asked.

"Well once you get past the whole celebrity factor, he's no more sexy than our dear Anthony here."

"Anthony is a sexy one, I'll give him that. But since you've already snagged him, I'll have to settle for Doug."

Charlotte laughed out loud.

"You're crazy, Sheila! I love it. You're so cool!"

"Thanks," Sheila said. I could tell she was a lot more flattered than she let on though.

"I can see why Anthony loves you so much," Charlotte added.

Sheila paused in thought, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with a piece of thread hanging off of her shirt.

"Well we've got something special, me and him. How long have we been friends now, Ant? Ten years?"

"Ant?" Charlotte said. "That's so cute!"

"He was a shrimpy little kid. I used to call him Ant, and I guess the name stuck."

"You should talk about being shrimpy, Chicken Legs," I threw in.

"Chicken Legs?" Charlotte said.

"Yup. That's what they used to call me."

"I feel left out. I don't have a nick-name."

"Sure you do," Sheila said. "You're Charlotte 'The Slut' Lawsen."

Charlotte and I froze in shock for a moment. Then we both burst out laughing when we realized Sheila was only teasing.

"I fucking love this girl, Ant," Charlotte said. "She's hilarious!"

"No offense," Sheila said.

"Oh don't be silly," Charlotte replied. "I know I'm a slut. It doesn't bother me. I actually like it. No rules, no inhibitions. It's sexy."

"Cool," Sheila said, and I could tell she had just developed a ton of respect for Charlotte from that one little sentence. Sheila had been battling with her own inhibitions for years.

"We're here," I said.

I parked my truck and we got out next to the shiny red sports cars. Sheila gaped at the house without a hint of subtlety.

"Fuck me," she said. "I'm gonna become a porn star when I grow up!"

Charlotte laughed again.

We walked to the front door and headed in.

"Oh my God! This place is incredible!" Sheila said, gawking around.

Charlotte showed her around the main floor.

"Do I get to meet your mom? That's gonna be so weird."

"I wonder if they're downstairs," Charlotte said. "They might be working. Let's head upstairs and get busy. We can meet them later."

We got upstairs and Sheila was no less astonished by Charlotte's bedroom. Eventually we settled down to work.

"Okay," Charlotte began. "First the ground rules."

Sheila was lying on Charlotte's bed on her tummy with her feet up behind her, and a notepad in front of her. I was sitting on the chair at Charlotte's desk, and Charlotte was sitting on the floor in front of me, using my knees as a backrest. She had a small clipboard of her own.

"First of all," Charlotte said, "and possibly the most difficult part for all of us, is that Anthony can not have any sex until the day of the shoot, starting tomorrow morning."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Take a guess."

"Cause you want me fresh and ready when we finally get down to it?"

"Exactly," Charlotte said,."We're starting Wednesday night, or perhaps Thursday morning, depending how late my parents leave, so that gives you a good couple of days. That means no sex whatsoever, not even masturbation. Can you handle it?"

"No," I said flatly, staring down at her body. I already wanted her again, after only an hour or so. How could I possibly go three days?

"Tell you what, Anthony. After we're done here, I'll fuck you until you can't even walk and leave you for dead. That should tide you over for a few days, shouldn't it?"

"It might. I'm still gonna be pretty randy by tomorrow night though, especially with a little sex-pot like you around."

"I can make myself scarce if it helps."

"I'd miss you though," I said.

"Isn't that just too fucking sickeningly sweet for words," Sheila groaned.

"Isn't he though?" Charlotte beamed. "I love him so much."

"You do?" Sheila asked. "Really?" She seemed confused.

"Of course I do! I'm head over heels in love with this fucking guy. It's insane!"

"Wow. I thought you guys just met a couple weeks ago or something."

"We did, but we just clicked like magnets. He's the most incredible guy I've ever met."

"And he's madly in love with you too, I suppose."

"Guilty as charged," I said. Charlotte tilted her head back and I leaned down to give her a kiss. Sheila had not seen us kiss until then, and the kiss confirmed it for her—we were indeed passionately in love.

"I should be so lucky," Sheila muttered.

"He even wrote a poem for me! Wanna to see it?"

Charlotte jumped up without waiting for an answer and fetched the little pad of paper I'd written on a few nights before. She handed it to Sheila and sat down beside her.

"No one's ever written me a poem before. I absolutely love it!"

Sheila read the thing, and her face went through about six of seven different emotions as she did.

"Seems like you've really smitten this boy," she said.

"It's mutual, believe me."

"We better get back to work," I said. I was getting incredibly turned on again, and the sooner we got done, the sooner I'd be making to her love again.

Charlotte scooted back over to me again.

"Okay, the next thing to talk about is the actual story line. Have you told Sheila your idea yet?"

"Not yet," I said.

"Anthony's got this idea about a girl with a split personality, fighting with each other for control over her body so they can possess the man they both love."

"Sounds cool," Sheila said.

"It is. It's gonna take some doing, but without having sex every twenty minutes, I'm sure Anthony can come up with some great stuff."

"Okay, so Anthony's gonna do a script for it?"

"A screenplay, actually. You know how to do that, Anthony?"

"What's the difference?"

"It's basically a script from the camera's point of view. It's more visual."

"Gotcha," I said.

"Now there are some specific things you need to know as the director, Sheila. As you said, you've only ever done stage plays so far. The advantage of making a movie is you can do things in any order that you want, and then shuffle everything around later. That's your job. Know the screenplay, know what you want from the overall picture, and then get the shots the way you want them, no matter what order they come in."

"So here we are. Three artists," Sheila said. "We're not even doing this for money. We're doing it just for the sake of it, just for the project itself. That's gonna make it so beautiful, you know?"

"Yeah," Charlotte agreed. "Just hang on to that spirit when the going gets tough."

"I think we'll mostly be having problems with Steve trying to jerk off on the side or something."

"I'm sure he can be cool for a couple of days," I said. "If he doesn't I'll beat the fucking shit out of him, and he knows it."

"Anyway," Charlotte interrupted, "we need at least one technician, so we're gonna have to deal with Steve one way or another. He may agree to do the project, purely for the fun of it, just like we have."

"Let's hope," Sheila replied. "And let's hope we can trust him afterwards not to blab."

"Yes," I said. "That would royally suck."

"Okay, so Anthony's gotta get the writing done, tomorrow and the next day perhaps, and maybe we'll have another meeting Tuesday night to discuss the logistics of the different shots and such."

"Alrighty," Sheila said.

"Now there's simply the matter of getting his rocks off, enough to tide him over for the next few days."

"Perhaps you guys just need some time alone then?" Sheila suggested.

"Maybe," Charlotte said. "I need to get centered and focused on this guy. It's gonna be a challenging week for both of us."

She wasn't kidding.

"I'll tell you what, She," Charlotte said. "I'll leave Anthony here to rest up a bit, and I'll drive you home myself. We'll get a chance to talk some more that way."

"Cool," Sheila said. "Can we get going now then? I'm pretty tired."

"No prob."

I got up and hugged Sheila. I even gave her a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze on the bum. Then she left. Charlotte hung back a moment to kiss me once more.

"I'll be back in twenty minutes, lover boy. I better find you naked in bed when I get back."

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

She blew me a kiss and walked out.

Charlotte returned about twenty minutes later. We talked for awhile, about Sheila, about Steve, about the movie in general, and then about the upcoming week and how we would deal with it. Then, after a good hour of passionate love-making, I got up to head home.

"Night my love," she said. "I'll miss you. I don't know how I'm gonna be able to sleep alone. You've spoiled me."

"I want to marry you someday," I said. "Then we'll never have to be apart again."

"May I be bitch slapped silly if I ever say no to you," she replied, and sank down into her pillows with a happy little sigh.

"I love you," I said.

"I love you too, baby," she said. "One more kiss?"

I gave her one more kiss, and she closed her eyes for the night. I stood there looking at her for a moment, and she fell asleep almost immediately. I'm sure it had been an exhausting a weekend for her as well. Then I left.

It was a lonely ride home.



-------

Chapter 13: Love Sick


The next few days of going without a steady supply of sex probably wouldn't be as bad as I'd thought. The previous weekend's sexual marathon was simply an anomaly in my otherwise uneventful life, so returning to celibacy should be relatively easy.

Of course I'd only been awake for ten minutes when I thought this, but it sounded reasonable enough.

It turned out to be much worse when I got to school. I found myself hard once again, walking down the crowded hallways, thinking about seeing Charlotte. It seemed every chick in school noticed it too, bulging out of my pants down there, looking even larger than usual. I found them all staring blatantly down at it, without even trying to be subtle. Maybe it was just my self-consciousness feeling that way though. I don't know.

"Anthony Mitchell..."

" ... Charlotte Lawsen..."

" ... huge dick!"

" ... seventeen times!? Oh my god!"

I could hear the whispers as I made my way to my locker. It was almost scary. At least they were saying good stuff about me though. Seemingly overnight, I had become one of the sexiest guys in school.

I dropped my jacket off in my locker and grabbed my books. Then I headed over to see Charlotte.

She was standing at her locker surrounded by a ravenous gaggle of gossipy little teenage hens, all giggling and tittering in a circle around her. I didn't hear what they were saying, and they all shut up when they saw me coming.

I walked right up to Charlotte and she turned, wrapped her arms around my neck, and gave me the most adoring kiss I'd ever gotten in a public place. The cheer from the crowd was deafening. Finally a teacher popped her head out of a classroom doorway and gave us a disapproving look. We broke the kiss and the crowd dispersed.

"How are you, my love?" I asked. "You miss me?"

"Of course, baby. I was almost crying when I woke up this morning, and not seeing you there beside me."

"I had a hard time getting to sleep last night too," I said.

I was about to tell her what Janine said to me when all of a sudden Trevor Miller walked by.

"Hey, Charlotte," he said with a knowing smirk. "You're looking exceptionally slutty today." She looked sexy in jeans and a T-shirt, but not slutty.

"Hey, Trev," she replied as friendly as could be. I gather she was used to that kind of talk. I didn't like it at all. Things were different now. I watched him at his locker across the hall from her. My guts were burning. Charlotte sensed it and she turned my face to hers.

"Hey, baby. Don't worry about it, okay? He's not worth the trouble. Believe me." I looked into her smiling blue eyes and was comforted. She kissed me again, and took me by the arm. "Walk me to my class?"

I wanted nothing more. Having her on my arm was more gorgeous than the brightest jewel you could ever imagine. We walked passed Trevor, looking as affectionate as ever, but he made a comment that completely killed the moment.

"Lemmie know if you want another hot fuck, Charlotte. Anytime, baby."

I went cold again, enraged at the gall this guy had, treating Charlotte like a piece of meat, right in front of me too.

"I'll let you know, Trev," she said. "You'll be the first one I think of next time I want a guy who blows off in two strokes."

Several onlookers oohed and ahhed at that, and a chorus of chuckles bubbled up from the crowd.

"Well what can I say?" he said. "I get excited when a chick is all over me like that."

There were more oohs from the crowd. Charlotte didn't reply though, and I found that a little upsetting.

"Listen, prick," I said. "The only reason I haven't kicked your ass all over this fuckin' hallway is because Charlotte asked me not to. She figures you're not even worth the trouble. I disagree, but I respect her, which is more than I can say for you."

"I'll let you know if I ever think of a reason to respect her," Trevor said. "She's a dumb slut. I used a line on her and she fell for it. What can I say? It was easy."

Charlotte looked hurt. I'd never seen that look on her face before and it stirred up an incredibly passionate anger in me all of a sudden.

"You have exactly five seconds to apologize to her, motherfucker," I said coldly. "I'm only giving you one chance."

"Apologize? To her? Ha! She ain't worth it, man. If you wanna date the little whore, that's your choice. It just means you're even dumber than she is. Don't get all up in my face about it though, just cause I dropped a load on her first."

I shouldn't have let it his comments get to me, but they did. The look on Charlotte's face was tearing me up. I really did love her with all my heart, and it was love that compelled me to action. I would have died before I let him hurt Charlotte like that.

I walked right up and punched him in the face, a fast right jab that knocked him back into the locker behind him. His head hit the metal door with a loud bang and he went straight down. He didn't get back up again. In fact for a moment I actually thought I might have killed him or something. He moaned though, after a moment, and gave his head a slow shake from side to side, as if checking if it was still attached.

The on-looking crowd stood in stunned silence. It had happened so fast.

"Apologize, asshole!" I demanded again.

"Fuck you," he mumbled. "Fuck both of you. Fuckin' bitch! Fuckin' slutty whore! Fuckin' cunt!"

I grabbed him up off the floor, slammed him into the lockers again, and pummeled his face and body with a flurry of punches that knocked him back and forth in front of me like a rag doll. I don't know how many times I hit him, but by the time I was done his face was a bloody mess, and he was gasping for breath. He slowly slid down to the floor and collapsed in a heap. He didn't get back up, and his disdainful comments were silenced.

A large crowd had gathering and a bunch of obnoxious little punks started chanting for a fight, even though it was already pretty much over for the most part. A teacher came hurrying out of a classroom and pushed his way through the crowd.

"Mr. Mitchell," he said. "What exactly is going on here?"

"Nothing," I said.

"It sure doesn't look like nothing."

"It's nothing. I was just leaving."

For a moment I thought I was busted for sure. Fighting in school is grounds for expulsion. The teacher apparently decided it wasn't worth the hassle of making a big deal over, though. Perhaps he had heard the entire exchange from his nearby classroom and had decided that Trevor had gotten what he deserved. In any case, he simply helped Trevor to his feet and escorted him away, without making trouble for me or Charlotte.

"See ya later, Two-strokes!" a girl called out. The crowd burst into laughter once again, and several people patted me on the back.

"Way to go, man."

"Good job."

"That prick needed a good thrashing."

I just stood there, humming with adrenaline, and watched them go. The crowd's applause faded and they slowly dispersed. I turned to Charlotte. She had a stunned look on her face that I couldn't quite read. Was she mad? Was she scared? I couldn't tell.

"Sorry," I said, and then shrugged. "I couldn't let him talk about you like that."

She said nothing and that worried me. I took her by the hand and we headed for her classroom. She stopped me outside the door and finally spoke, looking directly into my eyes.

"I am so fucking wet right now, you wouldn't believe it," she said.

"Wet?" I replied.

"Extremely," she said back. "Suddenly everything inside me, every fiber of my being wants you like there's no tomorrow."

"Why?" I asked. I honestly didn't get it. I actually thought she'd be mad at me for getting violent. Her pupils were wide dark pools though, and she stared at me, unblinking, as though I were prey or something. It was so intense.

"I don't know exactly," she said. "I just know that my body is totally humming for you. I don't know if I can wait until Wednesday. Seeing you beat the fuck out of that son-of-a-bitch was just completely gorgeous somehow. You were fucking glowing. I want you so badly I'm shaking."

"Wow," was all I could say.

Charlotte nodded in response. "Wow," she replied, unable to tear her eyes away from mine.

She grabbed me again, and devoured my mouth in a kiss, clutching me to herself with more strength than I realized she had. Her breasts pressed comfortably into my chest, and I grabbed her ass in both my hands.

Eventually her teacher came out and cleared her throat.

"Ahem," she said. "Ms. Lawsen, if you'll kindly join us we'd like to get started."

Charlotte waved her away with one hand, and kept kissing me.

"Excuse me," the teacher said. "This is not very appropriate behavior in a school hallway. Either break it up, or leave the premises."

"I love you," Charlotte whispered. "I love you more than anything in the world—my knight in shining armor, my hero, my love."

"I love you too."

Then I hugged her once more and finally tore myself away.

"See you soon," she said.

As I walked away I heard her say to her teacher, "Sorry Mrs. K. If you only knew how stunningly sexy that boy is, you'd let me stand out there in the hallway and kiss him all day."

Then they were gone into the classroom and the door was shut. I went to my own class and sat there for an hour and a half with a painfully cramped erection, thinking about the look of raw animal lust in Charlotte's eyes, and the taste of her kiss. My stomach was all in knots, and my head was gooey and dizzy. I was almost sick with love for her.

She met me in the hallway on my way to my second class and slipped a note into my hand. Then she was gone, without even so much as a kiss. I hurried to class and sat down in my desk, unfolding the note, devouring it with my eyes.

"My sexy hero," it read.

"I'm totally and completely head over heels in love with you, Anthony. I can't believe that up until a few days ago I was resisting this. I was afraid to go through that big black door, but now that I'm here, I can't imagine being anywhere else.

"My god, I can't even think straight. It's like every thought in my head is of you. How can I please you? How can I pleasure you? How can I make you feel as wonderful as you deserve? How can I thank you for making me feel like a truly beautiful person inside and out, for the first time in my life? What you did for me a while ago, defending my honor like that—it was the most incredible thing I've ever experienced in my life! You make me feel like I'm like the most valuable person on earth to you. No one's ever made me feel like that. Ever! It feels so good!

"The truth is, though I seem confident on the outside, and I try not to let gossip and shit bother me, deep down I'm as insecure as anyone else. I'm just better at pretending I guess. But with you I feel like I don't need to pretend. I know that I'm special, I'm adored, I'm cherished.

"I open myself to you completely, Anthony. I'm just a scared little girl sometimes, in a woman's body, who happens to love sex and being sexy. I know I've made mistakes in my young life. Trevor proved that to me beyond a doubt, but YOU proved to me that I can be loved fully and unconditionally by someone who deserves more than I can ever give them. I'll try my best to be all you deserve though, and I swear you'll always be the happiest man on earth if I can help it.

"I'm beginning to understand how my mom feels about my dad. How she can completely surrender herself to him, without holding a single thing back. How she is never afraid to give herself to him, completely and totally. I can understand how happy she feels, and how secure she is in their love, because I feel that way too now, with you.

"I know you would never hurt me. I know you would never do anything to disrespect me, or let anyone else hurt me or disrespect me. I know that you will always take care of me. I know that I can pour out all of myself to you, and hold nothing back, and you'll be there to receive me, and love me, and protect me, forever.

"My god, I feel like I'm fucking drunk. People are laughing at me because I keep sighing and giggling to myself. I can't wait to see you again, and be alone with you and just wrap myself all around you. Every minute is painful. I want to see you so badly!

"If you ever need anything, or want anything, or desire anything from me at all, no matter how big or how small, just ask me. I'll do anything for you, Anthony. I promise you this with all my heart. I'm yours, body, mind, heart, and soul.

"With all of me, yours forever,

"Charlotte."

I read it over and over again, about three of four times before finally staring up at the ceiling in a stupor of awe. My heart was bursting. I felt like I wanted to cry. I kept swallowing and squirming in my seat, and rereading the letter. Every single word was precious to me. Finally I folded it up and shoved it deep into my pocket. I stared at the teacher but did not hear a single word he said for an entire hour. He could have been belching the alphabet for all I cared. I didn't even know what class I was in to be honest—that's how dazed I was. I think it was History or something.

After a while I took out my pen and opened my school binder to a blank page.

"To the jewel of my heart," I began.

"It shouldn't surprise you that I defended your honor. The tragedy of it is that there's a human being alive who doesn't think you're the most amazing person on the face of the earth. I suppose it's a good thing though, that Trevor said those things. If it gave me a chance to make you realize how much I love and adore and respect and cherish you, then let people say what they want. I will keep defending you. I always will.

"I can't believe there was ever a time when I didn't feel this way about you. It just seems so right, like it was meant to be. You seem to fit me like you were made for me. Everything about you is pleasure to me. Don't worry about 'trying' to please me—just be, just exist, and I'm the happiest person on earth. The way you feel in my arms, the taste of your kiss, the sound of your voice, your body, your sex, your love, your eyes, your hair, your words, your mind, your emotions, your thoughts, your motions, your ideas, your face, your breathing, your smiles, your hugs, your backside, your front side—it's all heaven to me.

"Simply knowing that you love me makes my world complete, Charlotte. There's nothing you need to do to fill me with more joy and love and comfort than I feel right now, just knowing you love me. Everything else is just more heaven. It's immeasurable.

"You are making me a man. Before I had you in my life I was only part of who I am now. Having your love is turning me into what I am supposed to be in this world. I didn't know what that was, and I was crazy scared about it most of the time. I still don't know exactly, but at least I know that you're the rest of me—what was missing. I don't know if you understand. I can barely understand it myself. It's funny how love can be the most confusing thing in the universe, but at the same time everything seems so perfectly clear. I'm so confused, and everything's so crazy, but I am clear on this—you're mine, and that's everything that matters.

"I'll leave you with this though, Charlotte my love. Soon I will be making love to you, wrapped up inside you in every possible way, feeling the world solved like a puzzle, and feeling the zero-gravity of being alone with you at the center of the universe. Hold me in your heart like that until we get there, as I hold you.

"You are the center of me, and all around me at the same time. I am complete.

"Love forever,

"Anthony."

I passed the note to her in the hall as we passed one another during the next break. She smiled at me, perhaps knowing it would be a juicy little love note. It was more than that. It was all my heart poured out onto paper.

I got to my next class and was equally as distracted as I'd been in the last. I found myself unfolding Charlotte's love letter every twenty minutes or so, peeking at it just to remind myself that all this was really happening to me. It felt like a dream.

At some point during the class a girl came back from the washroom and announced quite casually that Charlotte Lawsen had passed out in her class and was down in the nurse's office. I jumped from my seat and was down the hall before the teacher could even ask me where the hell I thought I was going in the middle of...

I didn't hear the rest.

I got to the nurse's office and saw the school nurse, Betty Morgan, and Charlotte's Geography teacher Mrs. Ashton huddled over the note I'd written her. They both looked up at me at the same time and their eyes widened—not so much in surprise at my bursting in so suddenly. Their faces had more of a wowed look to them.

"Where's Charlotte?" I asked.

"She's in there, lover boy," Betty said, indicating a small storage room where injured and ill students went to lay on a cot.

"Is she alright?" I asked.

They just stared at me as if I had two heads.

"What?" I asked, feeling self-conscious under the weight of their eyes.

"She's fine. Go on in," the nurse said. "I'm sure she'd much rather see you than either of us."

"Hey! No funny business in there, Anthony," Mrs. Ashton warned.

I ignored her and headed in, but then I turned around at the last second, walked over, and grabbed Charlotte's note from them.

"Thank you," I said.

"No problem, Romeo," Betty chuckled.

"Kids these days," Mrs. Ashton said.

Then I closed the door behind me.

Charlotte looked up at me with a dazed look on her face. She looked pretty tired, like she'd been through an ordeal, but she brightened up a bit when I entered.

I stood in front of the door looking down at her in the dim light of the storage room. It was lit pretty much with just a little night-light plugged into the wall socket beside Charlotte's head. She looked beautiful.

"You bastard," she said after a moment. "You asshole. You have no idea what you do to me."

Then she was wiping away tears from her eyes. She stretched out her arms toward me.

"Come and hug me," she said.

I knelt beside her and hugged her.

"You okay?" I asked. "What happened?"

"I read your note, and I just started to feel light in the head, and weak in the knees, and tingly in the tummy, and so in love with you that I felt like throwing up. Then I was crying and laughing at the same time, and people started looking at me funny. The teacher asked me if I needed to be excused and I said yeah. I wanted to run to you, and grab you, and never let you go, but as soon as I stood up, everything went black. I woke up in here."

"Sorry," I said, and kissed her cheek. "Here. This is yours." I gave her the note again. "Betty and Mrs. Ashton seemed to get a big charge out of it. They were reading it when I got here."

"It was the most beautiful thing I've ever read in my life," Charlotte said, dropping her head down onto the pillow behind her. She reached up and stroked her fingers across the texture of the wall. Then she looked back at me. Then she just closed her eyes again.

"Yours wasn't too bad either," I said. "I was just about bawling my eyes out in the middle of class."

"Everything I said in it was true. I could have said a lot more, but I was too messed up to even think straight."

"It was beautiful, and I'm gonna hold you to all that."

"Me too."

Then I kissed her, and she pulled me down to lay beside her on the cot. We didn't do anything sexual. We just lay there holding one another and feeling lost in our own little world. Nurse Betty poked her head in to check on us at one point and then she closed the door again.

"Does this feeling ever go away?" Charlotte asked.

"I don't know. Why?"

"I can't even think straight. I feel like I'm drunk all the time. I can't even function. It sucks."

"It's pretty wonderful too, you gotta admit."

"Yeah. I guess."

"I think the intensity dies down, but the power of it never really fades. It's like coming out into the sunshine after you've been in the dark."

More silence passed between us. Then she kissed me again.

"Every girl in school wants to fuck you, you know?" Charlotte said.

"I kind of noticed," I said. "I feel like a celebrity or something."

"Sheila's got her work cut out for her," Charlotte said after another moment of silence.

"How do you mean?"

"She's gotta direct us in a raunchy sex scene when we're both ready to devour each other without holding back."

"I'm sure she'll find some way to use our energy to her advantage. I'm more worried about trying to write the script when I can barely even think straight as it is."

"You'll do fine. You're the best writer on earth in my books."

"You're biased."

"No shit, Sherlock. What tipped you off?"

"Thanks anyway, though. That means a lot to me."

"Even before I knew you, I thought you were a great writer. You used to get up and read those things in English class and they really made me think. I was so glad when we got paired up for those tutoring sessions."

"One day I'm gonna write out all these adventures of ours into a story. These are some of the happiest and most exciting times of my life."

"Mine too," Charlotte said. "You only get to be young and in love once. You'd better capture it for both of us."

"I will," I said. "I promise."

Then there was another lapse into silent repose, and she rested her head on my shoulder, stroking her fingers across my chest. Even the touch of her fingertips felt wonderful.

"I love you," I said, for no reason at all.

"I love you too," she replied. "As if I need to say so, though. My only worry is, how am I gonna be able to go back to being a sexy little slut for you, when everything inside me wants to just love you and adore you and be all romantic like this."

"That's a tough one," I agreed.

"Do you like me being a slut for you like that? Or do you like me sweet and romantic?"

"Both. Totally. Both."

"Both?"

"Yeah. You're so sexy as a hot little slut I could almost die, but other times you're so sweet and loving that it almost breaks my heart. I wouldn't even want to have to choose between them."

"Isn't there one you prefer more though? Overall?"

"No way. I've got the best of both worlds in one girl. I love it. I mean, would you ever want to choose between me being sweet and gentle, or hot and nasty with you?"

"No way. I love 'em both. Sometimes I want you to do me hard and mindless like an animal, and other times I wanted to be treated like a lady, soft and gentle."

"So I guess we could use that idea for the movie script, huh? Bringing the guy to a place where he has to choose between the two of them, the slut or the lady."

"See, this is why you're the writer and I'm not. I never would have thought of that in a million years."

"I think we could also make it a metaphor about society in general."

"What do you mean?"

"Well think about it. On one hand we've got people telling us to 'just say no', to be responsible, to be safe and celibate, and on the other hand we've got movies, music, magazine, and TV telling us that sex is the be all and end all of human existence. It's such a contradiction. No wonder kids are disillusioned."

"Kids just like fucking, just like anyone else," Charlotte said.

"But they've got adults telling them not to, though. And then they bombard us with tits and ass and everything else, just so we'll buy their brand of soda pop. It's so hypocritical."

"Ah, you think too much, Anthony. It's not really that big a deal."

"I guess so. It just bugs me though."

"So how would you use that metaphor in our movie?"

"We could show the girl with the split personality as a metaphor of all teenagers, trying to come to grips with being sensible versus being wild and free and sexual."

"Nobody's even gonna see the movie though, right? Do we need to do all that work?"

"Why not? We might as well do a good job, right? Even if it's purely for our own satisfaction."

"Yeah, I guess. I just can't imagine going back to being a dirty little slut though. The way I feel right now is so peaceful and serene."

"Just stop for a moment, close your eyes, and picture me giving it to you, really hard."

She closed her eyes and after a moment a randy little grin spread across her face.

"Ah, there it is!" she said. "I was wondering where that feeling went?"

"Don't get yourself too worked up though. You've still got two more days to go."

She was still laying there with her eyes shut grinning and nodding slightly, looking so damn sexy I could have jumped her right there.

"Charlotte? Earth to Charlotte."

"Huh? What?" she said, her eyes fluttering open to stare into mine.

"Welcome back," I said.

"Hi," she answered.

"Hi?" I asked.

"Yeah. Just hi. I'm glad you're here with me."

"Well, hi to you too then."

"Hi," she said again, and then she kissed me.



-------

Chapter 14: Dinner


The school day dragged on, like a foe who refused to be defeated and had to be stomped to death to keep it from getting back up one last time. I met Charlotte in the hall outside her locker, and we walked out of the building together. The nurse had told her she didn't need to come back in the next day if she didn't want to, but she said she was feeling much better.

"I haven't eaten all day," she said. "No breakfast and no lunch. That's probably what's wrong with me."

"So let's go eat," I said.

"Can I take you out? My treat?" she offered.

"Sure," I said.

"Just let me drive my car home, and I'll meet you at my place."

"Well in that case, let me head home and get changed, and I'll pick you up at five, okay?"

"Alright," she said. "I've gotta go home and frame this letter on my bedroom wall, next to your picture."

"You don't have a picture of me."

"Well wear something nice and I'll take one when you get over there."

"Will do," I said.

We kissed and went our separate ways.

I got home, showered, changed into a shirt and tie, kissed my mom gleefully on the cheek, and I was out the door again before she even had a chance to say hello. I brought my letter with me, in case I wanted to read it again.

I got to Charlotte's house and Stephanie greeted me at the door.

"Hey, Studly Doright," she said. "My, my, don't you look good enough to eat? Come on in. Charlotte's still getting ready for your little date."

"Hey, Stephanie," I said. "How are you?"

She led me into the living room and we sat down across from each other on two of the three suede-covered couches surrounding a vast marble coffee table.

"I'm doing great," she replied. "I'm looking forward to this trip we've got coming up. It's big business. We're gonna be expanding into new markets, and it's looking like at least 50% in increased sales revenue per year."

"Sounds great," I said.

"You have no idea what I just said, do you?"

"Not really. How much are you worth altogether?"

"None of your business, boy. Let's just say this house is modest compared to what we could be enjoying."

Then she changed the subject.

"We heard about the fight you got in today at school today. That was mighty noble of you. Ron was very impressed. Charlotte is of course on cloud nine over you. She showed me the letter too. You're quite a special guy, Anthony."

Charlotte came downstairs in a ravishing little evening gown. I was immediately smitten with the desire to tear it off of her, but I of course resisted. She came at me with a camera, and I grimaced at her, feeling too modest for such lavish attention. She stood there taking pictures of me while I sat smiling shrugging, and trying to look casual. Then she got her mom to take the camera and shoot a bunch of photos of the two of us together. We hugged, we kissed, we snuggled, we stood there looking happy and cool, and Stephanie just kept snapping away. Finally she had about sixty different pictures and we headed out the door.

Charlotte took me out to what had to be the finest restaurant I'd ever been to, up until that point. It was a place called Franco's. They even had a string quartet playing in the dining area for the patrons. The only trouble was we actually had trouble getting in. They wouldn't believe that a couple of high school kids like us could afford a place like that. Charlotte had to pull out her school ID and her driver's license to prove that she was the Charlotte Lawsen that her mother had called to make reservations for. Stephanie and Ronald were apparently regular customers. They'd never seen Charlotte before though.

"That was somewhat embarrassing," I said to her as the maitre d' finally escorted us to our table.

"Trust me. He's way more embarrassed than us now," she whispered back.

Sure enough the poor bugger was fawning and fussing over us like we were the king and queen of France or something. He sat us in a quiet corner, next to a gilded sculpture of cupid. There was a bubbling fountain at his feet and it looked very romantic. The table had a vase full of fresh-cut roses in its center with a red candle floating in ornate glass bowls of water. The table cloths were red satin and the napkins were silk. The menus had no prices on them. I felt way out of my league, but I was loving it at the same time.

We sat down and grinned at each other commenting quietly on the posh surroundings we found ourselves in. Finally the waiter brought us two menus and scurried away as quickly as he'd come.

"What will you have, my dear?" Charlotte asked.

I could only stare at her happily, trying to shake myself out of the daze I was in, but not really wanting to. She flicked her eyes up at me from her menu and smiled.

"I'll have steak. Do they have steak here?"

"They have steak. How do you like it?"

"Medium rare, please."

"I think I'll have the lamb," she said, raising one eyebrow at the menu. "It looks to die for."

The waiter came, and looked at me expectantly. Charlotte handed me her menu and looked at me as well.

"Well," I said, realizing that I was to order for us. "My stunning companion here will have the lamb, and I believe I'll have a steak, medium rare, sir, if you please."

"You do not care for an appetizer before you begin?"

I looked at Charlotte and she shook her head in negation. She was famished.

"No. I think we'll get right down to the meal. Thanks."

"Very good. And to drink?"

"Can we get some wine?" I asked.

"I'm afraid not, sir," the waiter said in a rather condescending tone.

"Why don't you ask Maurice if it would be okay," Charlotte told him.

"Very well then," he said. He went away and we saw him talking with Maurice, the maitre d' who had seated us. Maurice nodded and they strode into the kitchen. Moments later Maurice returned to our table with a bottle of the restaurant's finest. He poured us each a glass with a polite bow and hurried away again.

"You sure know how to get things your way, don't you?" I said.

Charlotte nodded. Her eyes were very sexy, sparkling with the happiness she felt being with me for our first romantic dinner. We clinked glasses and sipped at the wine. It was fairly dry, but had fullness to the flavor that I liked. I wasn't much of a wine drinker, but it seemed appropriate for a romantic evening.

Charlotte had her chin on her hand and was softly stroking her cheek with her fingers. The candle light refracting through her wine was casting a reddish hue onto her face. I don't know why, but I can still see that image in my mind's eye to this day. I wish I'd taken a picture of it.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"I feel good," she said. "Starving though."

"Your mom liked my love letter."

"I was just thinking about that," Charlotte smiled. "You read my mind."

"What were you thinking about it?"

"I was wishing I could feel the 'zero-gravity of being at the center of the universe with you' right now."

I lifted her hand to mine and kissed it.

"Soon enough," I said. "If there's one thing Sheila won't have a problem with, it'll be us being able to love one another for three days straight without getting sick of each other."

"I hear that, baby."

"Have you even sprung this whole thing on Steve yet?" I asked.

"Yeah. I talked to him at school today. He wanted to make out with me in the hallway, and I turned him down. He started to get a little pissed off at me, but I told him about the project we were doing and asked him if we wanted in. He was drooling like a dog over the idea. 'Fuck, yeah! I'm so there!' he said. I told him not to say anything to anyone about it, or it would be called off and he promised he'd keep it zipped. So he's in for the next production meeting."

"Cool," I said. "But is he gonna wanna fuck you while he's at it?"

"I told him what's what with you and me. I think he gets it. He's gonna be cool. He mostly excited about making a real live porno movie."

"Does he know about your parent's business?"

"Nope. I told him they make B-movies and documentaries, and he seemed to buy that."

"We'll have to tell Sheila not to mention anything about it around him."

"Yeah."

"So everything's ready then. I just gotta write it."

"No pressure or anything."

"No. I'll definitely keep it simple. It's our first try, and it'll be better not to aim too high. Just a whole lotta sex, and a little bit of dialog to prop up the story."

Charlotte looked down at the table and twiddled the corner of her napkin between her fingertips.

"I wish I could do you right now, Anthony," she said, with all seriousness.

"Really?" I smiled.

"What you think you're the only one who's hard up?"

"Well no, but-"

"You know I absolutely love your body, right? You know I adore every inch of you? You know I'd love nothing better than to lay naked with you and touch you in every place for the rest of my life, don't you? You know I'm a horny little slut to begin with, never mind being this close to you and not being able to jump you whenever I want it."

"I never thought about that actually. Sorry."

"No problem. I just don't want you to think you're the only one who's struggling with doing without here."

"I imagine you've had some pretty amazing sex, so it's not like you don't know what you're missing."

"You got that right, baby."

"Who's the best lover you've ever had?"

She raised her eyebrows at me in surprise.

"You have to ask?" she said.

"Well I don't know. I'm sure you've got some favorites notched onto your belt. Who's the best you've ever had?"

"Oh, Anthony," Charlotte said, shaking her head at me in disbelief.

"What?" I asked, smiling awkwardly, like I was missing the punch line of some joke. "Who is it? Just tell me. I've got to get over my jealousy sometime. I'm sure I'm at least as good as he is in some ways."

"You're so silly," she said again, taking a sip of her wine.

"Come on, tell me. I'm actually getting a little turned on thinking about you really getting off with some hot stud somewhere."

"You're really serious!?" Charlotte asked. "You don't know who the best sex I've ever had was with?"

"Was it recent? I only know who you've been with recently. I know about Trevor, but it's definitely not him. I know about Steve, but you haven't really done anything with him. Before that you were with Mick from the football team."

"Mickey Preston," Charlotte said.

"Yeah, I heard about that one. He's a good friend of mine. Was it him?"

"I'd have to say he's in the top five at least. How do you know him?"

"We used to have a paper route together when he lived down the street from me a few years back. We were like ten or eleven or something."

"I met him a the Major-Mart. I was stopping in to buy condoms for a girlfriend of mine and we struck up a conversation. The next thing you know he's in the car with me and we're back at his place. It only happened once though."

"But he was good though?"

"Top five, definitely."

"Well list off your top five lovers then," I asked. "I'm sure I compare to at least some of them."

"You're such an idiot!" she said, but her giggle made it more affectionate than insulting.

"What!? Why? Just tell me. I won't be jealous. I swear! I'll tell you who I've been with."

"Okay," Charlotte said. "Now this is interesting. How many girls have you been with altogether?"

"Well in reverse order I'd have to say, Charlotte Lawsen, Sheila Unger, Trisha Seares, Stacy Coranell, Lindsay Fenstien, Rebecca Drummond, Carol Anderson, and almost Sheila Unger."

"Who was the best out of all of those?" Charlotte asked.

"You, of course. Hands down."

"Uh-huh? So who do you suppose is my all-time favorite?"

"What? Me?"

"D'uh!."

Now I raised my eyebrows at her.

"It's true," she said, "and it's not just because I'm in love with you either. Actually, it's the other way around. I fell in love with you partly because you're the best lover I've ever had."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You got me to open up and feel emotions during sex. I'd never experienced that before."

"How did I do that?"

"I don't know, the look in your eyes when you look at me, the power of your body above me, making me feel like a helpless little girl in your arms, the way you seem to know exactly when to go slow, when to go fast. It's like we're perfect together or something, like pieces of a puzzle, and that just gets me all emotional."

She released a labored sigh, as though even thinking about it was stirring her up all over again.

"Sex with other guys always had a certain clumsiness about it, no matter how hot it was. I never quite felt finished when it was over. It was strange. With you though, I always feel fucked to a fine finish, even when I don't even come. Don't ask me why. I don't know why. All I know is you're the best sex I've ever had, and I don't think I'll ever find anyone better."

"So you'll have to hang on to me then," I said.

"I plan to," she replied.

Then our food arrived.

We ate, rarely taking our eyes off of each other. There was something beautiful even about watching her eat. She even fed me, and that was one hell of a deeply erotic moment. She pressed a bite of steak into my mouth and wiped my chin with the silk napkin while I chewed it. It was tender and delicious. I've never had a better steak, but having her feed it to me made it even more exquisite. I fed her in turn and she chewed the mouthful with closed eyes, reveling in the sensuality of it.

Our wine was long gone, and not even Maurice would bring us more. He gave us a free bottle of sparkling punch though. It was close enough to champagne. We didn't complain. We were minors after all and we'd already had a glass of some of the finest wine available. We sipped at it as though it were wine, and toasted one another.

We made our way through the meal, and even ordered some dessert. She had some sort of peach flavored cheesecake, and I had a bowl of mint ice cream, slathered in chocolate syrup. She gave me the cherry from the top of her dessert and I took it in my mouth from the tips of her fingers.

"Now you can say you took my cherry," she giggled.

"It was sweet," I replied.

"Part of me kind of wishes I'd saved it for you. That would have been beautiful."

"I've taken more cherries from you than you even realize," I said.

"How do you figure?"

"Well there was the cherry of being your first boyfriend, the cherry of being your first real love, the cherry of being the best lover you've ever had, the first guy your dad ever approved of."

"Now that you mention it, you have made quite a virgin out of me, haven't you?"

"Well the opposite, actually."

"Oh yeah, right. You've made a non-virgin out of me."

"My favorite cherry is being your first love."

Charlotte smiled up at me, and then glanced down at the remains of her cake. Then she looked up again, right into my eyes.

"You've ripped into my virgin heart, and made it bleed for you."

I shuddered at that, and had to close my eyes for a moment. It was too intense.

"I have, haven't I?" I said finally.

"You have," she replied.

It was after ten by the time we got back. I walked Charlotte to her door.

"I love you," she told me.

"I love you too," I replied.

We hugged on her doorstep and she asked me straight up how I felt about everything.

"I just feel so happy and free inside, you know? Like everything's just perfect for the first time in my life. For the first time in my life I don't have to worry about my girlfriend fucking around on me and breaking my heart. It feels so good."

Charlotte looked up from the floor between us. There were tears in her eyes.

"I learned something new tonight, Anthony," she said.

"What's that?"

"I learned that I don't really want to mess around with other guys after all. I just want you. You're all I need."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I thought I would want to keep doing that stuff, but now I realize it just doesn't measure up to you. All I want is you."

I felt a weight lift from my soul. Some secret sorrow deep down inside me was suddenly relieved and I could actually feel it rise out of me and float away into the night. Charlotte's eyes were wet and shining and though she wasn't smiling, I could see a smile in them. She suddenly grabbed me and hugged me tightly to herself.

"I only every want you," she said again, and she broke down sobbing like a helpless child. I let the moment pass without responding. Tears were flowing down my cheeks as well, and if I'd tried to talk my voice would have sounded quite silly I think.

After a few minutes we managed to compose ourselves. Finally I could speak.

"See, this is why I love you, Charlotte. Every time I think you've already made me the happiest man alive, you come along and top it with something new and more wonderful than before."

We held each other in silence again after that. Finally she broke away and held me at an arm's length, checking if I wasn't really a dream, or at least the look in her eye seemed to suggest that.

"I love you, Anthony. You gotta get home though. You've still got writing to do."

"I know. I've also got a very cold shower to take. Wish me luck getting through the night."

I turned and headed for my truck.

"Just think about baseball scores or something," she called out to me.

"I'll try."

"Good night, Anthony. I love you."

"I love you too."

I got in my truck and began the drive home.

"Think about baseball scores, she says. She's so cute!"

The shower didn't help much. The images of hot sex with Charlotte were fresh in my mind. The baseball score idea didn't help either. By the time I'd gotten through a couple pages of writing the script for our movie I found myself going a little crazy in the head from too much sexual stimulation. I tried to simply go to sleep, but I was tortured with a raging hard on, cold shower and baseball scores notwithstanding.

I was exhausted though. It had been a long and crazy day though, and once the lights went out and my eyes were closed, I was drifting off to sleep.

I dreamed of fucking Janine Best, and Nurse Betty, and Rebecca Drummond, while Sheila sat next to Charlotte watching me and playing chess with one another on a board with pink and red pieces.



-------

Chapter 15: Late-night Visitor


I woke up somewhere in the night to a light tapping on my window. I didn't know what it was at first, being half asleep, but the tapping continued and grew steadily louder.

Tap-tap-tap. Tap-Tap-Tap.

"What?" I asked, though nobody could hear me. I had been dreaming of some nice slippery sex and was a little irritated at being woken.

Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap!

Finally it occurred to me that someone was there, tapping at my window. I sat up and stumbled over to see who it was, thumping my knee on the corner of the desk as I went.

I swiped the curtains open and looked down. There was a girl standing in my back yard beneath my window. She saw my face appear and began gesturing for me to open the window.

To my groggy, half-shut eyes it looked like Sheila.

I opened my window the four inches it would move and leaned down to whisper through the gap at the bottom.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I need to talk to you, Anthony," she said. "It's really important."

"What time is it?" I asked.

"I don't know. It's after three I guess. Can you come out?"

"I'm in my pajamas," I lied. Actually I was bare-assed naked. My semi-erect manhood was stretched out across the top of my desk. The glass of the desktop was cold.

"Please," she continued. "It's really important. It's about Sheila."

I rubbed my eyes and looked again. Apparently it wasn't Sheila out there, but it was someone who knew her.

"I'll be right out," I said.

I tugged on a pair of old sweat pants and pulled a hoody over my head. Then I crept out the side door and went around toward my bedroom window. The night was chilly, and there was an eerie cloudscape partly obscuring the moon.

There beneath my window was Vanessa Unger, Sheila's mom.

"Sorry to drag you out of bed like this. I didn't want to phone."

"It's alright. What's going on?" I asked. I was suddenly worried.

"Can we go somewhere and talk?" Vanessa asked.

I led her to the love-swing in our back yard. It was a rickety old thing we'd had since I was a kid. The thing didn't even swing anymore, having sagged right down to the ground. It was more of a bench really. We sat down on it and Vanessa released a heavy sigh. Then there was silence.

"So what's going on with Sheila?" I asked.

"I don't know. She's been really moody lately. More so than usual and I was beginning to worry about her. She's had her ups and downs lately but I've never seen her like this before. The worst part about it all is that she won't even talk to me about it. Every time I try to talk to her, it turns into a fight. I'm going crazy! I thought you might have some ideas."

Okay, so I gathered it wasn't a total emergency. I relaxed a bit. It seemed like Vanessa simply needed someone to talk to.

"She told me she talked to you the other day, after me and her, you know, did it."

"Well it was mostly me doing the talking. She only said like two or three words the entire conversation."

"What did she say?" I asked.

"I asked her how the, um, sex was, with you, and she said 'It was nice, I guess.' I said, 'Just nice?' and she says, 'I didn't realize I had to answer to you about my sex life, ' and that was it. She didn't say anything else the whole time. I tried my best to reach out to her and to even just be a friend you know, but she was so cold it was almost scary."

"Well she hasn't been talking much to me either since then, if it's any consolation."

"No, that's not really a consolation at all. I thought you two were close friends."

"Well we are, I mean, at least I think we are. Ever since that day, Sheila's been acting strangely—really short with me, and she's usually very talkative."

"Yeah, I noticed that too. I thought it might have something to do with her dad, you know, since the anniversary of his death is coming up, but I don't know. She never talks about him. She never looks at his picture. I thought it might all be about her dad at first, but I didn't want to bring it up with her. Then I thought it might be drugs or booze or something, you know, or a combination of things perhaps. Kids act funny when they get into that stuff, but I couldn't find anything to suggest she was doing drugs, or drinking when I searched her room."

"You searched her room?" I asked.

"It's okay, I didn't ransack it or anything. I just breezed through it, you know, peeking in drawers, looking in her jewelry boxes and stuff. I was just worried that's all. But then I found that locked trunk under the bed."

Uh oh. The locked trunk.

"I couldn't get into it, but the next day, while she was in the bath I took that little key she wears around her neck and opened it up. I had to see what was in there. At first I was worried it might be drugs or booze, then I thought maybe it's all her mementos of her dad. Not so, apparently."

"What was in there?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Stacks and stacks of porn," Vanessa replied with an unreadable tone to her voice. I couldn't tell if she was mad, scared, relieved, or what.

"Porn?" I said. "Weird."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. At first I was shocked, but then I was glad it wasn't drugs or booze. But then I was alarmed. There's so much of it? I've heard of teen girls being curious about sex, but that's going overboard. She's got stacks of it!"

Now I could sense a little bit of a tremble in her voice.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm just a little cold, and a little shaken up I guess. I hope you don't mind me waking you up like this so late."

"I don't mind," I replied. "I've been just as concerned about Sheila lately as you are."

"Just let me know if you want me to go or anything. I'm mostly here just to talk to somebody about all this. I felt like I would freakin' explode if I didn't get it all out."

"How did you know which one was my bedroom?" I asked.

"Well the bedroom on the other side of the house has these frilly, flowery curtains. I took a lucky guess, I guess."

Vanessa shivered again. It was early spring and the nights were still fairly cool. Finally when I saw her lip quivering I scooted over and put my arm around her shoulder. She was indeed shivering. I could feel it even more from close up. She reached her arm around behind me and hugged me in return. Suddenly the conversation felt a whole lot more intimate, though the topic stayed the same.

"So after that, I closed the trunk and returned the key. But then I went back, got the key, and opened it up again. I don't know why really. I guess I was just curious as to what kind of movies they were. Were they just cheesy blue movies like you see on TV late at night, or was it the hardcore stuff, you know? I grabbed a video, a magazine, and a novel."

"And?" I asked.

"I put everything back the way it was, closed it all up again, and went and hid the stuff in my room. I kept telling myself I was just being a concerned mother, but I don't think that was entirely true, you know?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean," she said, softly stroking my waist a bit, "It's been a while for me, if you know what I mean. I think maybe, partly, on some level, I was thinking with the little head, so to speak. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah," I said.

I knew exactly what she meant. My little head was now standing up at attention, tickled to life by the soft touch of her fingertips on my waist as she spoke. In spite my best efforts to control my feelings of inner lust, the impetuous thing seemed to have a mind of its own.

"Anyway," she continued, speaking a little more slowly now, "After Sheila went to sleep I popped the video into the machine and sat there watching it for a while."

She paused awkwardly.

"And?" I asked.

"Well I was shocked at first, about how graphic it was. I mean, they were showing everything! Then I was a little upset that my daughter has been watching this stuff. I didn't know what to make of it, you know?"

"So what happened?"

"We got in a big huge fight. She caught me putting the movie back in her trunk and all hell broke lose. It was awful. I just had to talk to someone. I was laying in bed feeling angry, and frustrated, and then lonely and depressed, and all I could think about was how nice it would be if I had someone to talk to."

"So you came to see me," I said.

"I just thought you might have some insight into the problems with Sheila, or something."

"I honestly have no idea what's going on with her. I'm pretty sure she's not into drugs, or drinking. I know she's got no eating disorders, and she's got lots of friends at school."

"So it must be just me then," Vanessa said. Then she started to cry. I hugged her and she wept on my shoulder for a long time. "I'm trying my best. I really am. It's just so hard when you're all alone..."

"You're doing an awesome job, Vanessa. Sheila's one of my best friends. She's learned to be kind, caring, out-going, fun, and intelligent from you."

"You really mean it?"

I nodded.

"Just give her some time. Don't pressure her. Don't spy on her. Just give her some space to realize she really does love you. That's what my mom does and it works every time. Every once in a while I realize her and me haven't talked in a long time I really miss her. Sheila will be the same way."

"Thanks, Anthony. That makes a lot of sense. Thanks for everything, especially being her friend. Take care of her for me."

"I'll do my best," I said.

She gave me another hug and walked me to the back door.

I snuck back in the house and climbed into bed. My last thoughts before going to sleep were of Charlotte.

I didn't go to school the next morning. I don't even remember slapping my alarm clock off my night table, but when I woke up at about 10:30 in the morning, there it was, on the floor beside my bed.

"Oh shit!" I said.

My first thoughts were that Charlotte was at school and I was missing her there. I jumped out of bed, rinsed off in a quick shower and began frantically getting dressed. I had to get there as soon as I could.

But then my phone rang. It was Charlotte.

"Hey, baby," she said tiredly. "How ya doin'?"

"I'm okay, I was just about to head off to school to come see you."

"I'm not at school."

"You're not?"

"No. I wasn't feeling well this morning. I gots a little bug in my tummy."

She was so cute right then I just wanted to dash all the way to her house to give her a hug.

"I wasn't feeling too good either this morning. I don't even remember my alarm going off."

"My baby's tired?" Charlotte asked.

"Yeah. I missed you though, and I was practically running out the door to see you when the phone rang. How'd you know I was here?"

"A friend at school phoned me. She said she didn't see either of us there and she thought we might be skipping school together. So then I decided to give you a call. I thought you might be sick too. Maybe it was some bad food at the restaurant last night."

"No," I said. "I was just tired."

Then I broke into the story.

"I actually had a late-night visitor last night. You'll never guess who."

"Sheila?"

"Close."

"Who?"

"Sheila's mom came by here last night."

"No shit. Really?"

"Yeah," I replied. Then I told her the whole story from the very beginning.

"Just hearing you tell me that story makes me love you so much, baby. You're such a beautiful person to look after people like that."

"I love you, Charlotte," I said with a happy sigh.

"I love you too, baby," she replied. "Did you get our script done?"

"Not yet," I said. "I will though."

"Why don't you stay home and work on it today, since your home anyway. I'm not gonna bother going in today. I'm a wreck over here."

"How so?"

"I just feel nauseous, and head-achy, and stiff all over. You know."

"Do you need anything?"

"Nah. Mom and dad have got me covered—breakfast in bed, and the whole works—not that I ate it or anything. You just work on that script. Get at least three major sex scenes blocked in with whatever dialog you need in between. The whole thing should only be about 15 minutes long at most, or Sheila will never get all the editing done."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Damn are you ever gorgeous!" Charlotte said all of a sudden.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Mommy got those pictures of you developed and served them to me with breakfast. I'm just laying here swooning over you. You are like so hot, my baby! It's no wonder women are knocking on your window at 3 in the morning."

"Thanks," I said. "You're achingly beautiful yourself, my dear."

"Achingly?" Charlotte asked.

"Yes," I replied. "You make my heart ache just looking at you. It feels like I'm dying inside every time I'm around you."

"It's a nice kind of death though, isn't it? I feel that way all the time too."

"If I ever lost you I think I would die," I said.

"Me too," Charlotte replied.

Then there was silence, but I could hear her slowly flipping through the photographs and sighing to herself over there.

"Well, I'll let you go get to it then, my love. I think I'm gonna try and eat something here."

"I love you."

"Love you, too."

Then we said our goodbyes and hung up. I went to my bedroom, flopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time, just thinking. Then I rolled over, grabbed a pad of paper and a pen, and wrote:

Charlotte's Movie—"My Other Heart"

Starring Charlotte Lawsen and Anthony Mitchell.

Then I wrote the darn thing, and it was really good if I do say so myself.



-------

Chapter 16: The Script


It was Tuesday afternoon. I had just written an erotic screenplay, and I was hornier than I'd ever been in my life. My erection was aching and no matter what I did, it wouldn't relax. I was beginning to worry that I'd injure myself if I didn't come soon, but I eventually decided that that was impossible. No one ever died from having a hard on. It was just an inconvenience I'd have to deal with.

Writing the script took me a good three hours, and it was a hack-work of scribbles and arrows and such, indicating where the changes and rearrangements should go. It was written on loose-leaf in a red Duotang which I titled M.O.H. in big fat black felt marker letters.

I had an ice-cold shower, hollering all the way through, but felt better afterward. I still had a hard on when it was done, but it wasn't so painfully swollen. Weird.

I got myself dressed and headed to school, Duotang in hand, to intercept Sheila. I got there just as she was heading across the back field of the school grounds. She was marching along, rather happily in the direction of her home, looking up at the clouds in the bright blue sky and humming to herself, with her books clutched to her chest, and a purse over her right shoulder. I stopped in my tracks, just staring hard at her for a moment. She looked so beautiful right then.

She almost walked right into me.

"Anthony!" she said, screeching to a halt in front of me. Her purse slid down off her shoulder and swung outward from her forearm, slapping me in the thigh. "Holy shit!"

"Hi, She," I said. "How are you?"

Part of me was a little disappointed that she had not stumbled right into me. I'd actually wanted her to. I couldn't get the idea out of my mind that I had taken her virginity a few days earlier, and she was now a part of me, and I a part of her, forever.

"I'm okay, I guess. I was just heading home. Where were you today?"

"I was home sick. Well tired mostly. I slept in today and just decided to skip school altogether. I finished the script and I wanted you to be the first to see it."

"Why? Isn't it Charlotte's movie?"

"I know it is, but I want you to read it first, so I can make any changes before I show it to her."

Sheila looked at me strangely and then grabbed it from me.

"Thanks. I'm honored," she muttered, with a cold smirk.

"It's really good," I said. "Well I think so anyway. I want you to tell me what you honestly think. Don't pull no punches."

"I promise," she said, smacking me in the shoulder with it.

We got to a bench at the back of the school grounds and she sat down on it. I paced around excitedly while she read, picturing all the scenes, all the angles, all the wet nasty sex. It was so exciting I was almost shaking.

Sheila's face was blank as she read it. I couldn't read any emotion.

"So she's gonna have to dye her hair halfway through the shoot," Sheila said.

"Yeah," I said. "Just to sort of reinforce the different personalities. When she's Fiona, her hair will be reddish, when she's Jen, her hair will be blond. You think that'll work?"

"I don't know, Ant. It might be overkill, you know what I mean? I think the audience will get it without having us beat them over the head with it. Maybe just a change in voice tone would do it. I'll coach her on that."

She was right, now that I thought of it. Having Charlotte dye her hair for all the scenes where she was the aggressive slut character was perhaps a little too blunt.

"The last thing we want to do is imply that the audience is stupid. It'll be way more powerful if they suddenly 'get it' on their own."

"Right!" I said slowly, suddenly getting it on my own.

"And this part here, where you're filling in the back story in dialog? Don't do that. It's really unrealistic for Fiona to be talking like a narrator, and it'll take the audience out of the story a bit."

"Which part?"

"Well, here: 'When I was little, I was locked in a pitch-black closet all day at a friend's house, and my parents didn't find me until morning. That's when I first met Fiona. I was laying there screaming and crying for an hour and finally I heard her voice teasing me, telling me what a baby I was.' It just seems a little forced at this point in the story, know what I mean?"

"I just thought the audience should know what happened in the back story."

"Why?"

A gust of wind blew a lock of hair across her face, and she brushed it away with her fingertips.

"I mean," she continued, "they're right in the middle of fucking. Whose gonna go into a long psychological tirade right then?"

"Hmmm," I said. "I don't know."

"If we use that bit at all, we should stick it up front where it matters. By this point we should have figured all that out already."

She said a few more things about it, and it all made sense. By the time she had finished I had to admit it was 10 times better.

"Thanks so much, She," I said. "This is exactly why I brought this to you."

I gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then, for no reason at all I gave her a big deliciously wet French kiss as though she were the last woman alive. She didn't pull away for a second. It was hot and passionate and we broke away slowly. She tasted sweet and the sweetness lingered, even after it was over.

"What was that all about?" Sheila said.

What was it about? While it was going on, I was mostly feeling incredible love for Charlotte, knowing that she wouldn't mind at all that I was kissing Sheila. I felt so free, and so totally in love at the same time. It should have been a contradiction but it wasn't, and that was strange and wonderful to me.

"I don't know. I just felt like it. Because I can, I guess."

"Cocky bastard."

Then she kissed me.

"You wanna fuck me, baby? My pussy is wet and ready right now, and my house is only two minutes away."

Her voice was sweet, sexy, and seductive. My mouth fell open. I'd never heard her talk like that before, and yes, I did want to fuck her, though it was purely a physical desire.

"You're joking, right?"

"Am I?" she said. "I'm a woman now. You made sure of that. Now I'm free to fuck whoever I want, whenever I want. You think I'm kidding?"

"I don't know."

A smirk spread reluctantly across her face. Then she laughed at me.

"Of course I'm kidding, dummy. You're taken, remember? And besides, we're supposed to be saving this stuff for your big shoot."

"Um, yeah," I said. I got up and stumbled a bit on shaky legs. "I should go. Are you gonna be able to book off all your babysitting for the weekend?"

"It's already taken care of."

"Great! I'll be at Charlotte's tonight. You can call me there if you need me."

Sheila cocked an eyebrow at me, and then shook her head, rolled her eyes, and gathered her books up. I grinned not really getting whatever unspoken joke she was trying to convey, and took a couple of steps toward home. Then remembered the talk with Vanessa and I turned around again.

"Listen, She. I was wondering if you'd gotten a chance to hook up with any of these other guys you were holding out on all this time. Have you had any luck?"

"Why do you ask?"

I could still taste the kiss on my tongue and I wanted to kiss her again.

"I don't know. I was just wondering. You really should go for it."

"You'll be the first to know if I do," she said.

We went our separate ways.

I rewrote the whole thing, implementing the changes Sheila had suggested, and making all the corrections I'd noted to myself. Rewriting ten pages by hand was no picnic. Doing it twice was even worse, but I didn't have a computer at the time, so I was pretty much stuck.

Finally it was done though. I shredded all the old pages into about a million pieces and flushed them down the toilet, for fear my mom would find them. Then I headed out the door.

Minutes later I was at the Lawsen residence.

Mrs. Lawsen came out from behind the house as I pulled up the driveway. She was wearing a bikini that left pretty much nothing to the imagination. She might as well have been naked. I could even see the sexy pout of her pussy lips through the sheer fabric of the bikini crotch. I accidentally slammed the door on my knee getting out of the truck and I dropped the Duotang on the driveway.

"Homework?" Stephanie said, picking it up and handing it to me.

My heart damn near exploded out of my chest right then. The very first page inside had the cast of characters for a movie that included her daughter. If she'd have opened it up and looked at it we'd have been busted for sure. She hadn't though, thank God. My heart was pounding like a jackhammer though and my face flushed hot. She looked at me curiously.

"Yeah," I said. "I had to pick up some assignments from school because I was away as well today."

I opened the door again and flung the thing back inside the cab.

"Those pictures turned out nice," Stephanie said. "We're getting a couple of them enlarged and framed in the living room. I hope you're not planning on breaking up with Charlotte any time soon."

"I'd die first," I said with all seriousness.

"Good," Steph replied. "I'm sure Charlotte feels the same way. So our $150 is not going to go to waste."

We had strolled around to the back of the house as we talked, and there was Charlotte, lying wrapped in a blanket on a luxurious-looking deck chair.

"Feeling better?" I asked her.

"Much."

"Me too."

"Mom and dad have been taking care of me all day. I feel like such a little princess."

"You are a little princess," I said.

I sat down beside her and kissed her forehead. She was as beautiful as ever, in spite of her illness.

"Can you come for a drive?" I said, winking at her. "I've got something to show you."

"Trust me, she's seen it," Stephanie joked. "Up close and larger than life."

Charlotte evidently decided to play along with her joke, wanting to avoid even the hint that we were going to be looking at a porn script.

"If you want to fuck me, just ask, baby," Charlotte said, winking back. "You don't need to 'take me for a drive', or anything like that." She made finger quotes in the air to emphasize the euphemism, and Stephanie laughed gaily from the deck chair next to us.

"Yes, Anthony," Stephanie said. "Don't ever feel the need to hide what you guys do from us. Sneaking around is more offensive than fucking our daughter right in front of our eyes. We know she fucks. We've seen it many times. We encourage it in fact. Just be real, and everything will be fine."

"Well, then," I said. "Do you want to come for a drive so we can go somewhere and fuck like animals until we're sore from it?"

"Sounds like fun. Just let me get dressed."

Char disappeared into the house, and her dad came out. He sat down on a third deck chair, next to Stephanie, kissing her cheek with such tender affection that I was suddenly jealous of the perfection of their love. I could stand to take a few lessons from the man.

Charlotte wandered out again and sat in my lap, cuddling up to me for a moment as though trying to keep warm. It was a bright sunny afternoon though.

"I can't get enough of this boy, mom. What the hell is wrong with me?"

Stephanie mumbled something back, and I gathered she said something to the effect of total agreement on her part concerning Ron.

We got up and headed for the truck. We drove away and I just cruised around while she read my script. She pulled the pen from the spine of the notebook and began crossing out entire chunks of dialog. I looked at her with intense curiosity.

"Don't mind me," she said. "I'm just cutting out stuff that would just never work on screen. You're thinking like a novel-writer here. It's great stuff, but it's just not gonna play well on camera."

She got through the whole thing, and I was feeling a little self-conscious, hearing the pen strokes wiping out entire sections of my heart-felt dialog. When she looked up there were tears in her eyes though.

"It's absolutely brilliant!" she said. "I don't know what to say."

"Really?" I asked. "I kinda figured you didn't like it, by the way you were cutting things out there."

"No, no! Not at all. I cut stuff out, but only stuff that's taking away from the power of what's essentially there — a heart-wrenching story of love and sacrifice. Oh my god, Anthony! I love it. Fiona dies in the end, giving herself up for the greater good, but not really. They actually become one whole being! It's beautiful! And you did it all inside of an extremely arousing framework and in the right time-span too."

"You think we can pull it off?"

"Damn right, we can."

"Cool."

"Has Sheila seen this?"

"Yes, actually. This is the second draft. She helped me rework the first draft into this."

"It's incredible work. If only we could get you writing for daddy. He could use some good stories like this."

"I'd feel too weird."

"His current writer gets $25,000 a pop."

"Holy fuckin' shit!" I said.

"Yeah, seriously. Daddy pays the talent well. It's part of what makes the company successful. It also keeps people very loyal. Mom and dad are well-respected across the whole industry."

"Do you want a drink?" I said. We had pulled into a convenience store parking lot and were sitting there parked.

"Sure. Some fruit juice would be nice."

I got out and got it for her, getting myself a drink as well. When I came out there was a very sexy brunette leaning in the window talking to Char. I noticed her ass first, because she was sort of bent over with her back arched, waving it back and forth playfully. You couldn't not notice it. It was gorgeous.

"Anthony, this is my friend Jade," she said. "Her daddy's in the business too. We've been friends since we were little."

"Hi, Jade," I said.

"Damn, you're fine, boy," Jade said bluntly. "Are you gonna let me try him out sometime?"

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind," Char said.

"So what are you guys doing?" Jade asked.

"Nothing. Just driving around."

"I'm meeting some friends for a bit o' the hot and nasty. You wanna come along?"

"Anthony and I are saving ourselves for a nasty hot fuck tomorrow night. He's being holding it in all week and when he finally does come it's gonna coat me like a Boston cream pie, right in the face. It'll be awesome."

"Sick, making him abstain like that, but a wicked idea. I'll have to try that sometime, if I can make it."

"I know. It's been hell. I've wanted to fuck him every minute of the day since Sunday night when we last did it."

"Well just call my cell, and we'll hook up later, Char."

Jade walked away and I saw that she was indeed deliciously padded in all the right places as she wandered into the store. She wasn't in rock-solid shape like Char was, but her curves were appealing in their own visually satisfying way. I could see her ass jiggle as she nudged the door open with her hip to let a little kid out of the store with his arms full of drinks and snacks.

"She's crazy," Char said, also eyeing her up from beside me. "We got drunk one night with some guys. It was very naughty. She squeals like a maniac when she comes. It sounds like a fucking semi slamming on its brakes or something."

Charlotte laughed at that, and then turned to find me staring at her.

"I love you, Char," I said, seeing beauty in her that no other woman alive could ever compete with.

We were parked on the street across from a park near Charlotte's place. It was late afternoon now, and there were kids running around the park battling one another with sticks and cardboard shields, vying for dominance of the childhood kingdom laid out before them, with so much passion and drama that it was hardly even a game anymore.

We hugged for a long while. Just holding each other, not talking, not kissing. Eventually the kids went home and we got out of the truck to go for a walk together. It was getting dark outside now, which was a surprise because it didn't really feel like we'd been there that long.

Charlotte stood looking up at the sky, pondering the stars perhaps. I couldn't tell what she was thinking. She looked intensely beautiful. Even watching her breathing was exciting. She closed her eyes after a moment and took in the cool night air. Her head dropped back and her chest thrust out with each breath. Her long blond hair flowed down past her butt and her hands were slightly spread outward from her hips, palms up, as though catching something that fell down from above.

Wow.

"Feel that?" she said.

"What?" I asked.

"I don't know. It just feels like life. It's amazing."

I looked up at the sky, and then back at her. The night sky above our little city was pretty, but it was nothing compared to her. The only amazing thing I felt was the energy that seemed to flow out of her.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"I think you're a prism," I said after a moment.

"A prison?"

"No, a prism. I can look at anything beautiful in this world and it just seems flat and one-dimensional, but when I look at it through you it becomes a rainbow; looking at you looking at the stars is more beautiful than the stars themselves. I guess that's what I'm trying to say. Does that make sense? I don't know. I feel kind of mushy in the head right now."

Charlotte hurried up to me as though I were about to flee or something. She crushed me against the side of my truck and locked onto me with a passionate kiss. She squealed in ecstasy as she kissed me, as though some great joy was exploding inside her like fireworks. She squealed and laughed and moaned and sighed into the kiss, but kept kissing without a pause. I gripped her too, feeling a little unworthy of such adoration, but grateful at the same time.

Then she broke the kiss and told me the exact same thing I was thinking right at that moment.

"I don't deserve you," she said.

I didn't have an answer, so I just let her kiss me some more. She kissed me as though her very life depended on showing me how much she loved me at that moment, and in some convoluted sort of irony, I began to see stars — little twinkling sparks that floated dizzily behind my eyes. I sort of watched them and sort of watched her at the same time. She broke away looked at me kind of funny. The stars seemed to be trying to touch her.

"Breathe," she told me, giving me a little shake.

I gasped in a deep breath and suddenly realized I had completely forgotten to even breathe. Holy shit! I stood there panting and soon the stars went away.

"I'm so desperately in love with you I think I might die from it," I said.

"You and me both."

She pressed her ear to my chest and held me there for a while, listening to my heartbeat as I softly stroked her hair.

"Do you want to go somewhere?" I asked after a few minutes.

"I want you to make love to me again. I'm literally aching for it, Anthony. You have no idea."

"Well, take everything you're feeling, turn it inside out, and point it back at yourself. That's where I'm at right now."

She thought about that for a moment.

"I'm really that amazing," she said. "If you're feeling for me what I feel for you right now, I must be a fucking goddess or something."

I did not disagree.

"Fucking sexy bastard, if you don't fuck me right here and now I'm gonna fucking rape you!"

"Wait! Wait! Don't!" I said, trying to wrestle her off me. "The- The movie, Charlotte. We've already come this far. We can wait a little more!"

"No! You need to fuck me right now! Fuck the movie, and fuck everything on earth except you inside me! Right now!"

She was dangerously aggressive. She actually had my cock out and was trying to yank my jeans down when I grabbed her by the wrists and managed to wrestle her arms behind her back. She was strong though, and fighting like a hungry tigress.

"Oh God! Fuck me, Anthony. Please fuck me!"

"No!" I said firmly. "You need to calm down or you'll be bruised for the video tomorrow."

"FUCK!" she screamed, and then, not surprisingly, burst out bawling like a baby. She literally crumbled in my arms and was all sobs and confusion.

"I'm sorry, Charlotte," I said, "but I promised to do this and I'm gonna stick to it, if for no other reason than to prove to myself on some level that our relationship is not all just an illusion of lust. It's happened to me before and my fucking soul would die if it happened again with you. I love you with everything inside me and you have to believe that without me fucking you silly, and I have to know that you believe that."

Charlotte's sobs wound down. After a while she answered.

"You're right, Anthony. I'm sorry. I'm being stupid. I'm being Charlotte the horny little slut who uses sex to hide from her emotions. I'm, you know, I've never been in love before and I don't know how to feel, and I don't know what to think, and I'm all over the place in my head. I feel like a little child and a burning hot sex goddess at the same time, and I don't know how to deal with the insanity of it. All I know is I feel like I'm dying inside right now because I can't explain to you how much I totally love you in every single way. The only way I've ever known was by sucking you and fucking you and making you come. Without that I feel useless."

Then we were both silent, both breathing heavy, both sort of crying, in the darkness.

"Hey," I said. "Look at me."

She did. We were face to face again.

"Tell me you love me," I said.

"I do."

"So tell me. Explain it. Use words instead of sex."

"No! I can't explain it with words. I'm not like you, and that's what makes me sadder. I'm no good with explaining things. I just feel this great big mush of life and death and desperation and power inside me that's all about you and it's driving me crazy because I can't fucking explain it right! I just want to fuck you because the pleasure, the pleasure, the fucking delirious pleasure — it makes it real, sort of, like, I don't know. The pleasure makes the words I want to say not even have to be said. And it makes the crazy scary feeling go away for a while because I feel like I'm touching you in every way."

Wow.

I just hugged her. I was looking into a window of her soul and I fully understood how she felt about me in that moment. I was completely in love with her and there was nothing in between our hearts and minds at that point. There was absolute clarity and I just wanted to take care of her forever. That's not the feeling I expected at that moment. In the past I'd simply felt the dread of ever seeing the girls I loved with other men. With Charlotte though, I just felt like all the love inside me was about her, and I didn't even matter. It was like walking out of a house and being surprised to see stars in the sky, when you were expecting the harsh glare of the sun. I realized that I'd perhaps finally discovered true love.

"I'm never, ever, ever going to leave you Charlotte. Not ever. You're my girl and I don't want anyone else. I'm never, ever, ever gonna change my mind about that. Not ever. I need you more than I need to breathe."

So then she started bawling again, and I wasn't sure if they were happy tears, sad, tears, or scared tears. I wiped them away with my thumbs and kissed her again. That seemed to calm her a bit.

"Do you know how good it feels, to know the one person who means everything to you will do everything in his power to keep you by his side forever, to love you and cherish you forever?"

Charlotte said this looking me in the eyes and softly caressing my lips.

"Do you feel that way about me?"

"YES!" she said. "What else can I say to convince you!?"

"I'm already convinced," I said. "I just like hearing you say it."

"And I just need you to keep being you, because you're absolutely perfect!"

"I doubt that."

"Come on, Anthony. Don't you think I tried to think up a million and a half reasons not to fall in love with you? I couldn't think of a single one though, and it scared the hell out of me. It still does."

"Time will tell, I guess. You're probably just biased right now. Love is blind, right?"

"Maybe, but I don't think anything I ever find about you will ever outweigh the perfection I see in you right now."

"I hope not."

Then we kissed again, leaning up against my truck, in the park, in the night, beneath a glowing street lamp

"Tomorrow," I said, "Sheila will capture one of the most beautiful love scenes every recorded."

"No fuckin' kidding," Charlotte replied.



-------

Chapter 17: Final Preparations


The phone rang the next morning. I wasn't even awake yet and I could already hear Charlotte's voice.

"I love you, my sweet, beautiful, sexy man. How are you?"

"Fantastic now."

"Me too. Except I'm dying inside every minute I'm away from you."

"Is everything ready to go for tonight?" I asked with a grin she could probably see right through the phone.

She sighed.

"My parents' flight leaves at 2:15. I want you to take the afternoon off with me so we can drive them to the airport. I don't drive so well downtown, but I wanted to see them off. Can you do that?"

"Of course."

"Then we should be home by the time school's done and we can get Steve and Sheila to meet us at my place."

"Then we'll be fucking," I said.

"Oh my god, yeah!"

"I can't wait!"

Charlotte just groaned in response, a long, slow, frustrated groan, like a starving woman with a steak dangling before her nose.

"I gotta go take a bath," she said. "I'm so excited."

She giggled, and I throbbed again.

"How do you feel?" she asked me. "Are you ready?"

"Every minute is torture until then, my dear. I swear."

"Once this is done, I'm not gonna stop doing you," she said. "I'll be a slave to your every pleasure for the rest of my days, and I'll just fucking love it. You deserve nothing less, my master."

"I fucking love you, Char. Dammit!"

I almost felt like crying, she dazzled me so much. I closed my eyes and saw her breasts in front of me, bouncing as I fucked her, and the look in her eyes, and the smell of her skin, her gorgeous long hair sprayed out like golden angel wings beneath her, her wet sexy thighs spread in a welcoming display of sexual submission, her tongue sparkling between her lips like a sweet wet peach, calling me forward into a kiss...

"I gotta go," she said. "I'm going nuts over here, just thinking about it."

She was apparently thinking the same thing I was, and that made it even sexier. I shuddered, snapping myself out of the lustful stupor.

"Me too," I replied.

"Soon, my love. Okay?"

"Yeah. Soon."

School was hell. I sat through my three morning classes like a total zombie. I had a hard on through the whole thing too, and that made it even worse. Girls were poking each other and pointing at me, whispering and giggling. I didn't care much about that though. The thing that pissed me off was how slow the clock was going. Every time I glanced up at the clock expecting ten minutes to have gone by, I was dismayed to see that it was only a minute or so later. This went on for three hours and it was torture.

Suddenly someone slipped a note into my hand: Can I get a piece of that?

I glanced up and saw about four different girls staring at me. Which one had written it? I gave them a lazy smile and went back to pretending to stare at my text book.

A second note found its way into my hand: I'm serious. I really want to fuck you!

I glanced up at the four girls and raised an eyebrow this time. I looked from one girl to another to another, scanning for clues as to who wrote it. Nobody 'fessed up though. Finally I pointed at the note and looked puzzled at them. They all looked over at Janine Best who, when she saw me glance over at her, gave me a killer sexy smile and a wink. She was pumping a lolly-pop slowly in and out of her mouth. I shuddered.

Ah Janine Best, the gothy-looking little sex pot who'd been mildly flirting with me a few days before. Apparently she had stepped up her campaign to seduce me. I returned her smile and turned back to my book.

Moments later, another note slid into my hand: Charlotte said she's fine with it, if you're game. Are you?

I wrote back: When did she say this?

She replied: On the phone last week.

I concluded the correspondence with this: We'll talk.

When class was done, I waited for everyone to leave the room so they wouldn't see me walk out with an erection thrusting out of my pants. I just sat there watching everyone leave, still pretending to be engrossed in my text book. When the teacher followed the last student out, I began throwing my books into my bag. Then I headed for the office, telling them I would not be in classes that afternoon as I had errands to run — personal family business that they didn't ask about. I also told them I might not be in the next day either, depending on how I was feeling. Friday was a day off. The secretary nodded, scribbled down a note to herself about it and waved me away.

Over by the front doors I chatted with Steve for a bit, reminding him to meet us at Charlotte's house at around four.

"I can't believe how lucky you are!" he said. "I would kill to fuck Charlotte Lawsen, and here you are making porn with her."

"You wanna keep it down there, buddy?"

"Oh, sorry," he said. "I'm just excited. That's all. You're the luckiest bastard on earth."

As if to underscore that statement, Janine walked up right then, dangled her panties in front of me and dropped them into my palm, right in front of Steve and anyone else who might have been watching. I shook my head at her, smiling, and she raised an eyebrow at me.

"I meant what I said, Mitchell. My number's on the underwear. Don't keep me waiting."

Then she swaggered away, looking a little shaky on her feet.

Steve stared at me completely stunned. I turned to him a grinned, shoving the panties into my pocket.

"Holy fuckin' shit!" Steve said. "You're a god! I swear!"

"Nah," I said. "She's a friend of Charlotte's. She's just teasing me."

"Didn't look like a tease to me! She looked like she would have dropped to her knees and sucked you off right here and now, if you would have told her to!"

"Maybe."

"Girls don't just give away their panties like that, man! She totally wants you."

"I belong to Charlotte now."

"Lucky bastard."

Then I got serious again.

"So be at Charlotte's at four, then. And remember, we're there to work. No fucking around. Got it?"

"I got it."

"In fact, you might want to jerk off a couple of times before you get there, because it might be hard to deal with if you don't. You'll be coming in your pants."

"Way ahead of you, man. I've been jerking off all day."

"Okay, too much information, but whatever. Come prepared to work."

Then I was in my truck driving over to Charlotte's house.

They were eating lunch when I got there. It was quiet. I gathered they were feeling a bit hung over. There were still a couple of porn stars flopped about on couches and chairs, not passed out or anything, just sort of lazily relaxing, waiting to see the Lawsens off. Doug was there too.

"How's it going, man?" he said.

"It's good," I replied, in my best clued-out schoolboy voice.

"Cool," he said back, and went back to the plate of food he was eating.

"Well, it looks like it's time to go," Ron said. "You all look after my little girl now. Pop in on her through the week. Make sure she's okay."

"Dad!" she said. "I don't need anyone to check up on me! What am I? Nine years old?"

"Come on, Ron," Stephanie said. "She's a big girl. She can take care of herself. Besides, she's got Anthony here with her. I'm sure he won't leave her side the entire week."

"I'm not planning to," I said.

"In any case, a pop-in won't do any harm, will it?" Ron said.

"Dad," Charlotte said. "I need privacy. This is our first weekend alone together. I don't want babysitters popping in on me!"

"I just wanna make sure you're gonna be okay."

"I'll be fine. Look at me. I'm sixteen! I'm not a little girl anymore."

Ron kissed her on the forehead.

"Pop in on her, guys. She needs supervision. Even if it's just a quick hello and goodbye, I'll want to know she's okay."

His word seemed to be final, and Charlotte didn't argue anymore.

The group helped them to the car with their suitcases and Charlotte and I got into the front. Ron and Stephanie got in the back. They waved us off and piled into their own cars one by one.

There was little conversation on the way to the airport. I drove, nervously obeying every traffic law the entire way, and Ron and Stephanie kissed and cuddled in the back seat. I shot Charlotte a glance and she grimaced at me in panic. What were we going to do? How can we get into making a porn movie with her dad's friends popping in on us every few hours? We'd be caught for sure!

We got them to the airport and waved them off as they boarded the flight. In spite of her exasperation, Charlotte did genuinely seem like she loved her dad, and would miss him dearly. She hugged him hard for a long time and kissed him on the cheek. Her mom gave her a hug as well, and told her to take good care of me.

Then they were gone.

"Oh god, Anthony! What the hell are we gonna do!?"

"I have no idea! Do you think he knows what we're planning?"

"I don't think so. He always gets people to check up on me like that."

"We're gonna need a lookout."

"I think so. We need someone to stay upstairs the whole weekend and give us a shout if anyone stops in. We have to be ready at a moment's notice to stop everything and look like we're simply playing pool down there or something."

"Who to get though?"

"Who can we trust?"

"I don't know."

We thought about it as we walked to the car, and all of a sudden Charlotte noticed a bulge in my pants.

"What's that?" she asked. "In your pocket?"

"Oh!" I said, laughing light-heartedly, "That is a pair of panties, courtesy of your good friend Janine Best, who you supposedly set upon me like a bitch in heat."

Charlotte laughed loud at that.

"She really came after you? I thought she was just kidding?"

"Well nothing happened. She passed me a couple of notes in class but I said maybe later. Then she brought me her panties when she was on her way out of the school, as a souvenir I guess."

Charlotte laughed again, apparently unphased that a friend of hers was hitting on me.

"How well do you know Janine?" I asked.

"I've known her for years. We're not exactly best friends or anything, but she's always been cool to me."

"Do you think she'd be cool to stand watch for us?"

Charlotte's face lit up like I'd just turned on a light bulb in front of her.

"She would actually. She owes me a favor."

"What favor?"

"I told her she could fuck my boyfriend, of course."

I laughed.

"So she'll do it?" I asked.

"Not for the entire weekend. I think we'll have to get two people."

"I could call Mick," I said. "He'd be cool for sure."

"Yeah, he would. I think that will work. It's still pretty scary though. We're gonna have to get all the shooting done in the first two days. I'm too nervous to drag it out any longer than that, with daddy's babysitters popping in on me every few hours."

"Janine and Mick will be there though."

"Yes, but do you realize how dead I'd be if they fell asleep on watch or something and I got caught?"

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"So we'll try and have everything done by Thursday night then. It's only a 15-minute movie, right?"

"Yeah. We should be fine. I'm just nervous, that's all."

I grabbed her hand as I drove. She was trembling a bit.

"Think about the fucking," I said.

She closed her eyes for the rest of the trip, leaning on me, releasing happy sighs every now and then.

"I'm wet already," she said, and I believed her.

When we got to her house, Steve and Sheila were sitting on her front stairs.

"We've got a problem," we told them.

"Uh oh," Sheila said. "What?"

Charlotte explained everything to them as I called Mick and Janine. I told them to come over to Charlotte's as soon as they could; we had a proposition for them. Both of them agreed immediately, assuming it had something to do with sex.

It did, but in a way they never would have imagined.

"Steve's already been hitting on me," Sheila whispered to me in the kitchen. "We were only on the front steps for like ten minutes, and he was all, 'So, looks like you and me are gonna be hard up all week while we watch those two fucking. We're gonna have to satisfy each other maybe. Heh Heh Heh!'"

Her impression of him was hilarious. She had his laugh down to a tee, all husky and slow, like someone who'd just climbed a mountain or something.

"So what did you say to him?"

"I said, 'Speak for yourself. Once they get the first few come shots out the way, I'm gonna be wrapped around Anthony like a condom. Never off."

I laughed. It was probably true. I patted her on the ass, and gave her bum a little squeeze.

"Promise?" I said.

"Try and stop me."

I laughed again, and gave her a little kiss on the neck. She was making sandwiches for the group. Mick and Janine hadn't arrived yet. Charlotte and Steve were downstairs getting things ready.

"Anyway," she continued, "I do feel kinda sorry for the guy. It'll be hell for him if he doesn't get any. Maybe we should hook him up with someone."

"We can't. We've got a busy schedule that's gonna be pretty much steady for the next, oh, 30 hours or so. Maybe we'll get someone down here for him after it's all done. We'll have a wrap party, or whatever it's called."

"We better make sure he gets laid good though," Sheila muttered. "I don't trust this guy any further than I can throw him. He's gonna spill our secret. I know it. If he feels like he's left out, he'll be bitter and he might try getting back at us."

"He's not gonna spill. He knows he's dead if he does. Plus, Mick's coming over too, so that's even more intimidation for him. In any case, I think our movie's gonna be so awesome he won't want to ruin it."

"What if he wants a copy? What if he shows it around to his nerdy little friends?"

"Then he dies, plain and simple. He's not getting a copy anyway, so that shouldn't be a problem. Charlotte's gonna have the only copy, and I don't think she'll be showing it to anyone."

"Don't I get a copy?"

"We'll talk about it later."

"Hmph. After all this work. Of all the ingratitude."

Charlotte walked in, came straight to me, and gave me a nice little kiss.

"What ingratitude?" she asked.

"Sheila was expecting to have her own copy of the movie when we're done. I don't think it's a good idea."

"You don't trust her?" Charlotte asked, nibbling a bite off of one of Sheila's sandwiches.

"Of course I trust her. I'm just paranoid. The extra copy is just twice as much chance we have of getting caught. What if she lost it? What if she was robbed? What if her house was broken into-"

"Okay! I get it!" Sheila said. "No copy for me. Fine."

"Anthony does have a point. We can't be too careful. I don't even know if I want a copy. Where would I hide it?"

"It just seems stupid to make an entire movie and then hide it away for the rest of our lives."

"It's not your ass that's gonna be broadcast all over the world if this thing gets out, She," I said. "As fine of an ass as it is, I think I'd like to keep Charlotte's pretty little bottom all to myself."

"Yeah, yeah," Sheila said, and went back to buttering a slice of bread as Charlotte and I kissed deeply in front of her.

"This is gonna be awesome!" Charlotte said.

"It will," I said, kissing her again.

The doorbell rang.

"Tear yourselves off of each other long enough to get that?" Sheila asked.

"I'll get it," Charlotte said. "You kiss Sheila like you just kissed me. I think she's jealous over there."

Sheila stuck her tongue out at Charlotte and gave her a raspberry.

"You really jealous?" I asked her when Charlotte was gone.

"Not in the slightest," Sheila replied.

"Sure," I said, grinning, and she threw a piece of carrot at me.

I walked out and high-fived Mick with both hands. He was suitably wowed by Charlotte's pad, gawking around at everything like a tourist in a museum.

"Top notch digs, Lawsen," he said. "I knew you were well-off, but shit!"

"You've been here before. Come on!" Charlotte replied.

"Not inside. This is nice."

The doorbell rang again. Charlotte yelled at Janine to come in. She did, standing in the doorway and gawking as well.

"Fuck me!" was all she could come up with.

Charlotte giggled.

"All that beauty, fine ass, most popular chick in school, and she's fucking rich too. Bitch!" Janine said.

"Don't forget, the hottest guy in school for a boyfriend," Charlotte added.

"As if I don't know that one," Janine said. "Hmm!" She looked me up and down for a moment. "Oh, hey, Mick!" she said finally, as if he'd suddenly appeared beside me. "Damn! I knew this would be a fun party: two of hottest guys in school, me, and Charlotte Lawsen. Who else is here?"

Steve came trudging up the stairs right then.

"So the DVs run straight into the PCs, directly onto the hard drives?" he asked. "There's no tapes?"

"Steve Henridge?" Janine said, a little puzzled all of a sudden. Apparently she had expected an orgy or something, but there was Steve Henridge. He was the farthest thing from sexy she could imagine.

"No tapes," Charlotte said, glancing at Mick and Janine who seemed to have no idea what Steve was talking about. Janine was standing there looking from Steve, to me, to Mick, and back again. Mick was looking at the various furnishings around the room, still in curious awe of the place.

"That's cool," Steve said. "No log and capture that way. Saves a lot of time."

"Yup," Charlotte said. I was lost too, but it was cool that Steve seemed to know exactly what he was talking about.

Suddenly Mick burst out laughing on the other side of the living room.

"What?" Charlotte asked.

"Why do you have a giant portrait of Juanna Laime on your living room wall? Is your dad some kind of obsessed fan or what?"

Charlotte and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"You might say that," she answered.

"Who's Juanna Laime?" Janine asked. "I just thought that was your mom or something."

"Her mom!" Mick said. "Yeah, right! Juanna Laime is a famous porn star! She's made tons of movies. I've jerked off over her so many times I can't even-"

Mick trailed off, noticing the smirk on Charlotte's face. He looked at her, and then at the portrait, and then back at her again, and then, "Holy fuckin' shit! She is your mom! You look just like her! I can't believe I never noticed before!"

"I said the same thing when I found out," Sheila said, carrying a tray of sandwiches into the living room and setting them on the coffee table.

"Wait a minute!" Janine said. "Your mom's a fucking porn star!?"

Steve stood at the top of the stairs grinning.

"I guess that would make your dad an obsessed fan then. No wonder you're rich! It all makes sense now."

"This also explains your, um, reputation around school too, I guess," Janine said.

"As a wild little slut, you mean?" Charlotte said. "Yeah. Mommy taught me everything I know about how to please a man."

"Can you teach me?" Janine asked.

"Me too," Sheila muttered from behind the couch.

"It all makes sense now," Mick said again. "Wow!"

"Okay, first of all, none of this leaves this house, you guys," Charlotte said. "Sheila and Steve already know, as well as Anthony of course, but you guys can't say a word to anyone either. I asked you here for a special purpose because we believe we can trust you."

"What's up?" Mick asked. "I won't say a word. I swear."

"I believe you, honey," Charlotte told him. "And I'm pretty sure Janine's cool too. She's after my boyfriend's cock. She'll be good, right, babe?"

Janine licked her lips at me.

"No problem," she said. "What's up?"

We all gathered in a circle around the living room table and Charlotte told them the whole story. She started with her parents' careers and fame as porn producers, and then moved on to how she and I were going to be making our own movie, and how desperately we needed to keep it a secret.

"Nobody breathes a word to a single soul outside this room — not even a hint that you maybe might know something, got it?"

All nodded.

She then went on to explain everyone's rolls, Sheila directing, Steve on tech, me and her as the stars. Then she explained how we needed look-outs upstairs to keep an eye out for her parents' friends who could pop-in at any moment.

"That's where you two come in. We need you to stand guard up here and scream at us if you see a car drive up the driveway at any time. Then we all stop what we're doing, switch everything into standby and make like we're just enjoying a game of strip poker down there and Anthony and I are loosing badly. Got it?"

The two of them were silent for a moment, still soaking in what Charlotte had revealed to them, all in the last ten minutes.

"That is so fucking cool!" Janine said finally, bouncing up and down in the chair, grinning and wringing her hands, like a little kid who'd been promised a trip to Disney World.

"So you're in then?"

"I am so in it's not even funny!"

"Mick?"

"Sure. I'm in."

"Let's get started then," Charlotte said. "Which one of you two wants first watch?"

They flipped a coin and Mick got picked. He sat himself on the couch in front of the window overlooking the driveway.

"Remember, they could show up at any time! Don't be taking a nap or anything up here."

"I won't. I'm good," Mick said.

"Cool. We'll send Janine up in an hour. There's food in the fridge and the bathroom's right over here."

"Got it. Get going, sexy."

"Thank you so much, Mick. We couldn't get this done without you, baby."

"Go! Go! Get busy!"

"Alright, alright! We're going!" Charlotte said, and took me by the hand.

The five of us headed downstairs to begin Charlotte's movie.

Book III: The Movie



-------

Chapter 18: Action!


Sheila had definitely done her homework. She'd taken the script I'd written and drawn an entire storyboard for it in a notebook. Every single shot was blocked out and numbered. There were 264 shots in all. It must have taken her days.

"My god, girl! Have you even slept this week?"

"Not much," she replied. "Every time I closed my eyes, I got a thousand new ideas and had to get up and sketch them out. I maybe got three hours' sleep all week."

"How come they're not in order?" Janine said, "It seems like the story's jumping all over the place."

"They're in order of production," Steve said. "You can see the come shots come first, followed by all the miscellaneous fucking, and then the dialog shots last."

"Oh right. But why not do everything in order?"

"Because every fifteen seconds of on-screen time takes like fifteen minutes to shoot. Anthony can't have sex with me for that long, so we're doing all the come shots first. Then we rearrange them to line up right in the editing room over there."

"Makes sense."

"It'll be a lot of fun. You did a great job, Sheila. This is gonna save us tons of time."

"I knew time would be tight, so I worked it all out."

"You're awesome," Charlotte said.

"Shall we?" I said, with a broad, lustful grin, eyeing Charlotte up and down.

"Oh god! This is so exciting! I feel like I'm a virgin all over again!"

That made my stomach flip over about three or four times.

Charlotte was stripping down in front of us. I completely lost my train of thought. Steve, who had been adjusting dials and knobs on the cameras, was suddenly distracted as well.

Then she was naked before us all, and there wasn't an eye in the room that wasn't looking her up and down. She was hot! She raised her hands over her head and did a little twirl. Her hair spun and her breasts jiggled. I almost drooled. I was rock hard erect once again.

"Your turn, sweetie," Charlotte told me.

I stripped down as well, but I was too slow. Suddenly Charlotte was helping me, pulling my shirt off, tugging my pants down and yanking off my socks and underwear. My erection sprang out like a diving board, almost hitting her in the face as she struggled with my right sock. She turned and gave it a peck on its head.

Then we were both naked, and so eager for sex we were nearly shaking.

"This is great," Sheila said. "You're all wound up like a couple of bombs. We can use this energy for the scene. Hey! Concentrate, you guys!"

"Sorry," I said. I was feeling up Charlotte's breasts, massaging her nipples into erection, and she was stroking my ass. Our hands were all over each other. We turned to focus on Sheila.

"Okay, the first shot is the climax of the story. No pun intended. This is where Charlotte's character has finally let go of her duality and embraced oneness with herself. She has just been fucking Anthony for the past, six minutes while she struggled with it, and he's about to come. So you have to play it like you've finally found peace with yourself, Char. You have to be inwardly orgasmic, to match Anthony's outward orgasm. This is where all the energy and tension of the entire movie is released, all over your pretty little face. We have to see your passion, your lust, your love, your peace, and security all in one come-slathered expression, and we've only got one take. Can you do it?"

"I've been waiting all damn week to do it! I'm ready!"

"You love him. You wanna be with him forever. You never want anyone else as long as you live."

"I do," she said, looking deep into my eyes.

"Great. Show it with your energy, your enthusiasm, your lust."

"This is so damn hot!" Janine said again.

"No kidding," Steve added.

"Okay, go get in a hot shower you two. You've got to look all wet and sweaty, like you've been going at it for half an hour already."

We went. There was a shower in the basement that the porn stars used to clean up after their shots. Charlotte turned it on and I closed the bathroom door.

"Come here," I said.

"What?" she asked, obeying.

"I just want to hug you for a moment. I love you so much."

She hugged me and our naked bodies pressed together as the bathroom filled with steam. Even the feel of my cock pressed between our bodies, against her naked flesh was enough to make me tingle with pre-orgasmic jitters. I was just that turned on by the whole situation.

"I love you too, baby. I love you, I love you, I love you. I'm so glad to be doing this with you. It's the most exciting moment of my life so far. And I really meant it when I said I feel like a virgin all over again. I'm so nervous. Be gentle with me."

"I can feel you shaking."

"You're so calm. So strong."

"My tummy is doing flip flops. I'm so excited. We've come so far since we first talked about doing this, huh?"

"Yeah."

She kissed me, and our tongues loved one another, slow and slippery. Her body was becoming wet and sweaty from the steam of the shower and my cock slid against her belly between us. More tingles, more intense, more like an actual fuck in the slippery wetness that was developing between us.

"Let's get in."

It was hot. It reddened our skin, giving us the appearance of vigorous fucking. We wet ourselves all over, except for our hair, which was only dampened by the steam and the mist of the shower. We rubbed each other down, getting hotter and hotter by the moment, and by the time we were done we were both panting. Her knees weakened and I had to hold her slippery little body up. It was beautiful.

The bathroom was completely filled with steam when we finally shut off the shower. We slid out of the stall and kissed some more. Then she took me by the cock and led me out into the studio. The touch of her hand was beautiful, soft and snug around my shaft.

Janine was on her knees in front of Sheila, where we would be positioned, and Steve was focusing the camera for the shot. They had set up the lights already as well, and the whole basement was bathed in a warm glow of yellowish colored light. They looked up at us as we emerged from the haze.

"Awesome!" Sheila said, with a broad grin. "You guys look awesome! Okay, get over here, quick! Steve, are we ready to roll?"

"We're good to go," he said.

They jumped out of the way, and we took their place. My erection waved in front of Charlotte's face. Soon she would be all over it.

"Okay, Char," Sheila said. "When I say go, you go nuts on him and make him come. This is the end of the scene, remember, not the beginning. Don't worry about starting off slowly."

Charlotte was panting already. She simply nodded. Her eyes were flared with lust. I was out of breath myself. My erection was inches from her lips. She licked her lips. She played with her nipples. They stood tall against the red-flushed skin of her chest and neck. Her body glistened in the lighting, wet from head to toe.

"Let me see," Sheila said, peering into the viewfinder of the camera. "Charlotte, turn your body a little towards the camera. You too, Anthony, but not much! Right there. Good."

"Damn this is hot!" Janine said.

"Quiet on set!"

Charlotte was now gasping, and almost moaning she was so wound up. She wanted me bad. She couldn't tear her eyes from my cock.

"Okay, roll it," Sheila said. Steve clicked a button on the camera, starting the recording in the control room.

"We're rolling," he said.

"Okay, ACTION!"

Charlotte dove onto me with a frenzied vigor I'd never seen in her. She took me in and just went nuts. I actually lasted a good 45 seconds, strangely enough. I have no idea how. It was the strangest thing ever, but somehow, the climax wasn't right there, ready to blast. Charlotte didn't let up though, and finally about 40 seconds in, I let out a long groan that told her it was ready. She felt me throb and she pulled off, stroking it from root to tip in her hands. I groaned in ecstasy, feeling the gorgeous release pouring out of me. Charlotte was nearly weeping as she took it. Her gratified cries send shivers through me, and I spasmed and flinched in front of her, trembling like a little boy until it was over.

She looked up at me with a dazed look of gratitude that almost made me cry. It was lust and love, sin and heaven, sexiness and raunchiness and absolute beauty, all in one mind numbing image. She was a goddess in front of me. It was all I could do to stay on my feet. She took me deep into her mouth, bobbed on me a few more times to finish me off, and then smeared the mess all over herself, using my erection as a paintbrush. Then she kissed me and just sat still, staring up at me with wonder and love in her eyes.

"Cut!" Sheila said. "That was fucking beautiful! Please tell me we got that, Steve."

"We got it," he said.

"I love you, babe. I love you so much," I said. "That was so beautiful I could almost cry."

"I know. I love you too."

"How do you feel, Ant?" Sheila said, tossing Charlotte a towel. She used it to wipe the dripping come from her face and tits. It was everywhere. I really did come more than I thought I had. I'd been in a daze while doing it, but looking at her now, I could see I'd really coated her face good.

"I feel like I just lost about a thousand pounds, and yet I feel a hundred pounds heavier at the same time."

"Well you look hot as a fuckin' porn star from over here. Take a break and get ready for the next shot. Fifteen minutes. Everything okay up there, Mick?"

Mick yelled something down that I didn't hear. Charlotte took me by the hand and led me to the bed where we just lay down and held each other, whispering sweet nothings to each other while Steve and Sheila set up for the next shot.

I had to hand it to Sheila. She was organized like I'd never seen her. She was on the ball, making sure everything was just right. She was the only one who wasn't in a fog of lust.

The next shot involved us in a bed scene. I'd just fucked the sleazy side of Charlotte's character, and we were setting up for the come shot. We got back in the shower together, this time washing the come off of her more thoroughly, and then got in position for the shot. Charlotte was to ride me like a cowgirl, and then flip over just before I came, and take it on the tits and neck as I straddled her tummy. She had to do it in a conflicted sort of way, as though the innocent side of her didn't want it to happen.

She got on me. We closed our eyes and sighed.

"Oh, god, you feel good inside, baby. This isn't gonna last long," I said. "Get ready to jump when I say jump."

Charlotte nodded, lost in a daze of pleasure. I filled her to the very top of her pussy and she swirled sensuously around on it, fucking me sweetly with a gentle gyration of her pelvis.

"Don't start yet!" Sheila said.

"Sorry," Charlotte said, snapping out of her daze.

"Are you ready to freak out on him again?" Sheila asked.

"Uh huh!" Char replied.

"Okay, Steve. We ready?"

"We ready," he said.

"Roll it!"

"Rolling it."

"ACTION!"

And Charlotte went nuts on me again, fucking me like it was her last day alive and she only had two minutes to finish. I hung on to her as she rocked me, dragging me moaning and squirming toward another beautiful orgasm. I could feel her squeezing, and suddenly she popped off into orgasm, beating me by a good thirty seconds.

"Uh. Ah! Oh god! I'm com- Mmmm!"

She bit her lower lip and shook like a leaf. A few more strokes and I was there.

She felt it approaching and she jumped off me, throwing herself to the bed. She recoiled like a frightened little girl as I overshadowed her, but then grinned lustfully. I climaxed again, growling above her and raining my ecstasy down across her chest. She wavered back and forth between apprehension, and gorgeous gratuitous lust. Her timing was perfect. I almost laughed with joy but managed to hold it back. Then she kissed it sweetly and rubbed it lovingly against her cheek. We held that pose until Sheila cut it.

"Nice!" she said. "Very nice! You guys are pros."

I collapsed on the bed beside her and we lay there panting and sighing, happy to be freely enjoying each other once again.

"We got that one, Steve?"

"Yup," he said.

He seemed to be handling this a lot better than Janine was. He wasn't freaking out or anything. We all expected him to be jerking off behind the camera, but he was coolly standing there waiting for the next scene. Janine, on the other hand.

Where the hell was Janine?

We got up and went upstairs to look for her. There she was on her back on the couch, with Mick on top of her. Mick was fucking her patiently and calmly, keeping one eye on the driveway out the window. Charlotte laughed.

"Couldn't hold off any longer, huh?"

"No ... fucking ... way ... Was ... dying ... down there."

"Well go ahead and enjoy yourself. Just keep an eye on the driveway."

"Way ahead of you, miss," Mick said.

We went back downstairs, leaving the two lovers going at it on the couch.

"You ready for a third scene, Anthony?" Sheila said.

"I'm ready!" I said, dazzled by the sexiness of my girlfriend. She smiled over at me.

"This is the most fun I've had in years," Charlotte said.

"Me too," Steve added, whimpering pathetically. "Oh wait. Correction: Ever!"

The third scene with Charlotte and I was our beloved rear-entry position. It was the scene when the dark side of Charlotte first emerges, as I bang her hard and talk very dirty to her.

When it was all over, Charlotte looked back at me, with fire in her eyes that wasn't there a moment ago.

"I don't know who you are, but it is damn nice to meet you!"

A few seconds rolled by and Sheila cut it. We all applauded Charlotte and I gave her a kiss.

"You were amazing!" I said. "Absolutely stunning! I'm the luckiest bastard alive, I swear."

"You know it."

Sheila sent Charlotte and I for a nap and she went to the computer to review the shots. Charlotte and I passed out immediately, and when we awoke, Sheila had sandwiches ready for us.

"We're doing all the oral sex filler next, so get ready to work out your jaw, girl."

"Where's Janine and Mick?" she asked.

"They're passed out on the couch. They went at it for a good hour. I think they might become an item before this weekend's done."

"We'll see," I said. "Mick's a pretty good guy. She might just fall for him."

"Maybe."

"You guys ready for three hours of blow jobs?"

I grinned. Charlotte rubbed her jaw, frowned, and then winked at me.

We headed downstairs and Charlotte went down on me for the next two and a half hours, in about seven different positions, from about 30 different angles. By the time the night was done we had thirty-five minutes of footage, and we were done about 40% of the shots. Mick drove the crew home, and Charlotte and I finished off the night on the couch, in front of a crackling fire.

A woman named Clarissa popped in around ten, said hi, and then left again, saying she had a hot date with a male dancer she didn't want to be late for. Charlotte wished her good luck, lisping tiredly from sucking so much dick all day and Clarissa laughed at her knowingly.

I called my mom and had a bit of an ordeal convincing her to let me stay over there on a school night, but I eventually won out by telling her that the Lawsens were out of town and Charlotte didn't feel safe alone. It wasn't even really a lie. Mom relented and told me to make sure I get my butt to school in the morning.

Charlotte locked up the house, put out the fire, and we went to bed in her parents' king-sized bed. It was paradise.



-------

Chapter 19: Revelation


I woke up late that Thursday morning in the arms of my Charlotte once again. She lay with her cheek on my chest and her arm across my stomach, hugging me protectively, as though my presence beside her defined safety and security for her sleeping mind. Her hair was a sweet golden river, flowing down off her upper back and down across the bed. I couldn't see her face but I could imagine it, sweet and serene, defining beauty for my sleepy mind.

I slowly slid myself out from her loving embrace, placing a pillow under her cheek in my place. Then I walked out of the bedroom and went to the bathroom to wash up.

Sheila arrived a little after eleven in the morning, and the three of us ate lunch together.

"We still have a few hours before Mick and Steve get here," Charlotte said, sitting on the floor with her back to the couch across from me. She was dressed in only a night shirt, and her hair looked gorgeously disheveled.

"Is there anything we can do on the movie without them?" I asked.

"Not really," Sheila said. "We could rehearse the dialog scenes, I guess, but who's really in the mood for that right now?"

Charlotte and I looked down at the floor, silently agreeing.

We were quiet for a while, just lost in our own thoughts as we ate our salads and sandwiches. Sheila was looking over her storyboards and notes, Charlotte was staring off into space with a thoughtful look on her face, and I was looking back and forth between them, thinking about how they were both so beautiful in their own ways. Charlotte was beautiful in a lust-arousing, total hottie way, and Sheila was beautiful in a smart sexy way. Perhaps it was a beauty that only I could see, though; she wasn't exactly beating guys off with a stick, but she was beautiful. She was beautiful like art is beautiful — the longer you stare at it, the more things you notice, subtle things, movements and mannerisms, facial expressions, the wrinkle of her nose, the wiggle of an eyebrow as she thought about something. Charlotte was outwardly, obviously beautiful, in a way that hit you in the gut and made you want to throw her down and take her right where you were. I appreciated both kinds of beauty equally.

"How's it looking, She?" Charlotte asked.

"It's looking good. We've got a few more hours of shooting to do, and then it's all editing, polishing, and finishing. We can do the rest of the sex today, and all the dialogs and such tomorrow."

"You look concerned."

"Well, I'm looking at spending the whole weekend editing this thing down. No sleep, no distractions. I should have it done by Sunday morning."

"It shouldn't be that bad," Charlotte said. "It goes pretty fast on the computers. It's mostly just dragging and dropping. I'll show you after lunch. I'm sure Steve knows how it works too."

"How did you think you were gonna do it?" I asked.

"I don't know actually. I knew it was done on the computer, but I just couldn't imagine sorting through all these shots."

"It's as easy as playing solitaire. Move this card here, drag that card there. The biggest problem is working out all the sound."

Sheila just shrugged and went back to reading.

I helped Charlotte up, and she slid into my lap. The next thing I knew she was kissing me all over my face, like I was a prized possession or something. Man, was she giddy.

"Did I mention that I love you today?" she asked me.

"Not with words," I said.

Sheila rolled her eyes.

"I love you, I love you, I love you! My hot, sexy, sweet, fuckable, little sex monster."

"Well, you'll love him even more this afternoon," Sheila said. "He gets to spend the afternoon going down on you for about 45 different shots."

"Nice!" Charlotte replied. "I'm so spoiled."

"Me too," I said. Then she kissed me again.

"Are you gonna take me to the dance tomorrow, baby?" Charlotte asked.

"There's a dance?" I said.

"Well, duh! They've only been announcing it for the past month."

Sheila looked like she hadn't heard about it either.

"I'm gonna wear the prettiest little dress for you, and you can wear me like a flower on your arm."

"As long as I don't have to dance," I said. "I dance like a dork. I'll embarrass you."

"He ain't kiddin'," Sheila said.

"Only the slow dances then," Charlotte said. "We'll be the hottest couple there!"

Charlotte was being uncharacteristically teen. It was a side of her I hadn't seen yet — the giddy little schoolgirl that thought going to school dances was cool. It wasn't a bad thing. I was just more used to seeing her sexual persona, like a full grown woman. This side of her was perhaps more normal for a girl her age, but it was relatively new to me. Going to dances wasn't really my thing, nor Sheila's, but I decided I'd go if it made her happy.

"Sure, I'll take you," I said. "I'd be honored."

"What about you, She?"

"No thanks," she said. "Third wheel's not my style."

"We don't even have a song, our song!" Charlotte proclaimed. "We need a song!"

"I guess," I said. "I never thought about it. We've only been a couple for a week now."

"We gotta have a song!"

"What's your favorite song, Char? Love song I mean."

"I have a few, but none that say how I feel about you. It has to be a song that says how we both feel about each other," Charlotte said.

"What's your mom and dad's song?"

"Some old seventies thing: Power of Love, by Jennifer Rush. It's seriously cheesy."

"That's an awesome song!" Sheila argued. "So sexy too. It's about total surrender to the one you love, physical, emotional, everything. Total trust, even when you're terrified."

"Sounds like us," I said. "I don't think they'll play it at the dance though."

We spent the early afternoon watching porn in Charlotte's living room, and Sheila explained to us in great detail why some of the scenes were boring, crude, or even obnoxious, while others were hot, sexy, and intense. I didn't really get it at first. A hot chick getting fucked is hot no matter what angle you watched it from. But the more Sheila explained it, the more I understood what she was saying. It made perfect sense. She was more interested in reactions, and relationships than in endless sequences of bobbing and thrusting. The more she explained it to us, the more confidence I had that our movie might actually be the best porn flick ever made. It was very exciting.

Mick, Janine, and Steve arrived after three o'clock. They apologized about being late, but said they absolutely couldn't get out of class. I believed them. Some of those teachers were more strict than prison guards.

Mick and Janine arrived arm-in-arm. They'd apparently stayed up into the wee hours talking to each other on the phone, and then Mick even picked her up from school. They looked like they were walking on clouds.

"Sorry to do this to you guys, but I've just got to fuck this boy before we start," Janine said. "I've been dying for it all day."

Charlotte laughed. I shook my head. Sheila scowled, but said nothing as they headed upstairs into a bedroom.

"Well then," Sheila said. "Let's head downstairs and plan out the afternoon's shots, shall we?"

"So what's on the schedule?" I asked.

"A whole lot of going down on Charlotte. I hope you got some rest this morning cause this could take a while. You don't mind, do you Char?"

Sheila grinned at her.

"Well, it'll be tough, but I think I can handle it."

"Just remember to lose yourself in the action. Feel it. Move how your body wants to move until I say cut. Then we'll slide the camera around and do it again.

Sheila went back to her notes on a nearby table, shuffled through a few papers, and came back again.

"Anthony, you were wearing a red shirt, unbuttoned to the third button. Where is it?"

I ran upstairs and got it, so glad I'd chosen Sheila for this job. The movie was going to be totally amazing!

I spent the afternoon and part of the evening between Charlotte's thighs, licking, sucking, tonguing, and fingering her while Sheila and Steve filmed it all. I learned a whole lot more about what pleases her as she guided me with verbal instructions, lustful moans and squeals, and pelvic thrusts. By the end of it, I knew exactly what to do and how to do it and I was getting her off, over and over again, within minutes. Finally, we took a break.

Mick and Janine were upstairs, still naked, sitting on the couch facing the front door, with her leaning back against his chest.

"We're an item now," Janine announced. "Can you believe it?"

Charlotte hugged them, suddenly overwhelmed with a lazy, shaky joy, hearing the good news about two close friends.

Life was pretty sweet.

"Where are we at now?" Charlotte asked Sheila, sipping fruit juice right from the jug. She had been having sex all afternoon and she was parched. "About what percentage of the way are we overall?"

"Well," Sheila said. "In terms of shooting, we're about 60-70% done. But editing is a whole other ball of yarn. I've got hours and hours of fucking to go through, pick the best shots and angles, and piece it together into a movie."

"We still gotta do sound too."

"Yeah."

"So we're like less than half way there."

"Pretty much."

"I'm friggin' exhausted. What do we have left to do today?"

"Well, I was gonna get some of the dialog done, but that can wait 'til tomorrow, I guess."

"No, we better do it today."

"Yeah."

But the phone rang, and it was bad news. Charlotte answered it.

"Oh, hi, daddy!" she beamed. "How are you guys? I miss you so much!"

Then she was silent. She just kept saying "uh-huh" and "Oh, really?" over and over for like five minutes. Her face slowly went whiter and whiter. Then it was "Oh my god!" over and over. She looked amazed, shocked, flabbergasted even. We all shut up, just looking at her with concern. She turned away from us, as if that would shut us out of her conversation.

"Yes, I'm okay. I will. No, I'm just very shocked, that's all. I know. Yes, I will. Okay, bye."

She hung up the phone slowly, and turned to face us. She was about to speak, but just shook her head in disbelief instead. Then she turned and ran upstairs.

I of course ran after her. Janine moved to follow me, but Sheila grabbed her. It was something major, and she needed to be alone with me for a while.

Charlotte was on her bed, lying on her side, staring at the wall, still looking like she'd been kicked in the head or something, all dazed and glassy-eyed. I walked up to the bedside and sat down. She reached out an arm toward me, calling me into a hug. I obliged, lying beside her and wrapping my arms around her.

"What's wrong, Char?" I asked. "What happened?"

She looked at me for a long while and then turned on her back again, staring at the ceiling now. The suspense was killing me. Finally she spilled it.

"I have a sister," she said.

"What!? No way!? How? Who?"

"My dad, he told me his lawyer called him a few minutes ago. He said a paternity test he'd taken recently has been confirmed. A woman he slept with got pregnant with his child and never told him about it. He just found out about it a couple weeks ago, him and mom, when the woman called him. He got a paternity test just to prove that she wasn't some gold-digger out for a quick buck. It came back positive. I have a sister."

"That's good news, isn't it?" I asked.

"I guess so. I'm just really in shock right now. I never imagined in a million years..."

She trailed off. Then her eyes widened in new shock.

"Oh, shit!" she said. "I was so shocked I forgot the most important part of the call!"

"What!?" I said.

"She's coming here tonight to meet me! Our movie is fucked! We'll never finish it now!"

"What!? Why?"

"She's staying here the rest of the weekend, Anthony! Her mom's in the hospital."

"Oh no..."

I was now as stunned as she was. Our entire production was shot down the drain now. We'd never be able to finish with a little kid running around.

"So, you've got to babysit this kid for the rest of the weekend?" I asked. "How do your parents expect you to look after a child on your own?"

"No, Anthony. It's not like that. She's almost 14."

"Fourteen! Oh! When she said paternity test, I automatically assumed it was a toddler at most. I'm not sure why. Wow. All this time you had a sister running around and you didn't even know."

"Yeah. Amy. Her name's Amy."

We were silent again, and I just watched the parade of emotions wander over her face one by one.

"How do you feel?" I asked finally.

"I feel everything. Happy, sad, angry, scared, excited, curious, jealous, hopeful. I don't know which one is the strongest. This changes everything."

"We should tell the others. Send them home. You're not gonna be able to concentrate on the movie now anyway."

"You're right."

We got up and went downstairs. All eyes were on us as we walked back into the kitchen. Nobody spoke. We just sat down and I waited for Charlotte to make the announcement.

"Anthony, you tell them," she said, and a tear spilled down her cheek.

"Oh my god, what!?" Janine asked. "What happened?"

"The movie's over. For now anyway."

"What!?" Sheila said. "Why? Someone ratted us out? What happened?"

"No, no. It's nothing like that. Charlotte just found out she has a little sister. A fourteen year-old sister named Amy."

"Thirteen," Charlotte corrected me. "She's turning fourteen in a couple months."

Jaws dropped. Eyes widened.

"And it turns out," I continued, "she's on her way here to spend the rest of the weekend with Charlotte. Her mom's in the hospital for some reason. So that pretty much puts a wrap on our production. Sorry guys."

Sheila looked the most hurt out of all of them. She looked like she'd just been given three weeks to live or something.

"It's okay, we can continue it in the future, the next time Charlotte's parents leave town maybe."

"But the continuity," Sheila said. "Everything will look cut in half..."

"There's nothing we can do," I said.

"How long until she gets here?" Steve asked. "We have to dump like 100 gigs of video onto a detachable storage drive somewhere and hide it. That's gonna take all night in itself."

"Well, Steve, you can stay and do that," I said. "The rest of you might as well go home. She's gonna be here in a while and we-"

"We have to go get her, Anthony," Charlotte said.

"From?" I asked.

"The airport. She's flying in. 9:20 p.m."

"I can stay and work on the movie," Sheila said. An edge of desperation crept into her voice. "You guys can take her out somewhere, show her the town or whatever, and I can continue the editing. The more we get done now, the better."

"She'll be tired, She," I said.

"So then, she'll go straight to bed. I can hide in the basement. The control room is sound proof."

"Sheila, we're gonna finish this movie tomorrow," Charlotte interrupted suddenly. "You're right. We can't leave it until the next time my parents are out of town. It'll look stupid. Janine and Mick, you stay here. We'll have a little homecoming party for Amy tonight. We'll all get to know her, and then tomorrow you two can take her out on the town while Anthony and I are away at school, if you know what I mean."

"But that'll mean nobody will be standing guard."

"I know, but we'll have to risk it."

"Why doesn't Janine take Amy out by herself? Why does Mick have to go?"

"I don't know. I just thought she might feel more comfortable with both of them than just some girl she just met, you know?"

"I would feel more comfortable with Mick there too," Janine said. "I don't even know this girl."

"Yeah," Charlotte said. "Mick will have to go with them, even if it means we have no look out."

"Most of the sex is done anyway, right?" Steve said.

"Mostly," Sheila answered. "If someone does stop in, we'll just say we're working on something for drama class or whatever."

"We'll be naked though," I told them.

"Yeah," Charlotte agreed. "But we've gotta get this done. We've come too far to quit now."

"So it's settled then?" Janine said. "Mick and I will take Amy around town show her the sights, take her shopping or whatever. You guys will be here finishing the shooting, and we'll just tell her you have classes you couldn't miss."

"Right," Charlotte said. "But you guys are gonna have to really pour on the charm and make sure you're best of friends with her by the end of tonight. She might just try and stay home here while Anthony and I are supposedly at school, if she doesn't feel comfortable with you guys."

"I'm sure she's great," Janine said. "She's probably more lonely than anything. What's her mom in the hospital for?"

"Cancer," Charlotte said.

"Oh my god!" Janine said. "The poor kid!"

Sheila was looking down at the table, not speaking. Nobody else noticed though, they were all looking at Charlotte. I knew Sheila had lost her dad to cancer though. I knew what she was thinking. I couldn't tell her I knew though. Sheila had never mentioned it to me. Not once. I found out from her mom. My heart was breaking for her though. She kept a stony, emotionless face on, and nobody so much as glanced at her, except me.

"How long does her mom have?" Mick asked.

"Anywhere from six weeks to six months, my dad said. His lawyer didn't have exact details."

There was silence, and then Steve spoke.

"Wow," he said. "This is gonna change your whole life."

He was actually more insightful than he seemed apparently. He was right. Everything would be different now.

"Does Amy know what your parents do?" Mick asked.

"I don't know," Charlotte answered. "Dad didn't say. I assume they'd want to be up front with her though, if she's going to be living here with us eventually..."

She trailed off for a moment and then slapped both hands to her face.

"Oh my god! I'm gonna have a sister!"

Then she hugged me and bawled her eyes out. All eyes were upon Charlotte, holding me with all her strength and crying like a little girl. Sheila looked away though, and just stared at the floor. I'm not sure why.

When Charlotte calmed down again, Janine spoke softly to us all.

"You know what we should do? We should throw her a welcoming party, with like, streamers, and balloons and food and music, and everything, and a big banner that says WELCOME AMY. That might really cheer her up. This is probably throwing her whole world upside down too."

"That's a great idea," Charlotte said.

"Come on, Mick," Janine said, grabbing him by the hand. "We're going to the store for some supplies."

Sheila got up and grabbed Steve. "We're going downstairs to do as much hiding as possible, just in case she wanders down there and snoops around."

"Good idea," I said.

Charlotte grabbed my hand and led me upstairs.

"Come on, Anthony. I need you to hold me for a while. Just until my universe stops spinning like a tilt-a-whirl."

We went upstairs, Sheila and Steve went downstairs, and Mick and Janine went out the door.

Charlotte and I lay on her bed, and I just listened to her talking about everything, about how she was worried she wouldn't be daddy's little princess anymore, about how she would go totally nuts if her mom was dying on her, especially if she didn't even know who her dad was, about how she used to wish she had a sister when she was little, but now she wasn't so sure. She cried some more and I just lay there, holding her until she stopped shaking and sobbing.

"Mostly, I'm happy, I think," she said finally. "I just hope she's as cool as my dad is."

"Any daughter of Ronald Lawsen's has gotta be at least as cool as you are, my love. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Let me up," she said. "I've got to shower and put on some makeup. I look like I spent the afternoon fucking or something."

For a moment there, Charlotte was almost back to her usual self. She stopped in the doorway though and turned around, leaning on the door frame.

"Anthony, I'm glad you're here. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you."

I just nodded at her, and she disappeared into the shower.



-------

Chapter 20: Miscommunication


We left Janine, Mick, and Steve hanging up streamers, balloons, the big welcome banner and such, and headed out to the airport in Charlotte's mom's car just before nine. Sheila insisted on remaining in the basement to finish as much editing as she could. We didn't argue with her, though we thought some socializing might do her some good. She locked herself in the control room with a plate of food and a couple can drinks.

Charlotte was quiet the whole way to the airport. She didn't say anything the entire drive, and I was concerned for her.

"It was nice of Janine and Mick to go to all that trouble for this girl they haven't even met yet, huh?" I said.

"Yeah," she said. She was usually very talkative but she was hardly saying anything now. When she did speak there was an edge to her voice.

"Well, it's a good thing you had a lot of orgasms today, or all this would be even-"

"Anthony, can you just please shut up for a while? I'm seriously stressed out here, and I don't want to hear babbling right now."

Babbling? What the hell? It was the first harsh thing I'd ever heard her say to me since I'd known her. I didn't reply. I just went cold, stewing in my thoughts.

We got to the airport and parked the car. Finally she spoke.

"Anthony, I'm so scared."

"Scared? You should be excited. Aren't you glad to meet her?"

"Of course I am! I just-"

We still had fifteen minutes before the flight landed.

"You just what?"

"I don't know. This is weird, you know? What if she hates me?"

"Why would she hate you?"

"Well for starters I've had a father for the past 16 years now, while she's had nothing. I'm rich, I'm popular, my mom's not dying."

"How are any of these things your fault?"

"It doesn't make any difference whether it's my fault or not. It just is. If she's not majorly cool she'll hate me. I just know it."

"If she's not majorly cool, why should you care if she hates you?"

"Because she's my sister!"

"Oh."

"This isn't like some school popularity thing. This is real life. This is family."

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe she's thinking the exact same thing about you right now? Everyone's insecure about some things, especially young girls."

"I guess so."

"Just be cool to her, make her feel welcome. She'll come around, even if things do get off to a bumpy start."

She reached over and hugged me. Her breasts felt nice against my arm. Her hair smelled sweet. I felt lust stirring inside me a bit, but then a strange thought occurred to me.

Babbling? She thinks I babble.

The lust died as my ego for some reason turned away from the almost worshipful adoration she'd been showering on me the past few weeks, and decided to obsess over one little comment she'd made.

"We should get going," Charlotte said.

"We've still got ten minutes, Char. There's no hurry."

She got out of the car, without answering and slammed the door, walking away without me.

"What the fuck?" I said.

I got out of the car and followed her.

"Charlotte, wait up!"

She kept walking.

I caught up to her and grabbed her hand, falling in step beside her. She didn't talk and neither did I.

We headed into the terminal and found the gate where her flight was arriving on the "You are here" map. I wasn't used to airports having never actually flown anywhere my entire life, but Charlotte seemed to know her way around.

"It's this way," she said, yanking my arm. I followed her, apparently not walking fast enough because she eventually let go of my hand again and continued on ahead of me. This time I didn't bother trying to catch up. She didn't even care whether I was there with her or not. I just let her go, walking at my normal pace and stewing some more. The further she went from me, the more emotional distance I felt between us, and the more bitter I got.

"That's right, leave the little babbler in the dust. You don't need him."

Finally she disappeared into a throng of people and I just stopped. She was coming up on one of the defining moments of her young life, a turning point, and she didn't want me there with her. She was being an ice cold bitch in fact, a side of her I'd never seen, never even imagined — a side of her that made my guts burn with resentment.

I wandered over to a row of seats and sat down by myself. She knew where to find me, when she'd had her little life experience without me. I'd chauffeur her back to her house and maybe just go home and leave her to her sister and her mansion.

"Girl troubles?" a voice said. I looked over and saw some girl staring at me, her head lying on her arm draped over the back of the row of seats. She was dressed all in black. She had dark hair and dark eyes. She was looking at me without the slightest hint of a smile.

"A little, I guess." I turned away to see if Charlotte was coming back for me.

"I saw her take off on you like that," the girl said. "You guys fighting or something?"

"It feels like a fight. Not really though."

"I got in a fight with my boyfriend last night too. We broke up actually."

"Shitty," I said, still glancing over at the throng Charlotte had disappeared into. "What happened?"

I wasn't really interested, but it seemed rude not to say anything.

"All he cared about was getting into my pants, even after I told him I was leaving to another city. He was such an ass."

Still no sign of Charlotte.

"Yeah, guys can be dicks," I said, filling in the silence.

"You're a guy. Maybe you can explain to me why the only way guys seem to understand love is by shoving their penis in you and using you like a rag."

I looked over at her, raising an eyebrow at her bluntness. She wasn't looking at me. She was staring off out the window, looking sad.

"Not all guys are like that," I said. "And anyway, if that's the worst of your problems you're doing pretty good. Who knows, maybe someday you'll grow to like having a penis shoved in you now and then. It seems to be a popular activity, in spite of all its problems."

"There must be something girls like about it. It just seems stupid to me."

"I suppose it is in a way, but it's also beautiful, with the right person."

"Does your girlfriend think it's beautiful?"

"She adores it."

"Hmmm. Well she looks like the type."

"What type?"

"You know, kinda slutty, like she likes gettin' it all the time."

"Just because a woman likes getting it, doesn't make her slutty."

"Well she looks like she likes getting it, and to me that is kinda slutty."

"There's nothing wrong with looking sexy, especially when you are sexy."

"Sexy, yes. But not slutty."

This chick really had some nerve, but I was intrigued.

"What's the difference?"

"Sexy is like, when you're comfortable with who you are, and you don't care what people think. Slutty is when you're like flashing all your shit around for everyone, just for attention, 'cause you're insecure and shit. It's lame."

She did have a point, but she obviously didn't know much about Charlotte.

"You think my girlfriend's slutty and insecure?" I said with a chuckle.

"By the way she dresses, yeah. A confident person doesn't need to have her boobs hanging out and a skirt all the way up to her ass like that. A confident woman just knows she's hot."

"It's possible to be confident and dress slutty though, sometimes," I said.

"Says you. You're a guy. That ain't confidence. That's a girl who's a few nasty ego blows away from jumping in bed with the first guy who smiles at her."

She did have a point and normally I would agree with her, but this was Charlotte we were talking about. She doesn't jump in bed with any guy who smiles-

Well she does, but it's not like she needs to. She's got guys lining up, and most of all, she's got me.

"Is it possible, that some girls just like sex, and being sexy, even if other people, who don't even know them, might accuse them of being slutty?" I said.

"You can tell a lot about a person, just by looking at them," the girl said.

"What can you tell about me?"

"I get the idea you think maybe she's too good for you, or maybe you think she thinks she's too good for you."

"What makes you think that?" I asked, with another chuckle.

(Dammit! She was near dead on! I suddenly felt naked.)

"Just the way you let her take off on you, and didn't even bother to follow her. You just came and sat down here like she took your nuts with her."

Then the girl turned away and went back to staring out the window.

"Sorry," she said. "Just my opinion."

"What are you doing, sitting here all by yourself?" I asked her, kinda wishing she'd get lost and leave me to nurse my bruised ego.

(Babble, babble, babble!)

"Waiting for someone to pick me up. I've been here three hours now."

"My girlfriend's gone to meet someone. The flight was supposed to be here at 9:20."

"Her name's not Charlene, is it? Black hair, dark eyes, Sorta like me?"

"No. Charlotte. Blond hair, blue eyes, kinda slutty. Like what you saw."

"Dammit!" the girl said.

"She should have met her by now," I said. "What the hell's the hold up?"

"I was wondering that myself," the girl said, and then, "Hey, here comes your chick."

Charlotte was coming. The girl turned away and looked out the window, pretending she didn't know me. I watched Charlotte walk up, feeling pissed off and edgy.

"Anthony, I can't find her anywhere! It's like she wasn't even on the flight! What the hell is going on here?"

"Maybe she missed her plane or something. Did you ask the flight attendant?"

"I was going to, but then this old fling of mine showed up. Oh my god! I haven't seen him for -like- ever! We only slept with each other once, but we were really good friends."

The young girl cleared her throat. Smart ass. Charlotte didn't notice though, she was scanning up and down the terminal.

That's when I noticed that she actually did look kinda slutty. She was wearing a mini-skirt and a crop-top that had her tummy and cleavage showing to all the world. Her hair was down to her lower back and she had boots up to her knees. She looked stunningly hot, but suddenly, because the young girl had said it, a little slutty too. Men were looking her up and down as they walked by, leering at her like she was on sale or something. She didn't seem to notice the stares she was getting, from men and women. She was just intently scanning for any young girl that might be her sister.

"Fuck me sideways, six ways from Sunday!" she said. Then she left again, heading back into the throng.

"Need I say more?" the girl beside me said.

"She's not like that! I swear!" I was getting snippy now.

"If you say so, Anthony."

Ah yes, Charlotte had called out to me. Observant little brat, this one.

"You've been here for three hours. Did you see like a thirteen, fourteen year-old girl wandering around by herself?"

"Other than me? No."

"Well, she'd be blond, a lot like Charlotte there. She's her sister."

"Her sister?"

"Yeah. We were supposed to pick her up. They've never even met. They didn't even know each other existed until like this afternoon sometime and..."

I trailed off. The girl's face had gone pale. She was staring off in the direction Charlotte had disappeared. Her eyes were suddenly glassy and dazed-looking.

"Wait a second," I said softly, as though seeing her for the first time. "Is your name Amy?"

"Amanda, yeah. My mom calls me Amy. My friends call me Mandy."

"So you're, like, her, aren't you?"

"Mom told me they had a daughter named Charlene," she said. "Maybe I didn't hear her right."

"Her name's Charlotte. Charlotte Lawsen."

"Charlotte Lawsen," the girl said slowly, whispering.

"Wow. I was sitting here talking to you all this time..."

"Oh my god! She's beautiful!"

"You said she was slutty," I chuckled, seeing a humorous irony in the whole situation now.

"That was before she was my sister!"

"I won't tell her. Don't worry."

Then she got all scared.

"I'm so sorry for everything I said about her! Please don't say anything! You won't tell her, will you?"

"You didn't recognize her at all?"

"I was looking for someone rich and classy-looking. I mean, not that she's not classy-looking. I mean- Oh, god! Don't tell her I said that! I'm so sorry!"

"I won't tell her. I promise. And yes, she is rich and classy."

I was staring at her now, trying to see some family resemblance. Mostly I was just surprised though.

"So you've been here for three hours-"

"Look, she's talking to some guy over there."

"What!?" I said, more angry than I wanted to sound.

I looked and she was talking to a guy, an older guy. Well, a couple years older anyway. A good-looking blond guy who looked like his parents paid his way through life every step of the way. He kept patting her shoulder, giving her little squeezes with his hands.

"That must be that fling she was talking about. He's so old!"

I didn't say anything. I just stared, listening to the corny jazz they were piping in over the P.A. system, and just staring. The song made me think of some slutty-ass cat, strutting provocatively along the top of a fence in time to the music, with her tail in the air.

Then he hugged her.

"How long have you two been together?" Amy asked me.

"A few weeks now I guess. Not that long."

"Why don't you go get her? Tell her you found me."

I looked over at her, this girl who'd been waiting in the airport for over three hours, this girl whose mom was off dying in a hospital somewhere and who had to face the possibility of a whole new life with a new family, and who, to top it all off, just broke up with her boyfriend the night before because he was a selfish, self-absorbed lame-ass, just like me.

"Sorry," I said.

"What?" she asked, apparently snapping out of some deep thought.

"Sorry. You're right. I'll go get her."

This was supposed to be her and Charlotte's big moment, and I was sitting there like a pouty little brat kid, worried about some guy Charlotte barely even knew. I got up and went over to her.

The guy had his arm around her and I resisted the urge to punch him in the face. She was mine.

"Hey there, Romeo," I said to the guy. "I'm Charlotte's boyfriend. I just came to tell her that I found her sister."

The guy's cheesy smile faded from his face. He dropped his arm from off her shoulder and took half a step away from her, pushed back a little by my forceful confidence.

"Oh my god! You found her!?" Charlotte squealed.

"Yeah, she's over there, by those seats. I was sitting next to her the whole time."

She saw me eyeing the guy down.

"Anthony, this is Chev. He was just helping me look for her."

Chev? What the hell kind of a name is Chev? I hated him with a seething passion. His cock had been in my girl, and there was nothing I could do to change it. He'd enjoyed her. Worse though, was that she'd probably enjoyed him just as much.

"Well I found her for you, so Chev's off the hook," I said.

Charlotte looked at me accusingly, like I'd just given him a raspberry and flicked a booger at him.

"But we gotta go, Chev. It was nice seeing you again."

There was an apology in her tone that I resented even more.

"You still got the same number?" he said, boldly rubbing my nose in his unconcern for our relationship.

"Yes, I do," Charlotte said. "Call me, okay?"

Now Charlotte was rubbing my nose in it too? Fuck!

We walked away toward Amy, and for some reason I felt like shit on the bottom of her shoe, just dragging along behind her like a bad smell she wanted to get rid of.

"So was he good?" I asked.

"What?" Charlotte said, honestly caught off guard by my question.

"Chev. Was he good?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Anthony?"

"You two seemed real close there. I was just wondering how good he was when you fucked him."

She stopped in her tracks, turning to face me. (God, she was beautiful, even when she was seething mad!) She just gaped at me like I'd just slapped her across the face. Then her surprise turned cold again, and she resumed walking.

"Anthony, I'm about to meet the sister I never knew I had. If you can find it in your heart to not be a complete infant about my past relationships right now, that would really help me out a lot."

"An infant?" I said. I was about to tell her that Amy had seen it with her own eyes, and that she thought Charlotte was being slutty too, but we were already there.

"Amy?" Charlotte said to the girl on the bench.

Amy looked up at her.

"Amy, this is Charlotte," I said.

There was no slow-motion dash into each other's arms like I'd imagined. They just stared at each other.

"Where were you?" Charlotte said. "I was freaking out over there!"

"I've been here since 6:30. I was just here talking to Anthony."

"Oh my god! 6:30? What happened? My dad told me 9:20."

"I'm not sure why. I got the ticket right here. Flight 457. Departing 16:20. Arriving, gate 32, at-"

"I am so sorry!" Charlotte said.

"No problem. Anthony was just keeping me company here."

"Why didn't you come and tell me you found her!?"

"I didn't know it was her until a few minutes ago. I was looking for blond hair, blue eyes, just like you."

"My dad has dark hair though! You know that!"

"Hey, don't worry about it, guys. It was just a mistake."

Then they were staring at each other again.

"So, you guys should hug or something. Isn't that how it happens in the movies?"

Charlotte ran around the row of benches and Amy was on her feet by the time she got to her. They hugged.

"Apparently we're sisters," Amy said.

"Yeah. I'm so happy to meet you!"

"I wish I could say I've heard so much about you, but..."

"You look so much like my dad! Oh my god!"

She did too, a young, female Ronald Lawsen.

"My dad too, apparently."

"Yeah! Sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Don't worry about it. It's gonna take some getting used to."

They broke the hug and Charlotte held her at arm's length looking her up and down. Amy was shorter, thinner, and darker than her, all dressed in black — black jeans, black hoody, black shoes — even black nail polish. She was probably wearing black underwear too.

"So what's with the skirt?" Amy said. "You open for business, or what?"

"What!?" Charlotte said, laughing nervously.

"Sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I was just-"

She turned bright red. I think she'd meant it as a joke, a joke where she came from anyway, and didn't know how to explain it.

"Sorry," she said. "It's just- Girls don't dress like that where I'm from. The ones that do are considered, like... easy."

"Easy?" Charlotte said, covering her tummy with her forearms.

"I don't mean you're easy. I was just kidding. I'm just nervous. Sorry."

She trailed off. Everything got all awkward. Charlotte looked like she wanted to hide somewhere.

"Amy was just telling me how gorgeous you look a while ago, weren't you, Amy?"

"Yes! Oh god, yes!" Amy blathered. "You're like a model or something! I'm so jealous!"

"I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen," Charlotte replied. "You're like ... Daddy, except you're my sister."

And with that, Charlotte broke into tears. Amy, looked happy, and still somewhat awkward, but she wasn't crying. They hugged again, and just held each other.

"Wow! I can't believe it..."

"I have a big sister."

I walked around and picked up what I assumed was Amy's suitcase. There was a bag on the bench beside where she was sitting, but I left that for her.

"We should-" I began.

"Oh my god! Yes, let's get going! You've been in here all day. You must be dying to get out of here!"

"A little," Amy said, glancing over at me.

"We have so much to talk about! I have to tell you everything!"

"I want to know everything."

"Well, first of all, this is my boyfriend, Anthony. You met Anthony. What do you think of him?"

"Honestly?" she said.

"Of course honestly!"

I swallowed nervously, wondering if I'd offended her somehow.

"I think he's the bravest guy I've ever met."

"What?" Charlotte said. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he's dating you, and you're the most beautiful, sexiest person I've ever seen, and you've got guys everywhere who would love to take his place, or already have in the past, but he's still willing to give it a shot. That takes massive nuts."

Whoa! I fuckin' loved that girl!

Charlotte looked from her to me with awe on her face. I smiled, glancing down at the tiled floor of the terminal. I felt vindicated in one swift stroke.

"And he's hot too," Charlotte said, taking my arm. "Isn't he so totally hot!?"

Amy smiled, not looking at me. She didn't reply. We walked out of the airport into a new world.



-------

Chapter 21: Breakdown


"Wow. Look at this place," Amy said, as we pulled into the driveway. "It's a mansion!"

"That's what I said," I replied.

We got out of the car and I got Amy's suitcase from the trunk. Charlotte took her smaller bag, and we walked up the walk toward the front door.

"I hope you don't mind," Charlotte said. "I have some friends over."

"Oh?" Amy said. "Cool."

"Yeah. We're celebrating."

"Celebrating?" Amy said. "Celebrating what?"

Charlotte opened the door. There was a big banner hanging from the railing of the upstairs walkway that overlooked the main entrance: WELCOME AMY. Balloons and streamers were everywhere. Steve, Mick, and Janine had apparently seen us pull up and were waiting with a big cheer.

Amy stopped in the doorway, looking around, half a smile on her face. The rest of her face was tangled with unreadable emotion. She turned and hugged Charlotte. They hugged for a long time as though they were meeting for the first time all over again.

Janine was the first to approach. She gave Amy a great big hug as well and introduced herself.

"Sorry if I look kinda dumpy. I've been having sex with my new boyfriend all day."

Amy's eyes widened. Her face changed to surprise. Her smile turned to disbelief.

"Well, not all day," Janine said. "Only a couple times. Here he is. Isn't he gorgeous?"

Amy shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you..." she began.

"Mick," he said.

"Mick! Hi, Mick. As in Mick E. Mouse?" She laughed nervously.

"No. As in Damika, my grandmother."

"Well, at least they didn't name you Dam."

"This is Steve," Janine said. "And you already met Anthony."

"Yes," Amy said, smiling at me.

"Come on in, sis!" Charlotte said, with her half-giggle. She was still getting used to the idea. We all were. "There's food over here, if you're hungry. Drinks in the fridge. Giant screen TV. There's a pool out back. Whatever you wanna do, just name it."

"Can I take my stuff to my room first?" she said, smiling politely.

"Oh! Of course! Yes! Go upstairs. There's a guest room at the end of the hall on the right, across from the bathroom."

I'd seen that door dozens of times, and I never knew what was in there.

"Wow!" Amy said. "Look at this place!"

I looked around, seeing it again for the first time myself, through Amy's eyes. It must have been overwhelming.

"I'm gonna go change," Charlotte said. "I'll be right back."

"I'll help Amy get her bag up to her room," I added.

Amy left, following Charlotte up the stairs.

"Where's Sheila?" I asked them.

"She's locked up down in the studio with a plate of food. I don't think that girl plans on even sleeping this weekend, never mind coming up here to mingle."

"She should at least come and meet Amy!" I said.

"Yeah. I told her that. But she wouldn't listen. She won't show me what she's done so far either."

I picked up the suitcases and headed up the stairs.

"I'll go talk to her later," I said.

Charlotte and Amy were in Charlotte's bedroom, and Amy was staring around like a tourist in a palace. The ceilings were high, the bed was wide, the carpet was thick. She stepped on it like her feet would dirty it or something.

"Oh, come on! Don't be like that!" Charlotte said, dragging her into the room. "Your daddy's rich, girl! Get used to it!"

I took Amy's bags to the room down the hall and placed them by the bed. This room was equally posh, but more furnished for an adult than a teen girl. The ceiling was just as high, but it was sloped downward toward the windows on the left. Everything was chocolate and tan in the room. It looked luxurious, like an over-priced hotel room. There was even a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Up above the sloped ceiling were more windows, letting in light way up there. It was dark now of course, but it was probably a nice sight to wake up to. There was a little breakfast table over by the window and a shelf full of books on each wall.

"What's with the handcuffs?" Amy said.

"What?" I hadn't even noticed her sneak up behind me, never mind any handcuffs.

"There, on the bed."

On the wall at the head of the bed were two marble pillars, extending all the way to the ceiling. There was a length of chain hanging from each one with a handcuff at the end.

"Wow," I said. "Kinky. Never noticed that. Well, you don't have to use them if you don't want. It's your room after all."

"Maybe I will. Wouldn't wanna fall out of bed or anything."

I approached the foot of the bed to place her bags down. Amy lifted an ankle cuff from the stone pillar that made up the foot of the bed. She let it tangle from its chain between her fingertips and then dropped it again.

"Scary..." she said.

"The Lawsens are, like ... Well, I'll let Charlotte explain it."

"Do I want to know?"

"It does take some getting used to. I'm still trying to get my head around it after a few weeks of knowing them. They are great people though."

"I'm sure they are. Charlotte seems really nice."

Amy was talking to me like she'd come here to see me, and meeting Charlotte was a secondary thing. She was still nervous I suppose, and I was the first person in the city she'd met. It was like we were already friends.

Charlotte came bouncing in and sat on the bed.

"Look at these! Aren't they fun!?" she said.

Amy stared blankly. Charlotte realized once again, that Amy was still getting used to all this, and she flushed, suddenly embarrassed.

I also noticed she'd changed out of her slutty skirt, into a T-shirt and jeans. She still looked hot, but less slutty, less "open for business" as Amy had put it. I'd never seen her so self-conscious.

There was an awkward silence.

"Look up there!" Charlotte said. "The curtains are motorized."

She pressed a switch by the bed and the curtains closed themselves with a quiet electric hum.

"Cool, huh?"

"Yeah."

"You have your own private patio too!"

"Where?" I asked.

Charlotte bounced off the bed, and opened a window, which actually was a door it turned out, and stepped out onto the balcony. We followed her.

"Wow," I said.

"Yeah," Amy nodded.

"See back there?" Charlotte continued. "That's the pool. This is the garden. There's another patio down there. It smells like flowers over here in the summer time. Gorgeous! I like tanning up here in the summer. You get great sun, and it's semi-private, if you wanna, you know..."

She made a masturbation motion with her fingertips.

Amy glanced sideways at me and flushed a bit. She swallowed nervously again and said nothing.

"Come on! You can't be serious!" Charlotte said. "We're sisters! We're gonna talk about everything! And don't worry about Anthony! He's cool. He knows all my secrets anyway."

"Well, not all of them," I said.

"Well, not yet I guess. But eventually you will."

Amy went to the railing and looked out back toward the pool. Charlotte nibbled on her knuckle a bit, staring back and forth from me to Amy with a look of desperation in her eyes. I could tell she felt like she was blowing her first impression with Amy big time. I wanted to talk to her, let her know that she was doing just fine, that Amy was just overwhelmed by everything. It was all new to her. But I just smiled a half-smile at her and gave her a half-hug.

"I'll leave you two alone. I wanna grab a bite," I said.

What I really wanted to was to talk to Sheila.

When I got downstairs, Janine and Mick were making out on the couch, hot and heavy, mouths locked, tongues dancing. His hand was up her shirt, and she had hers on the bulge in his pants, massaging him sensuously, like she couldn't wait to get him into the next bed they could find.

"Guys," I said. "Easy on the public displays. Amy's still trying to get use to all this. Let's not weird her out."

"Hey," Janine said, with a naughty little giggle. "She's in our world now. She has to get used to us, not the other way around."

"Sure. I agree," I said. "But let's at least ease her into it, okay? She's also trying to deal with the shit with her mom. And she apparently broke up with her boyfriend last night."

Janine jumped off of Mick like he was on fire. Suddenly she was sitting beside him, holding his hand like two kids at a church picnic.

"Oh my god! Really?" she said.

"Yeah. It can't be easy for her."

"Is she all emotional and shit? Oh my god! That's so sad!"

"Actually, she hasn't even mentioned her mom yet. She seems like she's more overwhelmed by this whole new-family thing."

"Yeah."

"Well, be affectionate. Just don't be halfway down each other's pants. That's all."

"Gotcha," Janine said, and she went back to kissing him.

I gave them a thumbs up and headed downstairs.

Sheila was indeed shut up in the control room, sitting there, with one hand on the mouse, and the other on her chin. Her brow was furrowed. She looked frustrated. She looked thoughtful She was dragging and dropping little pictures of me and Charlotte around on a timeline window. Then she hit the spacebar and the scene spun into motion. We were covered in sweat and looked like we were exhausted. The shot changed and suddenly I saw a close-up of Charlotte's panting mouth. Then she stopped it again, and rearranged the shots on the timeline a bit. Damn it was hot! I got hard just from the ten seconds or so I'd seen.

"Great work," I said.

She suddenly looked up at me as though she hadn't even noticed me enter. She clicked off the monitor and turned to face me.

"What, Anthony? What's up?"

Cold and curt, like I was an interruption to her work — a nuisance.

"Aren't you gonna come and meet Amy?"

"I'll be up in a bit. This scene is pissing me off. I wanna get it done before I move on to anything else."

"It looks incredible to me, like a real movie."

"Gee thanks. Why don't you pat me on the head while you're at it?"

"I'm serious, Sheila. I'm honestly blown away. You're kicking ass at this."

"I try."

"Anyway, Amy's here now. She's upstairs. There's food too, if you want. We're gonna hang out."

"How's Charlotte dealing with all this?" Sheila asked.

"She seems very self-conscious. It's very cute. I've never seen her like that before."

"Really? That's weird."

"Yeah. Poor Amy was waiting at the airport for us since like 6:00. It was brutal. Charlotte's been a mess ever since. And some guy was all over her at the airport."

"Some guy?" Sheila said, flipping her monitor on again and reaching for the mouse.

"Yeah, some ex of hers apparently, or some fling she had. Something like that. Anyway, we almost got in a fight over it too. Amy had to step in and go to bat for me."

"Really?" Sheila said, dragging shots around on the time line again.

"Yeah. She was being all cold and bitchy on the way over, and I was trying my best to cheer her up, but she told me I babble too much, and then just took off on me. Next thing you know she's hanging all over this guy at the airport. It was really shitty. I felt like garbage."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I mean, am I her boyfriend or aren't I? Even Amy saw it. She was totally dissing me."

"Wow, you must have felt crappy," Sheila said, deleting a clip from the timeline, and then hitting undo.

"Totally crappy! I didn't feel respected at all."

"But did you feel more crappy than a girl who's looking at losing her mother, who's uprooted from her home and all her friends and left waiting in the airport for three hours to meet people she doesn't even know, who she's probably gonna end up living with, leaving her entire life behind? Did you feel more crappy than a girl who suddenly realizes that she's had a sister all this time, and that her daddy, the center of her universe her entire life, is suddenly no longer hers and hers alone anymore, and who suddenly has to get used to the idea, and make the best of it, like it or not, and then makes a bad first impression and is now agonizing over whether her new sister really even likes her? Wow, Anthony, you must feel pretty crappy, if you feel worse than that."

I didn't answer. She'd torn a strip off of me without even raising her voice, without even stopping her work on the computer. She'd put everything into perspective for me in one swift stroke. Suddenly all my complaints were small and petty. I realized I was being a selfish little infant, exactly as Charlotte had told me.

"When you're done pouting over the little tragedies of the dream world that is your life, be a friend and take care of someone else for a change. It's not always about you."

Ouch.

Drag. Drop. Click. Undo. Click.

I walked up behind her and gave her a hug.

"Thanks," I said.

"What for?"

"Just thanks. You're awesome."

"What are friends for?" she replied, and an orgasm was sucked off of Charlotte's face, back into me as she played the clip on screen in reverse. Then she hit play again and it flew out of me once more.

"Nice..." I said.

"I hate this shot."

"Why!? It looks amazing!"

"I wish I'd done it from the right side of you. It would fit better with the rest of the scene. See, Charlotte's to the right of you in every shot, and suddenly you're coming and she's to the left. It looks so amateurish."

"I never would have noticed if you hadn't said anything."

"Well I'm not doing this for you," she said.

"Ever the perfectionist."

"I'm only ever gonna do this once. I want it to be perfect."

"Can't you flip the clip over like a digital photo? You know, mirror image?"

She sat up suddenly and dragged down a menu. The next thing I knew Charlotte was on the right side of the shot and I was on the left.

She rolled it back and hit play. It looked seamless.

"I just hope no one notices the flower on her scrunchie is on the wrong side now," Sheila said.

"What scrunchie?" I replied, watching her gorgeous teen visage get painted again.

I patted Sheila on the head, teasing her, and turned to hurry out the door. She threw a pen at me, bouncing it off my ass, and I was gone.

I now knew why she was so obsessed with finishing that movie. She was putting her heart and soul into it, agonizing over every little detail. I decided that if she wanted to stay down there all weekend I'd let her, without arguing. She was doing what she loved. She was happy, and that was cool with me.

Amy was sitting on the couch with Mick and Janine when I got upstairs. She gave me a puzzled look as I emerged from the basement.

"What's going on down there that you're grinning about?" she asked me.

"I was just checking on the laundry," I said. Janine giggled. Amy looked at her, and then back at me, and then shrugged.

"Steve left," Mick said. "He said he'd call you tomorrow about the thing."

"Right," I said. "The thing. Right."

"Charlotte, are you coming down or what!?" Janine called out.

"What's she doing up there?" I asked.

"No idea," Janine said, shrugging one shoulder.

"I think she said she was gonna call her parents," Amy replied.

"I'll go check on her," I said, and trotted up the stairs.

She wasn't on the phone. She was in her walk-in closet, ripping all her clothes down and throwing them into a pile on the floor, visibly upset — so damn beautiful she took my breath away, but upset.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Her pout turned into a grimace, and then a scowl, and then rage, and she started crying.

"I'm a fucking whore!"

She ripped a skimpy top down off of a hanger, held it up, and then threw it angrily to the floor.

"What!? What are you talking about?"

"Look at all these clothes! What was I thinking!?"

"I think you look sexy in anything," I said. But as soon as I said it I regretted it. It doesn't always have to be about me, Sheila had said. Charlotte was having a crisis, and the last thing she wanted was for me to argue with her about it, even if I was only trying to cheer her up.

"Do you know how long it took me to find a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt?" she said. "Ten fucking minutes! To find something that doesn't make me look like I suck dick on the street corner for anyone with a hard-on."

I didn't know what to tell her. I honestly disagreed, but that wasn't what she wanted to hear. What do women want to hear when they're emotionally distraught? I felt like I was walking over a minefield, trying to find the right thing to say to make her feel better. In the end I realized that saying nothing at all about her clothes was probably the best option.

"I'm sorry," I said instead.

"For what?"

"At the airport, for acting like an infant. Here it is one of the biggest moments of your life and all I could think about was myself. Some boyfriend, huh? I'm sorry."

"Why are you even with me, Anthony? I'm such a fucking slut!"

She sat down in the middle of her piles of clothes and cried even harder.

I did the first thing that came into my mind — I rushed her. I pushed her backward before she could even say another word, got on top of her, and kissed her hard, with everything I had. I kissed her mouth, I kissed her tears, I kissed her eyes. I even kissed her hands when she brought them up to nibble her knuckle again. She struggled a bit at first, but I was too strong. I wanted to make her see how breath-taking she was, even if I had to hold her down to do it. She yielded to the force of my passion and just lay there whimpering beneath me. Finally I broke the kiss and looked into her eyes.

"You're as beautiful as you ever were, no matter what you wear. Nothing will ever change that. Just be yourself, Char, and let everyone think what they want. I'll still love you no matter what, if you'll still let me."

She was shaking, breathless, and staring wide-eyed up into my face, shocked at my sudden flood of adoration, my forcefulness of pouncing upon her and pinning her beneath my passion. I held her hand, I touched her cheek, I stared into her eyes and brushed a tear from her face with a finger. Then I kissed the tear off my finger and shook my head in disbelief.

"I'm amazed that someone as incredible as you could ever feel anything close to this insecurity, or whatever it is. I'm lucky to even be with you. All I can do is scramble like a mad man, trying to be worthy of you, trying to fight all my faults and flaws and just try to be everything you deserve, hoping that you won't suddenly wake up one day and realize I'm not worthy of you. Not even close."

She swallowed some burgeoning emotion. More tears fell.

"You're not a slut, Charlotte. You're not a whore. You're a beautiful, confident, and sexy woman who knows what she wants, takes it, and enjoys it, and doesn't give a shit what people think of her."

Her eyes fell away from mine. She wiped a tear from her cheek and sighed.

"That's what I'm supposed to be," she said. "But right now I feel like I'm drowning, ready to go under once and for all." Then she was whispering, her voice stolen away by emotion. "I'm so tired of the fight. Every single day I fight myself inside. I hear the cat-calls in my head. I hear the jeers. I hear what people are whispering. It plays over and over in my head until I just want to scream, but I put on a brave face and go back out there again, pretending to be this confident, secure, flawless and free person. But it's all an act. I don't even know if this is really who I am. I'm just like this because this is all I've ever known. And then Amy comes along and tears my whole world down in one little sentence: 'Are you open for business?' God, Anthony! That hurt so much. Because it's true! Deep down inside I know it's true. She saw right though me in an instant and I hate myself now."

Once again I was speechless.

I just laid on top of her, between her legs, looking into her incredibly beautiful face and thinking about how no matter how rich, poor, popular, lonely, no matter how mean, nice, out-going, or introverted, beautiful or ugly someone is, we all basically go through the same insecurities. Nobody is rock solid with unshakable confidence. Nobody is above self-doubt. Some of us are just better at hiding it than others. But deep down inside we all care what people think of us. Especially teens. Especially girls.

I just kissed her again, softly, loving the taste of her, pleading with her without words to understand how much I adored everything about her. If only she could feel what I felt right then. If only I could blast away her pain with the love I felt exploding inside me. If only-

"Guys?" Janine said from the door of the closet. "Amy's feeling kind of restless down there. We're gonna take her out for some ice cream. We'll be back in twenty minutes, okay?"

Janine saw that Charlotte was upset. She didn't ask about it.

"Thanks, Janine," Char said, and Janine left.

It was quiet for a moment and then I added, "I wouldn't want you to ever be anything but who you are, Charlotte. That's who I fell in love with. That's who I love so much I'm feeling destroyed with insecurity every time another guy-"

She stopped me, pressing her finger to my lips, and shaking her head. Then she pushed me up, rolled me onto my back and took my pants down to my thighs, freeing my cock, already hard from lying between her legs, from simply kissing her. She tugged her own jeans down, and straddled me, holding a finger to my lips to keep me from saying anything else, and guiding my cock into her opening at the same time. She descended onto it, sheathing me, and our breath ceased at the same time.

"Wow," I stammered, loving the feel of her like it was the first time all over again.

"I could scream right now. Here my world is falling apart, and all I wanna do is fuck you. It's the only thought in my head right now."

"Do you think I babble, Charlotte?"

"Shh! Don't talk. Just let me..."

She worked me in and out of her a few times, closing her eyes, loving the feel. It was written all over her face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth was open. She was panting and moaning sweetly, one hand on my stomach, the other on her pubic bone. She released a long, loving sigh, and began slowly grinding up and down on me while she continued.

"I guess, maybe I am a slut deep down inside. I might as well accept it. I love fucking. I can't change what I am. I should just accept it and enjoy the ride. I should just be a slut and be happy that I'm still young enough and free enough and beautiful enough to enjoy it."

"I love you, Charlotte. So much. Goddamn..."

I pulled her down to me in a kiss and she fucked me like that for twenty minutes, there on the floor in her closet, surrounded by piles of her scattered clothes. The empty clothes hangers swayed and tinkled like wind chimes above us.

She sat up, shut her eyes, and with one hand on my stomach and one behind her on my thigh, she fucked me hard.

"Maybe I am a slut. So fucking what! It feels so damn ... fucking ... good!"

She came hard, shaking, pouring out wetness onto. She gasped. She shivered. She squeezed me hard, shuddering inside as well as out. Then she collapsed on my chest and just lay there while I throbbed inside her, pulsating, ready for my own release, but not impatiently so. She cried out long and loud, like she was in agony, but I knew nothing could be further from the truth. She was in ecstasy words could not even describe and that frustrated her and enthralled her at the same time, as it did me.

"Oh, Anthony. You're wonderful," was all she could say.

A minute passed. Then another.

"Please come for me, Anthony. I feel so beautiful when you're coming."

Sometimes it was all about me after all.

I got up, turned her over, and fucked her toward an exploding climax. She held my forearms, raised her legs and let me take her, grunting and gasping at the delicious pleasure of the motion. It was gorgeous. She was gorgeous. She jiggled and moaned and gasped, and bucked, and bounced.

"Yes! Uh-huh! Yes! Come for me!"

It wasn't the pleasure that tipped me over the edge. It was the look in her eyes, that desperate, craving, worshipful look that told me without words that she would give me all her energy, her very soul if she had to, just for the joy of feeling my climax. That's what clinched it for me.

She stared at me with wild-eyed awe, panting, and shaking herself, and winding her pelvis in delicious little circles against me as my orgasm completed. Then I collapsed onto her and we both lie there breathing and throbbing against one another, our hearts pounding and our bodies wet with sweat.

"Ah! Ah! Oh my gah ... Charlotte..."

She held me like I'd just snatched her from the jaws of death or something, and wept hard into my neck.

"Oh god, Charlotte..."

There was nothing else to say.

Our problems weren't solved, our worries hadn't disappeared, but we were all gooey and tingling from a sweet, hard, and intensely loving fuck, and that made everything a little easier to deal with, at least for a while.

We got up, got dressed, and stood there hugging for the longest time, without speaking. The sex had said it all.



-------

Chapter 22: Troubled Beauty


"Have you seen the awesome job Sheila's doing down there?" I asked Charlotte. We were sitting on the couch, with Charlotte lying in my lap as we waited for Mick and Janine to return with Amy.

"I peeked in, yeah. That girl's got skills. She's gonna go somewhere in the industry I think."

"I hope so."

She didn't respond, but she smiled up at the ceiling. I stroked her hair.

"So you feeling better?"

"About the wardrobe? Not really. Maybe I'll get over it after a while, but I've definitely had a big insight into myself. The whole slut thing — I think it was all about my deep down insecurities, you know? It made me feel safe and comfortable, being desired so strongly by guys. Now, I don't know. Now I just feel like it's a substitute for actually having a personality."

"Come on, Char. You've got tons of personality."

"Maybe so, but it's bugging me now that I let my sexy slut act override that personality. It was just safer, easier. Now I see, Sheila, and Amy, and other girls like that, who don't have what I have — the raw physical beauty — and they've had to get by on their skills, and it makes me feel weak."

"Maybe not weak. Maybe just lazy."

"Maybe just scared."

"Yeah, but knowing that now is a good place to start, right? You can deal with it now. You're not pretending."

"Having an awesome boyfriend helps."

She snuggled into me, kissing my tummy.

"Just remember, dear," I said, "if you're ever feeling insecure: I'm no dummy, and I think you're the greatest thing since blueberry pancakes."

"Thanks, but knowing you're actually an intelligent guy doesn't really reassure me. It makes me worry that at some point you'll wise up and realize I'm just a good piece of ass. You really should be with Sheila. She's got a brain in her head. She's got personality she doesn't have to substitute with tits and ass."

"Don't talk silly, Charlotte. I adore you, everything about you. I don't want to be with anyone else, ever. Maybe saying so won't convince you, but unless you get sick of me, I'm still gonna be here loving you when you're old and gray."

"I'll hang onto that dream at least..."

And then Janine and Amy came bouncing in, giggling and laughing, and running for cover behind the couch across from us. Mick followed with ice cream all over his face.

"Traitor! My girlfriend's a back-stabbing traitor! The insolence!"

Charlotte giggled.

"What the hell happened!?"

"I figured I'd show him what's it's like to get his face creamed for once," Janine said.

"Ew!" Amy replied, but she was grinning, wrinkling her nose, but grinning.

"Mutinous dogs!" Mick bellowed. "I was driving! I couldn't even defend myself!"

"As if you're really complaining about getting your face creamed anyway, girl!" Charlotte said.

"Yeah," Janine answered. "You're right." Then she rushed him and began licking the ice cream from his face, slowly, sensuously, and thoroughly. We all stared, except me, who secretly watched Amy. Her nose was still wrinkled in apparent revulsion, but something in her eyes seemed a bit excited by the display. She actually looked very cute.

They eventually broke into a long, loving kiss and Amy sat down and let out a loud "Ahem!" which apparently didn't even register in their shared universe.

"So! Anyway!" Amy went on, loud, as though yelling over the din of a noisy crowd. "How about that local sports team, huh!?"

"Yes," I said. "That local sports team is sure winning their share of games."

"Quiet, you two," Charlotte said. "They're in love. There's nothing wrong with that."

Suddenly Janine broke away.

"We're in love? Says who?"

"Well, you might as well be," Charlotte said. "The way you're carrying on."

"Mmmmm," Janine purred, and went back to kissing him. "He just makes me feel all gooey and tingling inside, like it's damn good to be a woman when he's kissing me."

"Oh, god! As if!" Amy said. "What is this? Have I walked into a fuckin' chick flick or something!? You guys have got to be joking!"

"She's right, Amy," Charlotte said. "It sounds cheesy, but that's exactly what it feels like."

"I wouldn't know, and I don't really care either!"

"Didn't you feel that way with this boyfriend of yours?" Charlotte asked.

She didn't answer right away, but then she blushed, and then she got all angry, or at least tried to sound angry. We could all see right though it though.

"He was an asshole! All he cared about was getting into my panties, and that's just gross!"

"Gross?" Charlotte and Janine said together.

"Nuh-uh!" Janine added.

"Not even close," Charlotte added. "It's the most beautiful thing ever, when it's with someone worthy."

"Especially when you're in love," I added, and then Charlotte kissed me.

"Okay! Chick flick! Right there! You're doing it again! What the fuck is with you people!?"

"We're just telling the truth," Charlotte said. "Just because you've had a bad experience, doesn't mean that that's how it is. I've had a few bad experience myself, but being with Anthony makes it worth every moment of pain I got from the assholes who think with their dicks."

"Damn right!" Janine said.

"So forgive us, Amy, if we hang on our boyfriends a little while you're here. And forgive them if they seem to like it. When you've got a good thing going, you've gotta just enjoy it."

"I'm sure it'll stop when your parents get home!" Amy said, rolling her eyes.

We all burst into laughter, not at her, but at what she said. Charlotte's mom and dad were even worse than a couple of horny teenagers. Amy just stared blankly, looking at the inside joke from the outside, confused.

"What's so funny?" Sheila said, suddenly appearing at the top of the stairs, heading toward the kitchen for a drink.

"Amy figures all our public displays of affection will stop when Mister and Missus Lawsen get home."

"Actually that is kinda funny," she said.

"What!? Why is it funny!?" Amy demanded.

"Amy," I said. "You have handcuffs tied to the posts of your bed. Why do you think those are there?"

She didn't answer, but I think she's was beginning to put two and two together.

"Oh my god!" Charlotte said, suddenly changing the subject. "You know what!? Have you even seen a picture of Daddy yet!?"

"I've been kind of nervous to ask," Amy said.

"Come on! I'll show you."

They jumped up and ran upstairs.

Janine and Mick went back to kissing again, this time, sliding down onto the couch together.

"How's it going, She?" I asked.

"I'm pretty much done blocking out all the shots we've got finished so far. Steve left a few hours ago, but I've been able to work on some of the technical stuff he showed me on my own."

"Mmmm," Janine said. "Now I'm all hot for it again."

She took Mick by the hand and led him downstairs. Mick grinned at me, I smiled, watching Janine's ass wiggle as she disappeared from the room.

"Those two," Sheila said, doing a sarcastic impression of an old mother-in-law. "Always carrying on like a couple of teenagers."

"Jealous?" I said, smirking at her.

"A little. I've been watching you doing Charlotte all damn day and into the night. Partly I've gone numb to it and don't care if I ever see it again, but at the same time, I've been going crazy the whole time, squirming in my chair."

"I'll drive you home later, She. You've been too caught up in that whole film thing. You need some rest."

"Sounds nice," she said, and went back downstairs.

"Hey," I called out to her. She turned around.

"You still haven't met Amy."

"I met her earlier while you were upstairs with Charlotte."

"What do you think of her?"

"She's cool, for her age."

"I'm sure the stress has matured her a bit."

"How's Charlotte dealing with it?"

"She's having some issues, but more about herself, than with Amy."

"Weird," Sheila said. Then she was gone.

I went to the phone and phoned my mom, just to say hello and let her know that I was fine. We chatted for a few minutes and I told her I would be by later to pick up some clothes. She said she would be in bed. If I knew her though, she would get up, just to give me a hug, offer me something to eat.

Charlotte and Amy came bouncing down the stairs again, talking about all the places they were gonna go together and the things they just had to do. Well, it was mostly Charlotte talking, and Amy smiling quietly.

Mick and Janine came stumbling up the stairs after a while, grinning and giggling like a couple of drunks, but mostly sighing and smiling, feeling complete. Good sex will do that to you apparently.

We talked about what was going on the next day, how Charlotte and I had classes, but Mick and Janine would be able to take Amy around the town. Amy never doubted it for a moment, and was actually kind of excited to hang out with them, even though she'd only met them a few hours ago.

"Just promise me you'll come up for air once in a while, you two."

"I promise nothing," Janine said, and kissed him again.

Amy groaned, but didn't even wrinkle her nose this time. She just stared, sort of dazed, and then suddenly looked away, trying to pretend like they were being "so silly!"

I said nothing, though I knew she was actually a little excited by the intense display. I just smiled at her and shrugged. She rolled her eyes.

Then Sheila came upstairs and asked if I could drive her home. She needed a shower and a change of clothes.

"What have you been doing down there?" Amy asked.

"Laundry, of course," Sheila replied, without batting an eyelash. It was the standard line we'd all been using, and it had become another inside joke.

I got up and kissed Charlotte, telling her I'd be back in a while to sleep in her arms, and she shivered, kissing me sweetly.

"Can't wait," she said.

I dropped Sheila off at her house, gave her a hug and told her to get some rest. She looked more tired than I'd ever seen her. I wasn't sure why. And she looked kinda sad too.

For some reason, I wanted to tell her I loved her, that I always had, ever since that day when we were kids and I scraped my knee on a fence and she put a band-aid on it for me, giving it a little kiss, and smiling up at me. But I didn't. I just hugged her and said goodnight. And she was gone.

I stopped to pick up a change of clothes at my house and showered, and then I went back to Charlotte's. She was asleep when I got there, hugging her pillow, snuggled up in her blanket. I peeked in on Amy down the hall. She was asleep too, just as beautiful, but kinda troubled looking. She looked like a child fading halfway into womanhood, or a woman still clinging to her childhood, at least in the innocence of her sleeping face. I don't know. She looked troubled though. I pulled her covers up over her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. I gathered she couldn't have been too peaceful, a thousand miles away from her dying mom.

Then I went and lay down beside Charlotte. She snuggled up to me when she felt my weight on the bed next to her, and I lay on my back staring up at the ceiling, thinking about Sheila, all by herself in that bed in that basement. I wished she was there with me.

I wish I'd told her I loved her. Her and that little band-aid on my knee.



-------

Chapter 23: Hard Arguments


I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of distant moaning. My head was fuzzy, my body was exhausted, but the sound was unmistakably sexual. Very faint, very distant, but definitely someone fucking, somebody somewhere in the house.

Charlotte was right there beside me, sleeping soundly.

Who else was in the house? Mick and Janine? No. They'd gone home while I was out driving Sheila. There was only...

Amy!

I swung my legs off the bed, feeling stiff and sore all over my body, like I'd been beaten up. I felt old, tired, drained. Well, what did I expect in a week like that? I was in good shape, but no Navy Seal or anything. My body could only take so much. I'm not even sure how I woke up out of such a dead sleep.

"Uh! Fuck ... me! Yes! Oh god, yes!" a distant voice said, faint and hushed. Who was it? I didn't recognize the voice.

I stood up and she rolled away without waking, turning to hug the pillow on the right side of her. Her ass peeked out from the sheets and I sat in a sleepy daze for a moment, just admiring its sweet roundness.

"I'm gonna come! I'm gonna- Here it comes!"

I snapped out of my daze. Someone was fucking. It damn sure wasn't Amy. So who was it? Had the Lawsens come home early? No. Impossible.

I rose to my feet, scratched my head and stretched, then shuffled tiredly to the door in my underwear.

I heard the sex, louder now. It was coming from the Lawsens' bedroom across the hall. The door was open a crack. The light was out, but I could see the dim flicker of a television lighting the floor outside the door, and the wall across the hall in pale, flesh-colored hues. The hall was otherwise dark.

I walked over the carpet and pushed the Lawsens' bedroom door. It swung on its hinges without a whisper. There with her back against the Lawsens' bed, sitting on the floor, was Amy, watching a porn video. Some guy had just finished coming all over a beautiful blonde's face, and she was licking it off her fingers with ravenous delight. Amy looked horrified, like she was watching bodies being pulled from a train wreck. She was hugging her knees, biting her right thumb, staring with morbid curiosity and rapt attention. Though it apparently mortified her, she couldn't turn away.

"That settles the mystery of Lady Chatelaine," the man on screen said, wiping his cock across her lips. The man was Doug Devone. I recognized the voice. The woman sucked him into her mouth again, and gave its head a slurping, sucking kiss, releasing it with a sensuous pop.

"Yes, sir. It does," she said.

The scene faded and then cut to a brunette in the bath, washing her long sensuous legs with a white sponge. She had beautiful round breasts with high and swollen nipples. Her lips were full and pouting. She moved slowly, along with the soft music that played, and the candles in the room lit up the droplets of water on her skin like jewels.

Amy's face went slack, less disgusted and more awed. She watched almost without blinking, wondering what would happen next.

A man entered.

"It's done, Julia. Mr. Jerrickson has seduced Lady Chatelaine and gotten it all on tape. Victory is ours."

The woman in the tub did not look up. She raised an eyebrow as though she'd known it all along and continued washing.

"So then everything's gone exactly according to plan," she said. " ... except for one small detail."

The man looked askance at her, saying nothing. She rose from the water, dripping wet and glowing from the heat, and pulled him forward. "You still owe me a good hard fucking. Or have you forgotten our little wager on the steadfast virtues of Lady Chatelaine?"

Again he did not reply, but when she unzipped his pants and pulled his generously-sized cock out, he did not refuse. She tugged and stroked at him, lifting her mouth to kiss him and soon he was fully erect in her hands.

"I didn't think you'd object," Julia said, and then she dropped slowly out of the bottom of the shot, and the camera zoomed in on his face. His steely gaze faded from stoic strength to dawning ecstasy.

"We both win this one," he said, and the shot cut to a close-up of her tongue working some dexterous magic on the shaft of cock. The base of him was at her chin, the head was above her hairline. He was huge when erect. Amy seemed to be going crazy, completely astonished. She extended both hands toward the screen in disbelief and then slapped both palms to her cheeks, gasping as the woman sucked the man's hardness into her mouth.

I grinned, walking into the room and looking at her from the shadows by the closet. I could see awe, wonder, and revulsion written all over her face. She was a girl, not yet fourteen, watching her first porn. She apparently could not believe that people actually made movies like that, where people have hardcore graphic sex every four minutes with little or no hesitation, big fat cocks disappeared into mouths, vaginas, and tight little asses without the slightest complaint from either participant, come flew like candy, raining down on excited young women who lapped it up eagerly and went back for more. It was a whole new universe to her. Amy was blown away.

From this new angle I noticed she was sitting there in her underwear — a little bra and panties. I gathered she'd gotten up for a drink or a trip to the washroom and wandered in here curious about the Lawsens' private life. The drawer beneath the television was hanging open and there were racks and racks of DVDs in there, dozens of movies. She'd apparently selected one and pressed play. The Seduction of Lady Chatelaine came on the screen and she'd been sitting here watching for over an hour now. This was apparently the last scene.

I let her watch it in silence, watching her with as much morbid curiosity as she had in watching the action unfold on screen. Her mind was being deflowered in a way and it was strangely exciting to behold. The look in her eye, though she was painted with disgust, betrayed an underlying arousal that could not be hidden. She'd sat there watching the entire thing after all, though she could have switched it off at any time. Apparently she was not the little priss she made herself out to be.

The action progressed on the screen and Amy was now watching the man slide his thick hard cock into Julia from behind, as she bent over, holding onto the edge of the bathtub, and arching her back, thrusting her ass backward at him in eager invitation. His cock poked into her, secured itself in her grip, and then slid all the way in, down to the bottom of her in one smooth, wet stroke. He was thick, and you could see the mouth of her vagina yawn into a wide O to accommodate him. You could see her redden as the nerves awoke to the tingling friction of his thrusting. She was slickened with excitement though, and he got to the bottom of her with apparent ease and mutual satisfaction.

"Ah god, that's a beautiful cock!" she said, almost growling from the sweet, burning stretch. "I've waited so long for this, Mr. Remington, and you do not disappoint."

The look of disgust had finally faded from Amy's face. Now she simply stared with a blank sort of hypnotized gaze as the man began pumping himself in and out of her. Amy's mouth was open and her eyes shone in the darkness, dancing with the reflections of the sin on screen. And she still didn't know I was there, though I was standing a mere six feet away from her. She was entranced and oblivious, struck dumb by the raw animalistic, unapologetic sexuality being paraded across the screen before her.

Finally I spoke, scaring the freakin' hell out of her.

"Good show, Amy?"

She jumped. She squeaked, almost screaming aloud, but stopping herself. She suddenly found herself caught, naked except for her underwear, and worse, watching porn! She didn't know which to be embarrassed about first. She scrambled for the remote control, she jumped onto the bed to dive for cover on the other side, stabbing at buttons as she quickly backed up, and then she slid right off the edge on the other side, sideways, cracking her head on Stephanie's end table with a loud smack.

Ouch!

I jumped over the bed after her and found her lying on the floor, out cold. Yikes! Not good! She was breathing at least. I sighed with relief.

"Damn!" I said in the darkness.

I scooped her up in my arms, finding her surprisingly slim and light in spite of my fatigue, and I hurried out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the living room where it was brighter. I laid her gently down on the couch and checked her head. She was not cut, but there was a great bruise swelling on the right side of her head, above her ear. The edge of the night table was curved, but very solid wood. I went to get some ice from the fridge.

Moments later I had her lying across my lap, holding the ice in a tea towel against her bruise. It took her a while to come around. I just held her there, stroking her hair and shifting the icepack back and forth so her skin wouldn't freeze. I waited, thinking what a headache she would have tomorrow, and hoping it wouldn't interfere with her plans to run around with Mick and Janine while we completed the final shots. If she'd really hit her head hard and had a headache all day, she might not want to go anywhere. Damn!

It was just a small bruise though. Maybe she was barely hurt at all and just fainted from shock. Yes, that was it ... I hoped!

"Oh, my fuckin' head..." she moaned. "Wha- Where... ?"

Her eyes opened a sliver and she saw me looking down at her.

"You fell off the bed and banged your head. I brought you down here to put some ice on it. You okay?"

"Oh, my fuckin' head..." she said again.

"You gotta be careful, jumping around in a bed like that."

"Ow!"

Then she suddenly remembered what had happened.

"Oh my god! You were like, standing there the whole time!"

"For about five minutes."

"Why didn't you say anything!?"

"I did, and look what happened — you almost cracked your head open."

"Shit."

"Don't worry about it. I'm not gonna tell anyone."

"I just couldn't sleep. So I was wandering around the house. I went out on the patio. I looked up at the stars. I went down the hall and checked in on you guys. I went down the hall and poked around my dad's room, and that's when I found those videos! I couldn't believe it!"

"You looked pretty shocked."

"That stuff is so sick! I almost puked!"

Sure, you did. I thought to myself.

(Shut up, Anthony!)

"I can't believe people actually get off on that stuff. It's so gross!"

"But you did watch the whole thing," I said.

"Yeah, well, I..."

"Uh huh," I said, patronizing her.

"Shut up! I was just watching it cause I couldn't believe how sick it was. It was so gross! Totally!"

"So you watched the sickest thing ever ... for like an hour?"

"No! I- Shut up! I did not!"

"You just said you did."

I was chuckling now. She was so freakin' cute. She didn't reply, but her face was turning some cherry shade of red.

"Ah, my fuckin' head!" she said. Then she opened her eyes and suddenly realized she was lying mostly naked on my mostly naked lap. Her cheek was inches away from the bulge in my underwear.

"Wha!" she said, and jumped up again, or at least tried to. She got halfway up to a sitting position and something in her head went no-I-don't-think-so, and she flopped back down on my lap again. She covered her chest with her arms, but kept one hand on the icepack. I continued to stroke her head.

"Ow!" she whined. "Why did I have to hit my head!?"

"You got caught watching people fucking. You were embarrassed"

"I was not watching it!"

"Were too! I saw you!"

"Well you saw it! Wasn't it sick!? Those guys were shooting stuff on those girls' faces, and they were like, licking it off and shit. O-my-god! Ew!"

"And yet you kept watching..."

"So!? It was sick! I just wanted to see what would happen next."

"So you liked it, in a way."

"No! I never!"

"You must have."

"Okay! Whatever! I don't wanna talk about it anymore. Just don't tell anyone."

"I won't."

"Swear!"

"I swear. But you'll come to find out, as you get to know this family, that they don't think it's as gross and sick and 'O-my-god! Ew!' as you do."

"I don't get it. Why do they have so many? Are they like, sex fiends or something?"

"You might say that. They're very open about sex around here. It might take some getting used to. You're gonna have to let go of your disgusted attitude sooner or later. Sex isn't as gross as you think."

"But they squirted that ... stuff! All over her face!"

"Was it really, so gross, Amy? Honestly?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"Because!"

"That's not an answer."

"It is to me!"

"You're funny."

"I am not. It was gross."

I looked down at her, right into her eyes.

"I don't believe you really feel that way. I think you just want me to think you do so that I don't think you're easy, like the girls in your old neighborhood."

"I'm not!"

"I know you're not. But just because you enjoyed watching that porn vid, doesn't mean you are either."

"I didn't!"

"Yes you did. You watched it for an hour, and you got really, really wet and tingly between your legs."

"I did not!" she said, loud enough to wake Charlotte. Charlotte didn't wake though. Amy forced herself up this time and wriggled over to the other end of the couch to hide herself, curling into a self-conscious little ball.

"Don't worry, Amy. I'm not gonna think less of you for liking porn. I like porn. Charlotte likes porn. Your dad and Stephanie obviously like it too. It's normal. It's healthy. It's sexy."

"It is not! It's gross!"

She sure liked to argue, but my confidence was unnerving her.

"So why are you so wet then? You're still wet, just thinking about it, aren't you? The way the dick slides in. The way his muscles move. The way-"

I was being deliberately blunt now, just toying with her phony outrage.

"Shut up!"

She slapped her hands over her ears, trying to block out my words, and accidentally hit her bruise.

"OWIE! Shit!"

She slouched down onto the couch again, letting her head sag back over the arm. Then she realized she was lying there with her legs open, and she tried to sit up.

"Oh my god! You're such a perv! You're like-"

"I just wanna prove a point to you."

"What point!?"

"That sex isn't as gross as you pretend to think it is."

"It is! Sluts have sex and I'm not a slut!"

The gal sure liked to argue.

"Beautiful, loving couples have sex too, and they love it."

"But they're not all sick about it!"

"Sometimes they are. It's fun, Amy. I know you think it's sexy, at least somewhere inside you. You just have mental blocks about it."

"So!? I can think whatever I want."

"Sure. Of course you can. But life and love won't be nearly as much fun."

She glanced over. She glanced down. She quickly glanced away. She licked her lips, nervously. She hugged her knees.

"You don't really think sex is as gross as you pretend. You actually like seeing a guy naked. You're completely soaking wet, and even though you wish you weren't, there's nothing you can do about it, and at the same time you kinda like it. It feels sexy. It tingles. It feels like it wants something."

"It does not!"

She was horrified now, but she never really yelled. She just whispered fiercely at me. Her eyes flared wide like a cornered wildcat.

"It does. Close your eyes and think about it. Listen to what it's telling you."

"What the hell are you talking about!? It's not saying anything!"

"Look. You're nipples are hard too. I bet they're tingling and you can feel it in your tummy and on down into the wetness, all gooey and sexy and slippery."

She slapped her arm across her chest, trying to hide the fact that I was exactly right. She crossed her legs. She could have got up and run away, but she didn't.

"I am not! Stop it! You're being gross!"

"Who are you trying to convince, Amy? Me, or yourself?"

"I don't need to convince myself. I know you're being gross!"

"Maybe it's gross, maybe it isn't, but it doesn't change the fact that it's completely and totally true. I'll be upstairs if you wanna talk about it some more. Otherwise, goodnight."

"Goodnight," she said, crossing her arms, all in a huff.

I got up and turned toward her. She looked at me. Her hands were shaking. She backed away a bit, sinking back into the couch as though I might pounce all over her or something.

"Just one more thing, Amy," I said. "Think whatever you want about sex, porn, guys, dicks, fucking, come shooting all over someone's face, whatever. Think whatever you want, but for god's sake, be honest with yourself. You'll never be happy if you're not honest with yourself, deep down inside. If you really are turned on, just be honest with yourself about it. Stop trying to hide behind this prissy-ass facade of yours. Nobody's fooled. Just be who you are and fuck what anyone else thinks."

She didn't say anything. She just stared up at my face like I was a ghost or something. She suddenly looked incredibly scared.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"That's like, exactly what my mom said to me before I left, the last time I saw her. Not about the sex stuff, but about being honest, and never being happy."

A tear welled up in her eye.

"I guess maybe it's true, huh?"

Suddenly I felt bad for bugging her so much about sex. The poor kid. Now that I saw the tear spill down her cheek, I remembered that she was on the verge of losing her mom.

Everything I said to her was true, but the timing was wrong. Now she was upset. Damn! Me and my big mouth.

"Well, I'm going to bed. Come see me if you need anything."

"Anthony, wait!"

"Yeah?"

"Don't go, okay?"

"You okay?"

"No. Not really."

"What do you need?"

"I wanna go back to bed. My head still hurts. But I don't wanna be alone."

"I'll come along with you then, hold you til you fall asleep."

"Okay..."

"I'll get dressed though," I said. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, laying next to a disgusting old dick like this."

I smirked at her.

"It's ... it's not disgusting, I guess," Amy said. "It's just ... I'm not used to all that stuff."

"I understand. Thanks for being honest. I know it's hard sometimes."

"Don't worry about getting dressed. I don't care."

"I'll lay on top of the blankets."

"Okay. Good."

We went upstairs to her room. I dimmed the lights to a low candle-level glow. She got tucked into bed, and I lay on the bedspread beside her. She was lying facing away from me, but I knew she wasn't asleep yet. She was quiet, thinking hard.

After a while she asked, "Do you think I just put on acts in front of everyone? Does it seem like it?"

"You put on an act for yourself, Amy. That's the problem. Maybe everyone's just seeing the phony act you put on for yourself."

"I don't try to be like that. It's just what comes out. I try to be myself, but it's like this whole other person takes over. This smart-ass, know-it-all Amy. I'm not like that. Really, I'm not. At least I try not to be."

"We all try to be ourselves, but people can be shitty, and throw the real you back in your face. It sucks. It really hurts. Sometimes it's safer to hide who you really are so you never get hurt like that. Sometimes you get so good at it you even hide it from yourself."

She said nothing. I continued.

"Charlotte does it too. She was just saying so this evening."

She was quiet again. I continued.

"I do it too, in a way, but not really. I'm just insecure sometimes."

"I know. I saw it at the airport."

"It's that obvious, huh?"

"You don't need to be. Not at all."

"Thanks for saying so. Hearing it is one thing though, but it doesn't always feel that way."

"I know."

And then she drifted off into her thoughts, and I sort of dozed.

"Anthony?" She said.

"Yeah?"

"I caught my mom doing all that stuff with her boyfriend one time, a few years ago. She didn't know I was watching but I saw them. They were doing all that stuff ... like everything. I just sat on the floor and watched. And I was thinking, wondering how come I didn't have a dad. I didn't even really know the guy she was with and it kinda grossed me out that she was so open and intimate with him like that, and I didn't even know him. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah."

"I think maybe that's why I pretend like it's gross. I think maybe I was just mad, you know ... about mom and that guy."

"Yeah."

"But now I think that it wasn't gross at all ... cause this was before she had cancer, before she was all skinny and pale and weak. She was beautiful and sexy and full of life and energy, and that's what I was always thinking about when I sat next to her in the hospital. I never told her how beautiful I thought she was, just going crazy on that guy. I never realized how beautiful she was until I saw her half dead in that ugly blue bed. She looked like a skeleton, Anthony. I was just sitting there watching her sleep and she looked like she was already dead ... and I was just wishing she was young and healthy and sexy and full of life again, fucking her brains out with that stranger I didn't even know."

"Sometimes sex is a really beautiful thing, huh?"

"It's better than dying."

She was quiet for a moment, and then I felt her shaking on the bed beside me. I turned and put an arm on her shoulder.

"You okay?"

She shook her head. When she spoke, her voice was high and cracked, nearly broken with the struggle against sobbing.

"I miss her." And then she burst out crying. "I don't want my mom to die."

I rolled her over and hugged her. She turned to me, buried her face in my chest and sobbed like little child.

"Sex really is kinda gross," she said. "Slimy and gooey and messy and there's those weird noises and smells and dirty words ... But I'd rather see her fucking like a whore with some random guy I never met than dying in that fuckin' bed! Fuck!"

I didn't answer her. No more arguing. She cried herself to sleep in my arms, and I just held her, not knowing what to say. Sometimes it's a shitty, random, stupid world, and there's not a goddamn thing you can do about it. I held her, and kissed her head, and she cried like she'd been holding it in for weeks. Then her sobs faded into long sighs, and her shaking stilled. Her breathing slowed, and she was asleep.

A while later, I fell asleep too. It was one of the last peaceful sleeps I had for a long time.



-------

Chapter 24: That's a Wrap


We ate a quick breakfast together and Janine grabbed Amy by the hand and pulled her out the door.

"We're going shopping!"

"I don't have any money," Amy replied.

Charlotte went to her purse and gave Amy a wad of bills that made her eyes widen — probably hundreds.

"That should be enough. Buy yourself something cool, some new clothes ... with color!"

Amy lowered her head and cocked her eyebrow at Charlotte.

"I like black."

Amy was dressed in black even then — a black hoody and black pants, probably black panties too.

"Well then at least get something that's black with a bit of color to it."

"Come on. We'll work it out. These guys have to get going to school."

They burst through the door and out into the day.

Mick hung back and asked us how much time we needed.

"If we're not done by five, it's not getting done," I said. "Just call us before you bring her back."

"Will do."

Mick left and Charlotte and I tidied up the breakfast table while we waited for Shelia and Steve.

I watched her load the dishwasher and was once again flooded with a barrage of emotions — lust, fear, insecurity, desire, and a gut-wrenching amount of love. How such a beautiful girl, with so much going for her, could ever be in love with me was beyond my comprehension. If she left me for the first good looking rich guy that came along I would not be surprised at all. I'd be brutally crushed and nearly emotionally destroyed, but not surprised. She deserved so much more than me, yet somehow she honestly believed that she couldn't imagine herself being with anyone else. I was her dream come true.

Now here she was bending over the dishwasher, dropping plates and cutlery into the trays, flipping her hair up onto her back each time it fell down off of her shoulder. She glanced at me sideways and noticed me watching her. Even the little sideways flick of her eyes was gorgeous. The smile she gave me made my heart skip.

"What, baby?" she said.

"Have I told you lately how beautiful I think you are?"

"You don't have to. It's written all over your face."

"I think you're beautiful. It's almost magical how beautiful you are. Everything about you. Every motion. Every flick of your hair. It's like art in real time. It's like poetry in real live 3D."

She smiled again and shook her head.

"I'm just me. You gotta stop sighing and swooning like that, thinking I'm some sort of goddess or something. I'm gonna disappoint you some day and you'll see that I'm just a normal girl, just like everyone else, only a little sexier."

"A little?"

"Okay then, a lot sexier. But that doesn't make me a goddess, and you better get used to that idea."

"I'll try."

"I hope so. I don't want to see the heartbreak in your eyes when you see that I'm not as magical as you think I am."

"I know you're not perfect, but I think you're perfect for me."

"That's the best I can hope for, I guess."

She stepped over to me, brushed her hands off on a towel and gave me a kiss, wrapping her arms around my neck and really digging in with her entire mouth. Then she broke away with a slippery little sucking snap of my bottom lip.

"Thank you for saying so, though. It's part of the reason I love you so much. When you talk, you're not just trying to get into my panties. You really mean it, and it means a lot to me."

She kissed me again. Then she shut the dishwasher and started it. It barely made a sound, just a low hum that you couldn't even hear once you were outside the kitchen.

We sat cuddling in the living room for a while longer, still waiting for Sheila and Steve. She was late by that point. They both were, but we barely seemed to notice.

I told Charlotte the story of how I'd caught Amy watching porn the night before, how she'd hit her head, the things we talked about together, and how I ended up in her bed because she was lonely and afraid.

"I think she's got a crush on you, Anthony. She really does."

"Really?"

I knew she liked me, possibly more than she liked Charlotte at that point, but it never occurred to me that she might have a crush. She was young though, so who knows?

"You haven't noticed the way she looks at you, when she thinks nobody's looking? The way she stands so close to you when there's plenty of room all around her?"

I just thought she's maybe insecure about this new city, this new house and such, and just thought of me as a friend, the first guy she met.

"I'm sure that's true too, but I think there's more."

"Hmmm."

"I'm pretty sure she's nowhere near used to the whole idea of our family and the open sexuality we believe in. I think she probably feels bad even thinking thoughts like that about you, knowing that you're her sister's boyfriend."

"How long do you think she'll last before she's out to lose her virginity?"

"No idea, but I bet she's already thinking about what it would be like to do you."

"Me? I'd tear the poor girl in half!"

"She doesn't know that. Girls don't think the same way as guys. All she's thinking about is how you'd feel in her arms, your hugs, your kisses, maybe how your dick might feel in her hands at the very most."

"All guys think about is how a girl's pussy is gonna feel, wrapped around their cock."

"And girls start thinking that way too, after they've had sex a few times, but there's still always an emotional pull too, a sense of excitement about the whole person, not just their parts. It's weird, the first time you touch a guy. It doesn't matter if you're a wet-behind-the-ears virgin, or a well-seasoned veteran slut — every new guy you're with is a brand new experience, full of potential, full of fresh excitement. I don't know who invented monogamy, but it sure is a soul-crushing concept."

"Not every woman feels that way, Charlotte."

"I know. Most women get sick of going through guy after guy and they just want to find one special guy who hits all the right buttons and settle down with him forever. I think that's just kinda lazy."

"Lazy?"

"Well, it's like, it takes work to keep going back out there on new adventures. These women just wanna be comfortable, sit on their asses and have their buttons pushed and live happily ever after. They don't wanna go through all the trouble, the risks. The excitement is too much for them."

"Maybe they're just not really excited about it like you are?"

"I guess, but it still seems kinda lazy. What's not to be excited about? You're exploring a whole new human being, full of quirks and energy and personality and emotion. It's exhilarating."

"I hope you never wind up getting tired of me."

"No more than mom gets tired of dad. I think the goal is to have the best of both worlds, to be comfortable and safe and secure with that special someone, and yet be constantly challenged, excited, thrilled, feeling like every brand new day is a new adventure, and every fuck is exciting as the first time."

"I'm not sure I'm that exciting though."

"It's not about you, silly. It's about me being excited by you, even when you're boring."

"Hmmm."

Then Steve burst in.

"Sorry I'm late, guys. I had to go to my first class. There was an assignment I had to turn in, and then he wouldn't let me leave."

"What time is it?" Charlotte asked.

Steve glanced at his watch. "Five after ten. Sheila's downstairs already?"

"No. She hasn't gotten here yet either," Charlotte said, turning to look at the clock in the kitchen, as though it had a different time than Steve had given.

"I better call her," I said.

I called. Sheila answered, croaking like a weary toad.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, sleepy head."

"Anthony?"

"Yes, ma'am. How's it going?"

"What time is it?"

"It's after ten."

"It's after ten?"

"Yes. We were sort of wondering what time you were gonna get here. We need to get started."

"Oh my god! It's after ten!"

"Yes."

"I slept in. Oh my god!"

"You want me to pick you up?"

"Yes. Could you? I just gotta shower. I'll be ready by the time you get here."

"You okay?"

"I'm fine. I was just exhausted. I didn't even hear my alarm go off this morning."

Then she groaned.

"Where's my shirt? Where's my-"

She grumbled to herself. I couldn't hear the rest, but I sat there smiling, imagining her frantically throwing clothing every which way around her room, limping a bit, staggering on stiff legs, trying to get her balance.

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Okay, bye!"

-click-

"I gotta go get her. She slept in."

"Poor girl," Charlotte said. "She's probably exhausted."

"She is, but she seems very eager to get going."

"I'm gonna go get everything turned on and ready to go," Steve said.

"You smell good, Steve," Charlotte said. "What did you do?"

He cocked his head back in surprise. He blushed a bit.

"Nothing. Just some cologne."

"It's nice," Charlotte said.

"Uh ... thanks."

"Yeah. You should spritz up more often. You almost smell sexy."

He grinned and headed downstairs.

Charlotte smiled at me.

"Go figure. The boy's becoming a man it seems."

"He just needed to hang out with some cool people for a while I guess."

"Get going, Anthony. We have lots of work to do."

She smacked me on the ass and sent me hurrying out the door.

I hopped into my truck and drove to Sheila's. She was waiting for me on her steps, and came bouncing across the yard with her bag and a binder full of notes when she saw me pull up.

She briefed me on the schedule for the day and it turned out we actually didn't have all that much left to do. Just one major scene with a lot of dialog, and some voice-overs in the sound booth.

"Then I'm gonna spend the rest of the weekend in the control booth. If you see my face at all, it'll be because I accidentally stabbed myself or something and just need a quick trip to the hospital before getting back to work."

"You have that much left to do? I thought you were mostly caught up with the editing?"

"I have it all done, but none of it's the way I want it to look, you know?"

"You're too much of a perfectionist. This isn't even gonna be seen by anyone."

"It'll be seen by me, and I want it to be right."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. You're doing an awesome job."

"Hmmm."

"From what I've seen so far, it's as good as any porn I've ever seen. It's as good as any actual movie. I haven't seen much though."

"You and Charlotte work out that fight of yours?"

"Yup."

"Fucked all the stress and insecurity away?"

"Somehow the insecurity never quite goes away, no matter how much I fuck her. It's weird. I just don't feel worthy of her."

"You are. Without the money and the supermodel looks, she's just another girl. She knows it too. You can tell."

"I suppose that's part of what that breakdown last night was all about."

"Yup."

"It's still hard to figure though. Even without the money and the looks, she is a beautiful person. What the hell does she see in me?"

"Hmmm."

"I don't think I'll ever understand it, but I'll enjoy the ride while it lasts."

"It'll last. Don't worry. If she's dumb enough to let you go, it'll be the worst mistake of her life."

"You're too kind, She."

"What can I say? I guess none of us really see the beauty in ourselves that others see. We hear people rave about us and we think they're talking about someone else. It feels weird."

"It feels good though."

"If you trust it."

"I guess."

"How's Amy?"

"She seems to be adjusting to things a bit better. She's not so prudishly shocked by every little thing like she was last night."

"Cool."

"Yeah."

"What do you think of her, Ant?"

"She's a sweet kid. Smart for her age. Kinda reminds me of you."

"Gee, thanks. Pat me on the head why don't you?"

"I mean when you were her age, silly."

"I know. Just buggin'."

We pulled into Charlotte's driveway and got out, hurrying into the house.

"I warn you in advance, She; Steve's wearing cologne. Smells pretty sexy, apparently."

"I told him to do that."

"You!?"

"Yeah. The B.O. was getting to me."

"Ouch!"

"He didn't over-do it, did he? Too much cologne is worse than B.O."

"No. Char had no complaints. She actually complimented him."

"Right on."

We went into the house and down the stairs. Steve and Charlotte were ready to go, and after a short briefing of where we were at, we got to work.

Charlotte and I spent the day in bed, naked. She lay between my spread thighs with my cock in front of her face, sucking on it between lines. We redid the scene, over and over again, from different angles, getting the dialog mixed up, starting over, rechecking the script, adjusting the microphones and lighting, until finally we got three really good takes. I had to deliver my lines with Charlotte expertly slurping my cock around in her mouth, and I could barely speak, never mind remember and deliver complicated dialog. It was fun, but frustrating at the same time, and Sheila was getting madder each time we screwed up. I managed to get myself under control. I simply realized that I had absolutely nothing to be frustrated about. I had an absolutely beautiful girl who had nothing better to do than suck on my cock for two and a half hours while we worked on getting this scene right. She did not complain about it once and even seemed to enjoy the fatigue when it began to set in. I had most of the dialog in the scene. Charlotte had a few words to add in here and there, one-word questions to ask, stuff like that, and then she was back on me, sucking happily like I owned her or something and she was glad of it. I eventually relaxed and just enjoyed the experience overall. How many men out there would have loved to be in my place right then?

Steve in particular must have been going insane. I honestly admired his restraint, his professionalism. Most guys his age would have been jumping all over the place trying to get some sort of action in the midst of all that raw sexiness, but he just focused on his job, looking at it from a purely technical standpoint, helping Sheila to make us beautiful. Steve turned out to be a pretty cool guy.

We got the shots we needed. I never did come after all that oral sex, though I came close a few times when Charlotte got a little too eager with her suction. I just tensed a bit in those moments and she knew to hold back a bit. I didn't even need to tell her. It was kind of beautiful, communicating like that without saying a word.

When that scene was done, we moved into the control room, and Charlotte got the monitor set up in the sound booth. We had to go through several key moments that Sheila had marked on her script where the audio was no good, and we added moans, gasps, cries of ecstasy, whimpers of release, and even an occasional well-fucked scream or two. That part Charlotte took care of. The loudest I got was a long ecstatic moan.

Sheila wasn't getting the feeling she wanted out of us though. She kept stopping us and telling us we sounded phony.

"You sound like you're recording moans for a voice-over!"

"We are recording moans for a voice-over."

"But you're suppose to sound like you're having sex, spontaneous, excited, enthralled, driven to screaming by the very ecstasy your lover is sharing with you!"

"She's right, Anthony. I know exactly what she's talking about. If it doesn't sound exactly perfect it'll bring the whole production down. It'll bring the audience right out of the story. It's gotta be just right."

"What audience?" I said.

"It's gotta be perfect!" Sheila said, ignoring my question. "Now hurry up and get in the mood, we're running out of time!"

I took Charlotte's face in my hands and looked her in the eyes.

"Listen, Char. Do we really need to be coached at this? This is us, we're talking about. We rock. Let's just remember how gorgeous and sexy each other is and moan like it's happening right now."

Charlotte nodded, staring into my eyes in a glassy daze.

"Ready when you are, She," I said. The scene on the monitor sprang to life. Charlotte turned to watch her mouth and let out such beautiful cries and grunts and panting screams that I almost went weak from listening to her. She hollered them out exactly when the Movie-Charlotte's mouth opened wider as well. It looked perfect. I panted right along with her. It was awesome. Sheila gave us the OK sign with her fingers behind the sound booth window, grinning at the monitor in the control room, nodding her head excitedly, and then shaking her fists victoriously when we perfected the ending. Steve looked on in quiet concentration. He was a little red in the face though.

Charlotte and I ended our sound booth fuck with a kiss, right along with our movie selves and Sheila cut. She fast forwarded to another scene, a blow job scene, and Charlotte hopped off the stool and knelt in front of me, sucking my cock into her mouth once again and bobbing enthusiastically on me as I watched the monitor with surreal wonder, feeling all the same pleasures the young man on the screen was feeling, the young man who was apparently me. It looked weird to watch myself getting a blow job on TV and feel it at the exact same time. I looked awesome. Somehow Sheila had made me god-like. It didn't even look like me.

None of us really see the beauty in ourselves that others see, Sheila had said. We hear people rave about us and we think they're talking about someone else.

Truer words were never spoken. I understood them more than ever now.

Charlotte sped up when the onscreen Anthony approached his orgasm. I felt the ecstasy of her increased speed and suction, but was not really anywhere near coming. It just felt really hot and sweet and gorgeous in every inch of me. She noticed I wasn't quite there yet, once again without me even saying anything, and she looked away from the monitor, up into my eyes. She gave me a smile with her eyes, and a beautiful little wink. It suddenly hit me right then and there that an extremely gorgeous young woman, possibly the most beautiful girl I've ever known, or ever would know, was sucking eagerly on my cock. That did it for me. My legs trembled, my body shook. I released such a piteous cry of love, ecstasy, adoration, and appreciation that I swear I saw tears in Charlotte's eyes.

Neither of us had been watching the monitor though. We'd been watching each other. Was the timing right? Did the intensity match? I stood there on shaking legs wondering.

Sheila got up slowly from her chair, backed away from the control panel and poked her head into the sound booth.

"I think we're done."

"We're done? Really?"

"I think so. As far as I know. I've got a ton of work left to do, but I think you guys are done. As they say in Hollywood, that's a wrap."

Exhausted, relieved, and feeling triumphant, Charlotte and I breathed a shared sigh, long and slow from the bottom of our beings. I hugged her.

"We're done, baby," she said. "We're done."

It was a bittersweet moment. It passed slowly. I was happy. Except for another day or so of editing, we were done.

It was almost 3:30.

I got into the shower while Charlotte insisted on seeing how the voices matched up with the video. Steve headed upstairs to get a snack. I stood in the steamy spray of refreshing water, rinsing all the sweat and sex off of me. I turned and rested my head against the wall while the spray massaged my tired muscles. I turned again and let the spray hit my face. Finally it dawned on me. We were really done. It was all over but the editing.

I shut off the water and got myself dressed again. I'd been naked all day so my clothes were still clean. When I came out, Charlotte was standing there hugging Sheila with tears flowing down her face. She was sobbing like a lost child who had found her mommy or something. Sheila looked up at me and gave a little shrug.

"You okay?" I asked.

Charlotte just kept on crying. Sheila stood there, holding the beautifully naked girl, and just let her weep.

"I'm just so happy it's finished," Charlotte said. "I can't believe it. I love you guys. I've never been so happy my entire life."

"It's not finished yet, Char," Sheila said. "I've got the whole damn thing to edit yet, but I think I can be done by Sunday morning."

"You don't really have much choice. Mom and dad are back Sunday afternoon."

"I'll be done. Even if I have to stay up for the next 48 hours."

"Steve can help too, can't he?"

"He can, but I don't really want his help. He keeps suggesting things that are really stupid. Use a close up shot, right on Charlotte's eyeball, just as she comes. Yeah right. As if."

"Come on, She. You gotta admit he's done some phenomenal work here this week. We couldn't have done it without him."

"It would have taken longer, but we probably could have."

"We got it done in the time we had, thanks to him," Charlotte said. "And the poor guy was so professional about it all. He's gotta have the bluest balls this side of the Northern Hemisphere right now."

"Maybe one of you should help him out," I suggested.

"Ew! No! As if!" Sheila said. Apparently she wasn't as impressed with his professionalism as Char and I were. "It's Charlotte he really wants anyway."

"I don't really wanna do him either," Charlotte sighed. "Cologne or no cologne, I'm still not really all that attracted to him. I appreciate his help and all, but that wheezing little noise he makes when he's coming makes my skin crawl."

"Whatever happened to every new guy being an exciting new adventure?" I asked her.

"Not all adventures are good adventures," she said. "He's gonna have to look elsewhere."

I felt kind of bad for him when they said that. He really had been almost heroic in his restraint through all of this and he deserved at least a blow job My first thought was that the girls were just being mean. But then when I thought about it for a moment, I realized that if I was a woman, I wouldn't wanna sleep with him either. I knew exactly what they were talking about. He was kind of creepy.

"I gotta go wash up," Charlotte said.

"I gotta go get some lunch," I added.

"I gotta get to work," Sheila threw in, completing the dialog, and the three of us parted ways.

Charlotte stepped into the shower, rubbing the little smack on the ass I gave her as she walked in front of me to the downstairs bathroom. I headed upstairs and dug into the fridge. There were sandwiches on a plastic-wrapped platter from the night before. I pulled the whole thing out and slapped it down on the table. Then I grabbed a few bottles of juice.

"That's a wrap," I muttered to myself chowing into half a pastrami on rye.

I stopped mid chew though. There in front of me, on the counter was a half-eaten sandwich and a half-finished glass of milk. Steve was nowhere to be seen.

The fact that he was gone wasn't what bothered me. My first thought was that he was up in the upstairs bathroom. That thought died however when I realized where his sandwich and milk were sitting on the counter. Right beside the intercom connected to the studio downstairs.

Steve had heard every word the girls had said about him, and now he was gone.



-------

Chapter 25: Interloper


"It's a damn good thing we're done already," Sheila said, biting into a sandwich she plucked off the tray from among the dozen or so triangles of bread and meat that were there. I gave her a bottle of juice too and popped off the top for her. She took it and swigged it back. She didn't seem to care at all that she'd made an enemy of Steve Henridge.

"Don't you think you're being a little cold after all the help he's given us?"

"Nope."

She took another bite of her sandwich and clicked a few buttons on the computer.

"No?"

I was honestly confused. Sheila was usually a pretty decent person, or at the very least intelligent. But here she'd insulted and humiliated someone who we'd considered a friend and confidante the past few days and she wasn't worried at all. He had information that could hang us all but she didn't seem bothered in the slightest.

"First of all, Anthony, we don't owe him a goddamn thing. Even being here this past week was a privilege other guys would have paid for."

She clicked a few more buttons.

"And second?"

I honestly wanted to know how she could be so calm.

"Second, he's scared shitless of all of us. If he rats on us, if word gets out about any of this and his mom finds out? Well, let's just say there's a reason why little Stevie Henridge is as socially inept as he is. His mom would castrate him, and probably make him eat his own nuts. Sure she'd make our lives a living hell, but he'd get it the worst from her."

"And you know this because?"

"Because he told me."

"Told you what?"

"The reason he had to take off last night when he did, even though I still needed more help, was because he had some church thing to go to with mommy. Imagine that. The poor kid sitting in church all evening after watching you and Charlotte fucking and sucking all day."

"I had no idea."

"Well you can sort of tell, right? He's very awkward around girls. He's so scared and shy and clumsy and creepy. The kid probably thinks he's going to hell even for talking to Charlotte. So yeah, if he says anything about this he'll probably be shipped off to some Bible Camp in backwoods Arkansas or some shit like that. He kept on joking about it while we were down here, whether or not that would be worse than simply killing himself and going to hell. He's so fuckin' creepy, that kid."

"I hope he doesn't kill himself. That would suck."

"He won't," Sheila said with so much confidence I was immediately relieved. I still felt bad though. He was just starting to come out of his shell a bit and now the two of them and crushed his budding ego like a wriggling insect.

Charlotte came out of the shower, tousling her hair with a towel. Other than that she was completely, shamelessly naked. Wow. I completely forgot about Steve for a moment. She was dripping wet, glowing from the heat of the shower, and jiggling everywhere as she walked up.

"Amy should be back soon," she said. "We should do something fun with her. What should we do?"

"Steve's gone," I said.

"Gone?"

"Yeah. Um, apparently he heard what you and Sheila said about him. He was upstairs listening on the intercom."

Charlotte winced as though she'd just seen someone run over by a truck. Her fingers went to her mouth. Her eyes widened.

"He's gone?"

She turned and ran upstairs as though she didn't believe me. I followed. There on the counter by the intercom was his half-eaten sandwich and milk.

"I assume he heard you guys. He was sitting right there by the intercom, and he left without saying goodbye. What else could it be?"

"Damn!" Charlotte said in a low whisper. "Me and my big mouth!"

"Sheila's pretty sure he's not gonna tell anyone. She says he comes from some religious family that would kill him if they found out-"

"I gotta call him!"

She ran upstairs and grabbed his phone number from a little phone book on her dresser. I of course was right behind her.

"I don't care if he never tells anyone. I don't want him going away thinking I'm some sort of bitch. Thinking I just used him and tossed him away like an old shoe. I'm not like that."

Neither was I. This was why I suggested one of them at least blow him or something, in appreciation.

"Steve? Is Steve there, please? Can I speak to him? Yes."

She paced back and forth, naked, still damp, still making me incredibly hard, in spite of the stress.

"Steve! Oh my god! Why did you leave, sweetie?"

She listened. Her face wrinkled into a pained frown that was so freakin' cute it made me want to push her down on the bed and fuck her right then and there.

"I know. I know, baby, and I just wanted to say sorry. I don't feel that way about you at all. No! Honest, I don't! I'm so grateful for your help. I really am, and I feel like such a bitch for not saying so."

She cringed as though he'd slapped her with an invisible hand.

"You're right, Steve, and I can't take back what I said, but I can promise you I don't really feel that way. If you come back here right now, I swear to god I'll make it up to you. I'll prove to you that I just said those things out of tiredness and stress. I really am so very grateful for your help."

He didn't say anything.

"Steve?"

Still silent.

"Will you come down here again?"

He mumbled something.

"What? I didn't hear you."

He said it louder.

"Come on! Don't be that way, sweetie. Look, if you don't want to be with me that way, at least come down. I'll pay you for your help, okay? Just let me prove to you that I'm grateful, somehow."

"I don't want your fucking money, Charlotte!" I heard him yell. She pulled the phone away from her ear and shivered.

"What do you want then? I'll do anything."

He was silent again, and Charlotte let him think without saying anything. For some reason, she grabbed my hand and placed it on her pussy. I slid my fingers into her crevice and found her soaking wet. Holy shit! She was really serious about wanting to make it up to him. If only he knew. She took my hand and masturbated herself with her fingers.

He mumbled something else to her.

"I know you're upset. I know you're hurt. I'm sorry. Just come down here, okay? I'll make you feel all better."

She was cooing a bit now, a sultry little lilt in her tone.

"No, Anthony's right here. He doesn't mind at all. In fact, he's the one who suggested this. You heard him, right?"

I took the phone from her.

"Dude, just get down here, man. Don't be like that. It's not the first time chicks have said that kind of shit about you and it won't be the last. At least Charlotte's apologizing. How many times has a chick ever apologized for making you feel like shit?"

"Never," he said. His voice was calm and cold.

"Exactly. So get down here. I'll leave you two alone and let her do whatever she has in mind to make it up to you. Are you really gonna say no, man?"

"I'm just sick of the bullshit, Anthony. It never stops. I can't even stand women anymore. They're all fuckin' bitches, unless you're a hot guy with a sweet ride or a big dick."

I couldn't really argue with him there. There are a hell of a lot of shallow women out there. Some of them even freely admit it. But no one can really control who they're attracted to. I didn't know what to tell him. All I knew was that Charlotte wasn't like that.

"Maybe you're right, but you and I both know that Charlotte's not like that. She's one of the good ones. She could be with anyone in the country if she wanted to, but somehow she's with me. I don't understand it. I'm just an ordinary high school kid. I'm not rich or hunky, or even popular. I'm just me. And somehow she's in love with me. I'm not gonna argue with her about it. I'm just gonna enjoy it, and be as lovable as I can. That's all anyone can do."

"It's not fair," he said, and he said it with a finality that seemed to sum up love and romance for half the world.

"Is anything ever fair, Steve? Seriously! You could walk out your door and be mowed down by a truck in the next ten minutes. Is that fair? No, but it happens all the time. Quit worrying about what's fair, what's decent, what's right and wrong, and just enjoy life, man. Enjoy it while you're still alive."

"You don't know what it's like."

I laughed at him.

"You think I don't know what it's like to be picked on, ignored, to be treated like a freak? How long have you known me, man?"

He didn't answer.

"We've known each other for years, Steve, and in all that time, how many girlfriends have I had? I can count them all on one hand. And every single one of them was a fluke. I'm not special. I'm not magical. I'm not blessed. I'm just me. Some girls like that. Some girls couldn't care less, and some girls hate it. I'm not gonna change who I am, though. I just gotta believe that the people worth caring about, like me for who I am. And if they don't, fuck 'em."

Charlotte was lying on the bed, staring at me, playing with her pussy with a glazed look in her eyes, just watching me talk to Steve. It was very distracting.

"I don't know what else to say, man. If you're pissed off about this, if you're gonna be a sad, bitter little man and stew and hold grudges and shit, that's your choice. But if you wanna be happy, you gotta just let shit like that go. Be cool about it. Come fuck Charlotte, man. She's lying on the bed here with her legs open, playing with herself. If you don't get down here, I'm gonna do it for you. Damn is she sexy. She just got out of the shower, and she's all damp and slippery. She's awesome and she promised you anything."

"Why, though?"

"Why what?"

"Why did she promise me anything?"

"Because she wants to make it up to you, to show you how grateful she is for your help."

"Bullshit. She feels bad for hurting poor little Stevie's feelings and she wants to put a band-aid on her conscience. She couldn't care less about me."

I didn't know what to say. In all honesty I couldn't convince myself that he was wrong. If I couldn't convince myself, how could I convince him?

"So you're gonna let your wounded pride trick you out of what could very well be the greatest piece of pretty blond pussy you've ever had in your life, or ever will have?"

He was silent. I could tell he was struggling.

"She doesn't even really want me though. I might as well just stay home and masturbate. How am I supposed to enjoy anything with her knowing she thinks I'm creepy and can't stand to be in the same room with me except when she wants something from me?"

Ouch again. Another very good point. I covered the phone and told her what he said. She grabbed the phone from me.

"Stevie. I'm so fucking horny right now I couldn't care less if you had two heads, alight? You have a dick, and it gets nice and hard. I've seen it for myself. I want it. I want it inside me. I want it to make me come. If you never talk to me again after that, I don't care. As long as I can say I tried to be a friend to you. But please don't throw this back in my face. It'll really hurt me."

"Charlotte!?" someone yelled from downstairs. It was a girl. It wasn't Amy though, and it wasn't Janine. The voice was deeper, sexier.

"Go see who that is!" Charlotte said, covering the phone.

I went, running to the second floor railing that overlooked the foyer. There in the doorway, looking so fuckin' hot it was almost scary, in knee-high fuck boots, a dark denim miniskirt and a black, lacy-looking bra that barely contained her eagerly protruding breasts, was Jade, Charlotte's lifelong friend.

"Andy!" she said, apparently too excited to even get my name right. "Where's Charlotte!?"

"She's upstairs here."

"Well tell her to get her sweet little ass down here! She has got to meet my new boyfriend!"

"I'll let her know. Hold on."

I went back into the bedroom. Charlotte was wrapping up the phone call with Steve, still playing with her pussy.

"Okay, well, we might have some people over later, after the dance. Will you come see me then? I'll do you right in front of everyone if I have to just to prove to you, and everyone else in the school that there really is a sweet, sexy, smart, and funny guy there under all that shyness and awkwardness Will you come?"

He answered.

"Well, think hard, my boy. I will not disappoint."

He replied.

"Have a good day. You too. Bye-bye."

"It's Jade," I told her. "She's apparently got a new boyfriend or something."

"Jade's here!?"

She jumped off the bed and ran down the stairs. I followed.

"Jay-lay!"

"Char-slut!"

Apparently it was an inside joke. They hugged, bouncing up and down as they did. I smiled. You never saw two more beautiful young women pressing flesh together in all your life. And Charlotte wearing only a towel, not very well positioned on her ample curves I might add.

"You remember Anthony, of course?"

"Oh, Anthony! Yes, of course! He keeping you pumped to F on the cum gauge?"

"It'd be coming out my ears if I were any fuller."

I smiled as Jade looked me up and down and gave me a thrust of her eyebrows.

"Oh, yes. I remember now. The guy in the truck — hung like a young mule."

Her ass swayed deliciously as she turned on her feet to face Charlotte again.

"You've got to meet Vincenzo though. Come on!"

"Vincenzo?" Char asked, but she was being pulled out the front door. "I'm only in a towel, Jade! Who is he?"

She giggled and allowed herself to be pulled out the door.

I followed.

There was a black car in the driveway. A dark young man sat in the driver's seat, looking bored and sexy, like a king, trying to decide which of his harem he would bed that night. But when he saw Charlotte, he got out of his car and approached her.

He was big. Tall, broad-shouldered, muscular — even his jaw was wide. Charlotte paused in her stride, adjusting her towel, catching her breath.

"Charlotte, this is Vincenzo. Vincenzo, Charlotte. She's the one I was telling you about."

"Ah, yes. She's as beautiful as you said she was."

Charlotte blushed. He was big and handsome and suddenly she looked like a twelve year-old girl in front of her first crush. I walked up behind her, standing back a few feet, not knowing what to make of all this. I knew that my guts were burning though. I kept myself calm.

"And this is her friend, Anthony," Jade said.

Friend? Something was fishy here. She knew damn well I was Charlotte's boyfriend. Why wasn't she saying so to this guy?

Vincenzo nodded at me like I was a department store mannequin modeling clothes he wasn't interested in. Then he turned back to Charlotte. He took her hand and held it out to one side, looking her up and down.

"Very pleased to meet you," he said.

"Likewise," my girlfriend replied, blushing giggling like a star struck little girl, a star struck little girl with the shapely figure of a fantastically hot young woman, wearing only a towel no less.

"Who's that?" Jade asked, turning to the front door. It was Sheila. I didn't like Jade's tone. She referred to Sheila like she was hired help or something.

"Oh, that's my friend, Sheila. We were just hanging out. Come on inside, guys. I have got to get something on."

The three of them strode across the lawn. Sheila stepped aside and they walked passed her without a word, going into the house.

"Hello, to you too," Sheila said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"That's Jade, Charlotte's life-long friend, and Vincenzo, " I told her, saying his name with a fair share of haughty sarcasm of my own.

"Can the guy be any more full of himself?" Sheila asked. It was amazing how quickly she picked up on that, after seeing him for only 20 seconds or so as he walked passed.

"No kidding."

Suddenly I felt like a wriggling little insect, crushed under Jade's boot heel as she positioned Charlotte for a sexy little threesome with her and her new man. As hard as I tried to fight off that notion, Charlotte didn't seem to be in too much of a hurry to include me in their company. Of course it had only been two minutes since she'd met the guy. It may have been just my imagination.

"Anthony I gotta go home for a while. Can you drive me?"

I looked anxiously at the door. The last thing I wanted to do was leave Charlotte alone with this guy. Sheila of course, noticed my anxiety.

"Come on, don't get your panties in a bunch, little boy. If she's gonna screw the guy, she'll find a way to do it whether you're here or not. Let's go."

She pulled me by the arm toward my truck.

"Hold on. I gotta tell Charlotte I'm leaving."

I pulled away and went in. Jade and Vincenzo were sitting on the couch across from the big screen TV, pointing at Charlotte's mom on the wall and whispering. I went past them and headed upstairs.

Charlotte was dressing, pulling something sexy out of the pile she'd made on the floor the night before.

"Anthony!" she said, with a nervous giggle. "Aren't they cool? It's so nice to see Jade again, isn't it?"

Giggle, giggle.

"I suppose it would be a lot cooler if they actually talked to me instead of at me."

Giggle, giggle.

"And I suppose it would be cooler if they weren't both eyeing you up like a cum-receptacle on two legs."

Giggle, giggle.

"Oh, Anthony, stop! It's not like that."

And she pulled on a mini-skirt. My guts turned over like someone was stoking the fire inside me.

"Amy should be home any minute now. Can you tell her I just went to drive Sheila home?"

Giggle, giggle. She scanned the racks for a top.

"Charlotte?"

"Yes?"

"Can you tell Amy I went to drive Sheila home. I'll be back in a while."

"Oh, sure," she said, not even looking at me.

"I'll take her somewhere and do something fun while you guys have your threesome."

Giggle, giggle. "What?"

"Nothing," I said. "Have fun."

It took all my strength and will power to walk out the door, but I did it. In a way, I think I wanted to prove to myself that Charlotte couldn't be trusted. Every sign was pointing to the fact that she'd completely forgotten about me in the past five minutes since she'd gotten off the phone with Steve, and now she was moving on to the kind of guy I always told myself she ought to be with rather than me. I guess maybe part of me wanted it to be true, no matter how much it hurt. At least then I wouldn't have to worry anymore.



-------

Chapter 26: Awakening


Sheila was quiet on the way to her house, and so was I. She stared out the window, lost in her own thoughts. I drove, imagining her going down on that guy, wrestling for mouth space with Jade on the length of his cock while he sat there like he owned them. My teeth were grinding.

She wouldn't do that with Amy due home at any minute though, would she? No. She may be Charlotte, the school slut, but even she wasn't that low. I decided my girlfriend was safe for the time being.

But why, oh why did I have to fall in love with the school slut in the first place? It was hitting me now that she was not going to change, and I shouldn't really expect her too. She was fun, and free, and loved fucking for the sake of fucking. How could I be mad at her simply for being who she was?

Because she'd told me she didn't want anyone else. She told me I was the only guy she'd ever need. She'd told me she loved me, and that she'd never loved anyone before. She'd told me that I could trust her to honor me and respect me, the way her mom honors and respects her father. And I'd believed her. But the far-away look in her eyes, and the giggling, and the clothes she chosen told me otherwise. There was a side to Charlotte that I didn't know at all.

And she'd been masturbating like a fiend while I talked with Steve on the phone. She was horny as hell. Why in god's name had I left her? Ouch!

Still, how can she give herself to someone so cheesy like that? Couldn't she see it? She was smarter than that, wasn't she?

Maybe she wasn't. Maybe, no matter how much I wanted her to be the Charlotte I saw in my mind, the loving, loyal, sweet Charlotte, she would never become that. Maybe it was all an illusion. Maybe the dream was over. Maybe it had never even really begun. Maybe it was all just wishful thinking, on both of our parts. Maybe we were through.

There was a lump in my throat. I was almost crying by the time I got to Sheila's.

"You want me to wait for you? How long you gonna be."

"What do you think you're gonna find if you go back there?" she asked me.

"I think I'm gonna find Charlotte being Charlotte. I'd be silly to expect her to be anything else."

"Glad you realize that, Anthony. Do what you gotta do. Mom's not feeling well. She wanted me to clean up a bit. Call me in a couple hours, okay?"

"I will."

She looked at me through the passenger side window. I waited for her to go so I could drive away and cry.

"Sometimes you gotta love someone for who they are, no matter how much they hurt you, no matter how much they disappoint you when you believe in them, no matter how blind and stupid they are. Sometimes you can't help it no matter how hard you try."

She was right too. A tear spilled down my face. It was on the driver's side though, so she didn't see it. She was right though. I loved Charlotte for who she was, even though it killed me inside to do so. But I had about as much choice in the matter as I did if I were to argue with gravity. I loved Charlotte, and I always would. I was blind and stupid.

It was this blindness and stupidness that made me, when I drove away, go back to my place instead of returning to Charlotte's. I didn't want to walk in and see her on her knees sucking some other guy's cock. I didn't want to catch her bent over the coffee table with this guy's dick ploughing up into her. But mostly I didn't want to see his face as I walked into the room, the dismissive look, the cocky little smirk on his face that completely emasculated me without saying a single word. I didn't want to see the hand prints on her ass where he'd smacked her, or see the drunken, lustful, lost look in her eyes when a hard smack on the ass sent all coherent thought on vacation. I didn't want to see her enjoying a nice big cock that wasn't mine, pleasing her, making her wriggle and moan and forget I even exist.

Part of me, most strangely of all, didn't even want her to remember that I existed. Part of me, didn't want her to feel bad for simply being who she was. I loved who she was, though it killed me inside, and all I could do was run around in circles inside my head, trying to ignore what I knew was true: Charlotte was cheating on me, and thoroughly enjoying it. And why shouldn't she? I didn't own her. I didn't even deserve her. She owes me nothing. Maybe we could still be friends. Maybe she'd let me snuggle her once in a while in between her hot college guys like Vincenzo, so I could pretend that it all wasn't just a beautiful dream.

That's when I broke down crying for real. Hard and deep. My whole body shook with it. I pulled into my driveway and just let it all out, marveling at how only twenty minutes ago I was telling Steve how I would enjoy the beautiful experience for as long as I could, little realizing that it would be over within minutes.

And it was over, I decided. It had to be. I wouldn't have been crying so hard if it wasn't. Part of me was trying to let go, trying to heal, trying to wake up from the dream. I cried like a little boy for over ten minutes until finally winding down to sad little sighs. I opened my eyes and realized that I was lying on the seat of my truck. The engine was still running. I don't even remember lying down, but there I was.

"Time to move on, old boy," I told myself. "You had a good run, but you gotta let Charlotte be Charlotte. You gotta let her go."

I sighed sadly again. I got up and went into the house. Mom wasn't home. The phone was ringing.

"Anthony, it's Mick."

"Hi, Mick," I said.

"You okay, man? You sound like shit."

"I'm alright," I lied. "What's up?"

"I'm here at the mall with Amy and Janine. My car won't start. Can you come down and bring me some gas?"

"How'd you know I was here?"

"Sheila told me."

"How'd you know Sheila was at her house?"

"Charlotte told me you drove her home."

(How did Sheila know I'd come home instead of going to Charlotte's? That girl was psychic, I swear.)

"Anthony? You there?"

"Yeah. Sorry."

"I called Charlotte and she said she couldn't leave to pick up Amy because she had company over. Who's down there, man, that she can't come get her own sister? Weird. Anyway, she told me to call you."

If I needed any more evidence of what was going on at the Lawsen residence, that was it. I still didn't want to believe it though.

"I'll be down there in a bit, Mick. I'll get some gas and I'll drive Amy home."

"The movie all done?"

"Yeah. Just some editing left."

"You okay, man? You seriously sound like shit."

"Charlotte's just being Charlotte," I said in a daze. "Everything's gonna be just fine."

"Alright, man. I'll see you soon."

He didn't sound like he believed me. I didn't believe me either. I sat on my couch, still dazed for a few more minutes, trying to remember if my gas can was in the garage or the basement with cum all over Charlotte's face as Jade sucked on her nipples. I was pretty sure it was in the garage because that's where I would have left it the last time I'd used it with Jade sitting on Charlotte's face as that big ugly cock speared in and out of her, making her writhe and moan and maybe the gas can still even had some gas in it. Maybe I wouldn't even have to fill it up as Charlotte bounced on his dick until he spewed deep inside her, releasing his seed into the beautiful slurping pussy that was once mine. I could even smell it for god's sake! The smell of her sopping wet pussy was-

Still on my finger! I held it to my nose, remembering suddenly that I'd been feeling her up while she was on the phone with Steve. The rich, sexy smell of her arousal was all over my hand in fact. The scent of it simultaneously aroused me and repulsed me. I got a hard on, but I almost gagged at the same time. Vincenzo was smelling that same smell at that very moment. Sliding his cock in and-

The phone rang, snapping me out of my daze again.

"Anthony?"

"Steve?"

"Yeah."

"What's up?"

"Um, I just wanted to tell you, I just came back from Charlotte's place. I guess I just wanted to take her up on that offer she gave me. But when I got there. There was this guy..."

"Yeah?"

"I didn't see anything. They were in the bedroom upstairs, but I heard it. A guy and another girl. I don't know who they were, but it wasn't you and it wasn't Sheila. Sheila wasn't even there either."

"I know. I dropped her off at home."

"Anyway. I just wanted to tell you that, cause, like, we're friends, right?"

"Of course, man."

"You alright?"

"I'm okay."

"Are you gonna go down there and kick his ass or what?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Cause Charlotte's not mine."

Steve paused, pondering.

"Oh..." he said. "Well, I just thought I'd tell you. She's in bed right at this very moment with some other guy. That's fucked up man. She's got no respect for you at all."

Once again, though I wanted to with all my heart, I couldn't argue with him. Charlotte was pleasuring a man who couldn't even bring himself to give her boyfriend a proper hello. Everything we'd been through the past couple weeks was all bullshit.

"I gotta go, Anthony. I'm gonna go out to that dance tonight, at school. Take my mind off shit. You gonna go?"

"Sure thing," I said, trying not to sound like my soul had been torn from my flesh and shredded right before my eyes. I was doing a pretty good job of it too.

"Cool. I'll see you there."

"Right on, Steve."

"Anthony?"

"What's up, man?"

"Sheila still gonna finish the movie?"

"I don't know. Up to her I guess. And Charlotte."

"Something else too, Anthony."

"What's that?"

"What you said about not worrying about what's fair and right, and just enjoying life while I'm still alive — that was awesome, man. It means a lot to me. I just wanted to say thanks, I guess."

"What's fair and right may be comfortable, but it doesn't make you stronger in the end."

"Damn straight, man. I'll remember that."

"Me too."

I don't know where it came from but it spilled off my tongue like a jewel out of a treasure chest I didn't even know was there.

"Alright. Bye."

"Later, man."

I got up, went to the washroom, and washed my hands. The act had a certain symbolic feel to it, as though I was washing my hands of Charlotte. I splashed water on my face as well, and then, just for good measure, I brushed my teeth. I dried my hands with a hand towel and sniffed again. The Charlotte smell was gone.

I got the half-full gas can from my garage and headed to the mall.

Still dazed. Dazed all the way there. I don't even remember how I got there. I was on full autopilot. It was Amy who snapped me out of it. When I pulled up beside Steve's car and the three of them saw me coming, Amy's face lit up into the most beautiful smile I've ever seen.

Amy's mom was dying of cancer, and she still found a reason to smile. That reason was me. I suddenly felt like crying again, this time from gratitude and joy. I suddenly felt like I wasn't shit scraped off of the bottom of someone's shoe and tossed away. I suddenly felt like I mattered again. I didn't cry of course, but the feeling was there. Instead I got out of the truck and opened my arms when Amy came up to give me a hug.

"My god, you look like you got the shit beat out of you, man!" Janine said.

"I've been better."

"So have I," Mick said. He had uncapped the gas can, flipped the plastic nozzle around and screwed it on, and now he was dumping its contents into his car. "Shopping all damn day with two giddy girls, and then I come out here and my car's dead. But you! You look like your best friend died or something. What the hell, man?"

I shrugged. They shrugged as well. Amy danced in place, staring around at the city. Mick tapped the last few drops out of the can and closed it up again.

"Thanks, man. You're a lifesaver."

"No problem."

"We all heading back to Charlotte's now?" Janine asked.

I shook my head. No, I couldn't possibly bring Amy back there now, not while her sister was carrying on like the queen of sluts with some guy she'd only met half an hour ago.

"Is everything done?" Janine asked with a knowing nod.

"Everything's done alright," I said.

"What do you mean, Anthony?" Janine asked, picking up on my double meaning.

"I can't talk about it right now. We'll talk at the dance later."

"There's a dance!?" Amy said. Her face lit up again, with an odd combination of excitement and dread, the kind you only see in a young girl who's new in town and doesn't know a single soul, but wants to know everyone.

"Oh my god! You have to go," Janine said. "You can wear the kitty hoody you bought!"

"Merrrrow!" Amy said, flashing her claws at her. She was as giddy as I'd ever seen her. She had at least three overflowing shopping bags in each hand and she was as happy as a young girl could be. She was in such a good mood in fact that I dreaded going anywhere near the Lawsen place.

"You wanna go to the dance, Aims?" I said.

"I don't even know anyone!"

"Come on. You can be my girl. I'll take you."

She suppressed an all-consuming grin at that notion, and simply nodded. Her blush and the twinkle in her eye said it all though. She really did have a crush on me. Cute.

"I'll bring her over to my house, Janine. She can wear the new clothes she bought today."

"What about Charlotte?" Amy asked, loading her shopping bags into the cab of my truck.

"We'll catch up with her later. She's got some old friends visiting. People she hasn't seen in a while. You can hang out at my place for a while. We'll meet up with her at the dance."

"Super!" Amy said, jumping up into the truck. She shut the door.

"The radio's right there. Find a good station for us," I said.

She looked down and fiddled with the knobs. Music came on, then static, then more music.

"What's going on, Anthony?" Janine asked. "Did you and Charlotte get in a fight or something?"

"Not really," I said.

"So what the fuck? You're not taking Amy back to her place? What's going on?"

"She has company," I said, making finger quotes in the air.

"Company?" Janine said. Her brow furrowed. Her mouth dropped into a pouting frown. Suddenly I had the urge to kiss her. Suddenly I felt like I loved her desperately — Janine Best, Mick's girl. Weird.

Amy found a station she liked and started wriggling in her seat, bopping up and down and mumbling the words to herself.

"Anthony? What company?"

"Her friend Jade, brought some guy over. Soon as he got there, Charlotte started acting like I didn't even exist. Me and Sheila left. And then Steve phones me up, says he went back there and she was in bed with Jade and this guy. She just met him like twenty minutes before. I don't want to bring Amy over there right now."

"Shit, man. Holy shit," Mick said. He was looking at me like I had a sword through my torso that he wasn't sure how to remove. I kinda felt like that at the moment. I guess he picked up on it.

"Yeah. I'm not really surprised though, you know. Charlotte's just being Charlotte. I hoped things would be different, but in a way I don't really want her to change. It's weird."

Janine and Mick looked at me, concerned. I knew that they knew I'd been crying, and I loved them for it.

Amy honked the horn, hurrying me.

"I'll be right there, Aims! Keep dancin'! So anyway, I guess I'm gonna try to let her go. I hope we can at least still be friends."

"This is so fucked up, Anthony! She was raving about you all week! Going on and on and on about how wonderful she feels about being with you, making this movie, being in love for the first time."

I felt another lump in my throat. My lip quivered. I swallowed. I sniffed.

"She's just stressed, I think. This whole Amy thing, and the worries about life and love ... and Steve took off. He overheard the girls talking trash about him over the intercom, so I guess Charlotte felt shitty about that too. And when she starts feeling insecure, the slutty side comes out. That's how she deals with it I guess. It's not right, but it's her."

HONK! HONK!

"I better go," I said.

Janine rushed up and hugged me hard.

"You're so super awesome, Anthony! Don't you feel for a moment that you're not the most wonderful guy on earth. She's just messed up and can't see that-"

"I don't hate her or anything. I just-"

HONNNNNNK!

"I gotta go."

And I went. I hopped in the truck, putting on my brave face for Amy.

"I'll see you guys at the dance."

"I'll call Charlotte," Janine said. "See what's what."

"Sure."

And off we went.



-------

Chapter 27: Love Lines


We drove the first part of the distance in silence, about half a song's worth. Amy broke it with a blurting statement that just about drove me off the road.

"I bought sexy panties!" she said.

My hand slipped off the wheel and I swerved a bit, just about driving over the dividing line. Amy giggled.

"I did! They're black and frilly and pretty. I look kinda hot in them. My butt looks kinda big, but Janine says that's a good thing. Guys like nice butts."

She giggled again.

"I like Janine," she continued. "We're gonna go shopping again next week. And see a movie. She's so cool."

"I like Janine too," I said. "She's the Best."

Amy didn't get the joke. Apparently she didn't know Janine's last name.

"She is the best! Except she kept kissing Mick every eighteen seconds and telling me how yummy he tastes and how sexy his tongue feels in her mouth and all that. It was sooooo-"

"Gross?"

"Yeah!"

"This from a girl who bought sexy panties and couldn't wait to tell me all about it."

She blushed cutely. For a moment I trailed off in my thoughts, imagining Charlotte kissing Vincenzo, but Amy, god bless her, snapped me out of it almost immediately.

"Is your school big? How many people will be at the dance?"

"Our school is big. It's grades nine to twelve. There's always like a thousand kids there when there's a dance. They get security guards and everything. Someone's always getting a blow job under the bleachers, or passing a bottle around, or getting in a fight, or smoking, or some shit like that. It's nutty. But fun."

"The dances at my school are baby stuff. There's like more teachers and parents than kids, and they won't even play the sexy songs. It's still kinda fun though. Big booming music and everyone screaming when their favorite songs come on. Everyone asking someone they like to dance, and everyone whispering about who likes who and running to the bathroom to get someone to find out if so n' so likes her more than a friend. It's awesome."

"It's still like that, 'cept in high school it's more about who's gonna go all the way after the dance is over, and which guy felt up a girl's pussy right on the dance floor. Stuff like that."

"Ew. Right on the dance floor?"

"Sometimes."

"Nasty!"

"Not when it's happening to you."

That shut her up. I assume she was picturing it.

"So anyway, I'll keep a close eye on you tonight," I said. "I won't let anyone feel up your pussy on the dance floor or anything."

"As if!"

"Just teasing."

But she squirmed a bit in her seat.

"So who's over at Charlotte's place anyway?" Amy asked, breaking another short silence as her mind raced a mile-a-minute.

"She's got an old friend over there who she hasn't seen in a long time. She wanted to spend time with her."

"But she's coming to the dance later?"

"I'm sure she'll be there," I said, though I dreaded the thought of having to face her, especially in front of everyone.

"Cool! I wanna show her my new clothes. I got some stuff with color in it and everything."

"I'm sure she'll like the panties too."

"I'm sure you'll like them too."

I laughed, shocked at her sudden bluntness. She'd apparently blurted it out without meaning to. She blushed six shades of scarlet and covered her face in her hands with a double slap on her cheeks.

"I'm sure I will, Aims," I said. "I'm sure you look awesome in them."

Then there was more silence. Then she broke it again, still blushing, speaking in a hesitant tone.

"Anthony?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you something?"

"What something would that be?"

"I want the first guy I'm with to be just like you."

"Thanks, babe. That's more of a compliment than you realize."

And I told her about the documentary I'd seen where the woman's blood spills across the man's penis in a sacred contract.

"Wow! That's deep!" she said.

"Yes it is. You only get one chance to choose your first lover. Choose carefully."

"My friend Pam lost her cherry to some guy she just met. She was really stupid about it. He was all smooth and shit and he got her in a bedroom and the next thing you know, she's calling for me to get her some Kleenex cause there's blood everywhere. I was like, 'what the hell!? Are you okay!?' and she was like, 'I just lost my cherry!' and I was like, 'Oh my god!' But then this guy just gets up and leaves. She didn't even get his number. She hasn't even seen him since. Stupid, huh?"

"More sad really."

"Yeah. I'm only thirteen and I know it's supposed to be something special. Not something you just throw away to some guy because he's wearing the same kind of jacket and hairstyle your favorite movie star wears. She's so stupid!"

"There's a difference between stupid and just not knowing."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, maybe she just didn't know that it was supposed to be special. If you know what you're supposed to do, and don't do it, that's stupid, but if you didn't know, if you were never told, if you had no idea, it's just sad."

(I guess that makes Charlotte stupid then, a voice said inside my head. The voice sounded a lot like Sheila's.)

"I guess so," Amy replied.

"We're home."

"This is your place?"

"Yup. It's no mansion, but I like it."

"I like it too. I'd rather stay here than in a mansion."

We got out of the truck, I grabbed Amy's bags and we went into the house. Mom was home now. I introduced the two of them and we went to my room. Amy was enthralled. She wandered around my room, looking at all my posters, looking at my books, looking at the stickers on my dresser, looking at the trophies high up on my shelf.

I remembered the first time Charlotte was in my room, how she'd wandered around the exact same way, looking at all my posters, looking at the girl with the tattoo on her hip, and then showing me hers. It seems so long ago now, in another universe even, a universe where the future still held promise and excitement. I got a little choked up again. But then Amy sat down beside me on the bed, much too close, and just stared up at the corner of the ceiling. Then she looked at me with a nervous little smile, as though waiting for something. Her face was less than a foot away.

"You want me to leave you alone so you can get changed?" I said, getting up off the bed.

"I wanna try on some new things. Let me know what you think."

"I'll be right back," I said.

I closed the door behind me and went to talk to my mom.

"Did Charlotte call?"

"I don't think so. Not since I've been home."

"She'll probably call soon enough. Her sister's here."

"You guys fighting again?" Mom asked.

"No, not really. Why?"

"You look like you've been crying."

"I'm just stressed out. I'll be alright."

"Does your friend want something to eat?"

Moms are awesome. I gave her a hug just for thinking like a mom.

"I'll go find out."

I went back to the room and peeked in the door.

"You all decent?" I asked.

"Come in. Quick. Shut the door!" she whispered. She was hiding behind my closet door.

I did as she instructed and turned back around.

"My mom wants to know if you want anything to..."

My brain turned to mush as Amy stepped from behind my door wearing only her sexy panties. She was blushing red as a cherry and her hands were shaking, but she stepped out, fidgeting nervously. Her chest peeked out at me, two small pink nipples on mini-handfuls of bulging breasts. She turned sideways and wiggled her bum at me. Her panties were black, frilly, and very revealing. There was only a thin, inch-wide strip covering her rear crevice and spreading into a whale tail up by her tailbone. She turned again, and fidgeted some more, waiting for me to say something.

What could I say though? She was too young for me. She was my girlfriend's sister, well soon-to-be ex-girlfriend anyway, but still Charlotte's sister nevertheless. She was also dealing with the death of her mother during one of the most hormonally unbalanced times in a human being's life. And here she was naked in front of me, sharing something sacred with me, something intimate. She was incredibly pretty, intoxicatingly cute, but I couldn't quite get the idea out of my head that a big part of her was still just a girl.

What could I say though? Whatever I said in the next ten seconds, or didn't say, could have a profound and lasting effect on her, her ego, her self-esteem, her very sexuality, for the rest of her life. If I said too much, and then pulled away later because she's too young, she'd be crushed. If I didn't say enough, she'd be crushed immediately. Damn!

So I just stood there staring for a moment, scrambling for the right words.

"Do you like them?" she asked me. Her eyes pleaded with me for assurance, for validation.

In the end, I didn't say anything at all. I just walked up, took her in my arms and kissed her. I kissed her deeply and passionately, opening her lips with my tongue and finding hers, touching hers with mine, tasting her, sharing my taste with her in return. She trembled in my arms but didn't pull away. I was her entire universe for that minute or so. Then I pulled away. She stood, completely and totally awestruck. Everything was tumbling and crackling and burning and rushing around inside her. I could see it on her face. She swallowed hard. And then she went in and grabbed some more of me, kissing me back this time. I let her. She grabbed the back of my neck and held onto me, not wanting me to pull away, not letting me when I tried to. She kissed me like she was starving and I was her food. She didn't pull away, but she shook like a leaf with the struggle over it. Finally I forced myself from her grip. She was panting like she'd just run around the block a few times. Maybe she had, inside her mind.

"Amy, you're the prettiest girl I've seen in a very long time," I said. "And you kiss beautifully. And any guy would be lucky to be your first. And I wish it could be me..."

"But?"

"But..."

But what, Anthony!? Think, man! Her heart is on the verge of shattering here!

"But I'm Charlotte's boyfriend."

"But if you weren't?" she asked, pleading with her eyes again, shaking like she was in her own private earthquake.

"Then I'd do this..."

I kissed her again, and this time I slid my hands down all over her nearly naked body, caressing her everywhere as our tongues danced. Apparently she'd never been touched like that before. She went weak on her legs. She sagged against me, her arms tightened around my neck. She broke the kiss and buried her face in my neck, panting fast and shallow, like she was drowning now, rather than running around the block.

"L- let's don't ... go to the ... dance ... Anthony. Let's just ... go ... somewhere ... and you can ... be my first ... okay? Make a ... contract ... with my blood ... okay? You ... I want you."

"I can't do that, Aims," I answered, now shaking a bit myself from the excitement of the offer.

"Why?" she said, looking up into my eyes like I'd pulled a knife on her or something, and was threatening to stab her in the heart.

I kept on caressing her, though I should have stopped.

"Because you're too small, and I'm too big, first of all. It would hurt you more than you realize. You have no idea."

"How could anything that feels this good..."

"Second of all," I said, cutting her off. "You're in a very emotional time right now, and I don't want to be the cause of any pain at all to you, in any way."

"I don't care if it hurts me! It's supposed to hurt, right?"

"I'm not talking about that kind of pain, Amy. I'm talking about your heart. Because you like me. I know you do. Too much I think. I know you do because you'd never let just anyone do this to you. You're not like that. And I'm so honored by you letting me do this, but I don't think you know what you're getting into by liking me like this."

"I don't care," she said. "You're the only person I feel safe with. You're the only person who talks to me like I'm a human being, and not some stupid little kid."

"But that doesn't mean you love me, though. What if you give this to me, and then later find a guy you really do love and have nothing to give him?"

"If I give it to you, I'll love you forever. That's what the contract's for, isn't it?"

"Forever isn't always forever, though. Especially when you haven't even figured out who it is you're giving away to someone forever."

"Don't stop, Anthony. Please. That feels so good."

I'd stopped caressing her and was withdrawing my hands. We kissed some more. Finally after a couple more minutes she spoke.

"This isn't gross at all."

I smiled again.

"I get it now," she said. "I finally know what the big deal is."

"Nice, isn't it?"

"You're made of magic or something. I never felt like this ... ever!"

"Well, the trouble is, Aims, it's not always gonna be this good. Most guys just wanna take you and stick it in. They don't care about how you feel or what you want. All they wanna do is come. It's very sad."

"I'll just stick with a guy like you, who knows what to do."

"Good plan, if you can find one."

"This is more beautiful than you said it would be. I was expecting something nice, but this... !"

"It feels even better when you're in love, and you know you're in love and everything's safe and secure."

"Like you and Charlotte?"

Ouch ... I didn't answer.

"All I'm saying is, save yourself for a guy who really, really loves you, and wouldn't leave you for anything, and you'll always feel this way, even when he doesn't even touch you."

"I'd go insane if I always felt this way."

"It's a feeling in your heart, Aims. It's different, but just as powerful. I hope you feel it one day, that feeling where you'll just do anything and everything for a guy just because he's so awesome to you."

"I already feel that way," she said, staring into my eyes.

"You think you do, my girl, but you don't even know me. What you're feeling isn't love, it's just intense excitement, and the desire for love. It feels like love, but it's not. I'll be your friend. But I want you to be real with me, okay? I want you to be smart, and brave, and be honest. You just met me yesterday. You won't feel like you really love me until you really know me."

"I really love you now. I really do," she said.

"How do you know?"

"Because the thought of you going back to Charlotte breaks my heart. I want you to be mine."

Oh no. What had I done? I never should have kissed her? Why did I do it? Was it really to spare her feelings, or was I just trying to bandage my own bleeding ego. I'm such an idiot.

"It just feels like love, Amy. It's just a bunch of hormones and giddiness and craziness in your head all mixed up together, but real love is different."

"I love you, Anthony! I love you, I love you, I love you!"

Oh no! She was almost in tears, giddy and giggling drunkenly, sighing and whimpering as she said it over and over again, staring at me like I was an angel in the flesh or something. Dammit!

"This is what I didn't want to happen, Aims," I said with a sigh. "Because you're not even old enough to be dating anyone yet, and I don't want you to be hurt."

"I won't tell anyone anything. Not even Charlotte. I won't act crazy around you. I'll be calm. I'll be normal. But inside I'll be flying like a roller coaster. I love you, I love you, I love you."

"And if your heart gets broken, don't say I didn't warn you. I guess you gotta find these things out on your own. I guess you gotta go through them. It's part of growing up, learning, and becoming who you're gonna be."

"I just wanna be yours forever, and give you everything, all of myself, even if it hurts. I want to be all yours ... forever."

She was grabbing my hands and trying to place them on her privates. I pulled away. Then she started trying to take her panties off, and yank my pants down. I stopped her from doing that as well, but she was getting more and more excited. She was nearly as desperate as a horny teenage boy.

"Now you know how your boyfriend felt," I said, yanking her hands away. She looked stunned for a moment, and it gave me a chance to pull away from her. I went to the door. "Get dressed for the dance and meet me in the kitchen."

"Isn't she a bit young for you, Anthony?" mom said as I bit into one of her sandwiches. Amy was in the washroom.

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, you think I was born yesterday, kiddo? You've been hiding in the bedroom with the door shut for the past hour and she comes out wearing a different outfit then when she went in. And what happened to Charlotte, anyway?"

"Nothing happened in the bedroom, mom," I said, "and me and Charlotte are still together. Amy's her sister. She's just hanging out with me while Charlotte's ... busy."

"Alright. Don't get testy. I just wanna make sure you're not getting in trouble."

Charlotte finally called while Amy and I were eating sandwiches. Amy was sitting there oggling me like a lovesick puppy, making me feel worse and worse by the minute. I was about to remind her she'd promised not to act crazy in front of people when the phone rang.

"Anthony?"

"Hello, Charlotte."

"Is Amy with you?"

"Yup."

"When are you bringing her home?"

"I'm not bringing her home. I'm taking her to the dance."

"Oh. You're going?"

I was trying to think of some clever comeback to her stupid question, but before I could open my mouth Jade called out in the background.

"Charlotte, he's getting hard again..."

I said nothing.

Charlotte said nothing.

Amy bit into her sandwich, staring at me like I had rainbows coming out of my eyes or something.

"I don't know what to say, Anthony."

"Neither do I."

Now Amy was looking at me with that naughty little gleam again. I winked at her, trying to pretend I wasn't fighting off an emotional hurricane inside my being. I got up and went around the corner for a bit of privacy. Apparently so did Charlotte. Jade's cooing and giggling faded and there was the sound of a closing door.

"I'm sorry, Anthony. I messed up."

"You didn't mess up. You're just being Charlotte. This is perfectly normal for you. If you'd have treated me like a human being, and sent that self-absorbed hard-on on two legs packing, that would have been messing up for you."

"That's mean, Anthony."

"I'm not trying to be mean. You can't change who you are. I don't expect you to."

"I'm trying to apologize."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Steve was right. You're not really apologizing. You just don't want to feel shitty inside. The apology is just words though. You're not really sorry."

"What do you want me to say!?"

"Just be straight with me."

"I don't even know what the hell happened, Anthony. How the hell can I explain it to you?"

"Just be straight with me."

"What the hell does that mean? Just be straight with you? What am I supposed to say?"

"Why are you mad at me? I didn't do anything wrong."

"You're treating me like shit!"

I laughed. It was a sad kind of laugh though. A tired laugh.

"Don't laugh at me! I'm trying to apologize and you're treating me like shit."

"I'm not allowed to be mad?"

"You can at least be decent about it."

"So far I've been very fucking decent, as decent as a human being can be, considering the circumstances."

"You're talking to me like I'm some kind of whore."

"You're not a whore, Charlotte. You're just stupid."

She was stunned silent, like I'd smacked her in the face. I didn't say anything else until she spoke again.

"Anthony, whatever the hell I did, I don't deserve to be belittled like that. I don't-"

"Let's talk about being belittled, Charlotte! You wanna talk about being belittled? Try having your girlfriend walk right past you without even looking you in the eye, on her way to fucking a guy who wouldn't even give her boyfriend, the man she claims to love, the time of day. Try sitting around all damn day, trying to think about anything else but the fact that this same arrogant asshole is coming all over her and her slut friend over and over again while her boyfriend babysits the sister she just met the day before. If you don't think that's belittling, if you don't think that's the stupidest fucking thing you've ever heard in your whole damn life, I'd hate to see how low your definition of stupid really goes."

I said all this, angrily, furious, but never raising my voice above a low mumble. I didn't want Amy to hear a word. Charlotte was silent, probably crying, but I didn't care.

"I'm taking Amy to the dance. I'm protecting her from finding out her sister is meanest, dumbest, most disrespectful bitch on the face of the earth. If you find time between taking loads out of Vincenzo's big Italian pepperoni, you'll find us at the dance."

I was gonna hang up, but I couldn't. Just before I pulled the phone away from my ear, I heard a quiet sob. I held the phone out in front of me for a moment, and then slowly brought it back to my ear, squeezing my eyes shut and clutching my fist to the side of my head. I let out a long sigh.

"You're right, Anthony. You're absolutely right. But you know what? This is why I didn't want to have a boyfriend in the first place. This is why I never wanted to you to fall in love with me. This is why I should have just stayed single, happy, and free, with no one to hurt except myself. I never asked you to fall in love with me. I warned you. Didn't I warn you? So maybe we're both just a little bit stupid, aren't we?"

"Who's more stupid? The guy who actually believes his girl can become better than she is, if she really tries, or the girl who walks all over that faith, pisses on it and tosses it away?"

"What do you mean better than she is? The only thing that's wrong with me is that I was dumb enough to have a boyfriend, especially a jealous little boy in a teenage body who can't stand the idea that his girlfriend might not want to be tied down to one cock the rest of her life!"

"It's not about whether you fuck other guys, Charlotte. It's about who these guys are. You think for one second you're mom would ever touch this Vincenzo guy with a ten foot pole? You'd think she'd even speak to anyone who treated your father like hired help who's no more than an obstacle to walk around on his way to fucking his woman? I've only known your mother for a couple weeks and even I know that she'd never do that in a million years. It's too bad her daughter can't show her man the same respect."

That got her. She quit fighting me after that. She knew she was totally and completely in the wrong. I'd won the fight, but I didn't enjoy the victory at all. You can't enjoy being right when the truth you're arguing is that you've been a loser all along.

"What hurts the most is that I believed in you, Charlotte. I still do. You're better than this. I don't know why you did this. I guess you're just scared, insecure, and just a little bit dumb about how to deal with these things. But I believe in you. I honestly do."

I was crying now, telling her these things through a broken, croaking voice.

"Don't," she said. "I'm not worth it."

And she hung up.

My first impulse was to rush down there, grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she came to her senses, but I didn't. I stopped myself. What would I tell Amy? The best I could do was just hope she figured things out on her own and called me in the morning. In the mean time, I had to take Amy to the dance.

What I really wanted to do though, was talk to Sheila. Sheila would make me feel better.

Amy peeked sideways around the corner. Just her eyes were showing. She blinked twice. She was wearing the kitty hoody — black hood, with two pink triangle cat ears on top. She looked adorable.

Blink, blink.

"Done your sandwich?"

"I am indeed."

"You ready to dance?"

"Yup."

"Shall we?"

Moments later we were in the truck, driving toward my school. Mick and Janine would be there. Steve would be there. Sheila would be locked in the Lawsens' basement all night, and lord knows where Charlotte would be.

Amy, it turned out, was almost as insatiable as Charlotte. From wear she lay on the seat, she was only inches away from my cock. She wriggled up and laid her head in my lap, looking up at me.

"You're hard. I can feel it."

"I can't help it."

"Can I suck on it?"

"What's gotten into you, Amy? Less than twenty-four hours ago you were this sweet little innocent girl who wouldn't even swear. Now you're acting like a full-out nympho."

"I guess you were right about me. It was all an act because I was worried someone would think I'm a slut or something. Now I just don't even care. I feel awesome. I feel like it's finally okay for me to just be myself."

"Are you sure this is who you are?"

"All I know is it feels really good being naughty and sexy."

"And what if I don't feel good about you acting like that?"

"You will, soon as I get my mouth on you."

"Yes, it feels good physically, but in my mind it feels wrong."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not sure this is who you really are. I'm not sure this is who you wanna be."

"I thought you said it was all about growing, learning, making my own mistakes and just making it up as I go."

"Some mistakes you can't take back though."

She was quiet for a moment, looking up at me as the headlights from on-coming cars lit up my face off and on.

"Are you and Charlotte fighting?"

"Kind of."

"What about?"

"About her, I guess. She's kinda weird sometimes and I don't know how to deal with it."

"You guys gonna break up?"

"I don't think so. I hope not."

"If she breaks up with you, lot of girls will be wanting to take her place."

I sighed. It was supposed to comfort me, but it didn't. The Charlotte I loved, the Charlotte I believed she could be, could never be replaced.

But how long could I wait for her to become the Charlotte I'd imposed upon her in my dreams? And did I even want her to change?

"You really love her, don't you?" Amy said.

"I don't know anymore. I don't even know if I know who she really is. You can't love a person for who you want them to be. You have to love who they really are. You have to really know them, and really love who they really are..."

"Sometimes you can just love someone just because you wanna love them. Sometimes it's just about how you feel, no matter who they are. It's just as strong, you know. Maybe stronger, 'cause nothing they do matters. It's about you. It's about your choice to love them no matter what."

I was at a red light when she said that. I looked down at her and saw the soft amber glow of a streetlight on her face.

"You're a brave girl," I said. "You're talking about unconditional love, and that's the scariest of all."

"That's the way I love you. Just 'cause I want to. Just 'cause it makes me happy."

"Thank you," I said. And the light turned green.

It turned out, Charlotte showed up at the dance too, and she looked phenomenally sexy. I just stared at her all night, watching her dance, watching her laugh with other guys, watching her glance up at me every once in a while with a sad look in her eye. She never came up to talk to me though, and I never approached her.

Apparently me and Charlotte Lawsen were over.



-------

Chapter 28: The Dance


It turns out Amy was right. As soon as the gossip got around that Charlotte and I were no longer an item, girls started coming up to me, hugging me, telling me how sorry they were about it, asking me if I was okay, and if I would like to dance. It was actually hard to feel bad after about nine or so different girls had hit on me, some subtly, some blatantly. And it didn't stop all night.

I finally gave in and danced with this girl named Jennifer — tall, very cute, very curvaceous, and with an extraordinary rack. It was a slow song and she held me close, pressing her breasts into me as though I needed a pillow to rest on in my fragile condition. We didn't really talk much though. I wasn't feeling very talkative. I looked over though, and saw a young boy sitting beside Amy, talking with her. She was smiling shyly, laughing occasionally, and looking like she was actually having fun. That was good.

I saw Steve talking to a young lady as well. She didn't seem very interested in being seen talking to him, but he didn't notice, or didn't care. He was just happy to be there at the dance, rocking his head back and forth in time to the song, and talking too loud about something he thought was incredibly cool. Eventually she actually started talking back to him, and she even smiled a few times. Very cool. Steve didn't seem too crushed anymore. He didn't seem to care at all what anyone thought of him. I guess no matter how much of a nerd you are, if you don't give a shit what anyone thinks about you, you're still kinda cool.

The song ended and another one started. I pulled away from Jennifer, wanting to sit down for a while. She held on to me though.

"One more. Just one more!"

"I gotta sit down for a bit. Thanks for the dance."

But on my way back to sit down with Amy, another girl grabbed me and pulled me back to the throng, Gerri Meskaleck, a friend of Charlotte's. I sighed and went.

"I'm so sorry to hear about you and Charlotte," she said. "You must feel awful."

"What did you hear?"

"I heard she just didn't want to be tied down or whatever, even though you're like the sweetest guy ever, she said."

"Charlotte said that?"

Apparently she hadn't told Gerri the whole story.

"Yeah. She says she feels awful, but it's for the best."

"I hope so."

"Don't worry, Anthony. I've already talked to at least fifteen girls who've said you can tie them down any time you damn well want."

"I've noticed."

"I'm one of them," Gerri said, staring me right in the eyes, leaning in like she wanted me to kiss her, like she wanted me to know I could do whatever the hell I wanted to her and that would be just exactly peachy keen.

I didn't though. I just danced with her, trying to ignore the lyrics of the song. Some soulful balladeer was going on and on about how things would have been much better if they'd only tried a little harder, and not given up so soon.

"Because you're worth it to me. You're all I'll ever need. We can hold on for forever, if you just try to believe..." etc. etc.

Shut up, asshole,  I thought to myself. Why do these songs always seem to hit the nail right on the head, at the worst possible time? I was trying not to get choked up.

"Look at this," Gerri muttered to me, nodding her head to the left.

I looked. Some guy was dancing with a girl, and they were slurping away on each other's tongues like it was their last meal or something.

"Wow. Apparently they really like each other."

"Look lower," she said, nodding downward.

I looked lower. He had his hand up her skirt and down her panties, his wrist was twisting and turning like he was digging for gold or something. My eyes widened. She was a really cute girl with a very sweet-looking ass. I didn't know who she was, but I knew the guy from one of my classes. He looked over, saw us looking, and grinned. Then he went back to the kiss.

"Someone's getting lucky tonight," I said.

"She's lucky already," Gerri said, nodding downward in a not-so-subtle invitation to do some treasure hunting of my own. I didn't take the bait though. I still felt shitty about kissing Amy. I just held her around the waist and waited for the song to end.

Then Gerri kissed me, or tried to anyway. I turned my face away at the last second and her kiss landed on my cheek.

"I'm sorry," she said, embarrassed.

"I know it sounds like a line, but I can honestly say that it truly isn't you. It's me."

Gerri was a very beautiful girl, and any guy in the room would have been thrilled to kiss her, but I didn't feel like kissing anyone at the moment. I was actually thinking about how I'd probably never be able to kiss Charlotte again, not without feeling more pain than joy.

"I know. You must be so crushed inside. And that just makes me want to kiss you even more. You're such a sweet guy, Anthony, and if I didn't love Charlotte so much, I'd say she's not worth one of your tears, except she is, and it's all just a fucked up situation."

"You're telling me."

Amy was a few feet away from me, dancing with the boy she'd been talking to. I smiled at her. She shrugged. She looked happy.

"But you know, in spite of everything that's happened to you and Charlotte," Gerri continued, "I gotta say that if there's anything I can do for you, you just gotta ask. You know what I mean? Anything."

Anything. Wow. Gerri was offering me something very beautiful. Basically all of herself. And why? Because she thought I was hurting (which I was) and she wanted to make me feel better.

"That's very cool of you, Gerri. It means a lot to me. Honestly. I just can't take you up on that. Not yet. You understand."

"My head understands, anyway. My body wants to drag you off behind the nearest closeable door and make you forget that Charlotte Lawsen even exists."

"That would actually be nice, at least for a little while."

I was referring to forgetting that Charlotte even existed. Gerri thought I meant the sex.

"You want to? Let's go right now."

Wow. That easy. How many guys wished they could be in my place right then? And there I was too wrapped up in Charlotte to even respond. It was understandable though. Charlotte was a beautiful girl, and I loved her completely.

"I can't, Gerri. It's not just Charlotte. I'm sorta supposed to be keeping an eye on her sister too. Have you met her little sister?"

"I heard she was in town. That's her right there, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"She kinda looks like Charlotte, except darker. And younger."

Gerri moved my hands off her waist, down to her ass. She had a nice ass. I raised my eyebrow at her.

"Maybe later?" she said, and her eyes reiterated the anything she'd offered me.

"Maybe."

"Would it help if I told you I got a thing about going down on a guy? I really, really like it."

She was really, really trying to convince me. Luckily the song was ending. I kissed her on the cheek again.

"I'd really, really like that Gerri. But give me some time to let things cool down first, okay?"

"I'm sorry," she said again. And we parted ways after squeezing one another's hands.

Trish Seares approached me as I made my way off the dance floor. I'd slept with her a few weeks before I'd met Charlotte, and she was probably partly responsible for us getting together in the first place. She looked beautiful as well.

"How's it hanging, big guy?"

"You gonna hit on me too?"

"I'm still sorta healing from the last time. I'll spare you. I just wanted to say, how awful I feel, about Charlotte and everything."

I gave her half a hug, and she gave me a peck on the cheek.

"You really are a decent guy, Anthony. Charlotte's a fool to let you go."

"Tell her that."

"Already did. Me and about a hundred other gals."

"What'd she say?"

"She agreed, but told me to try to make you feel awesome if I could."

"I don't think it's possible, but thanks for trying."

"Mammphomy!" someone called out to me as I headed back to the bleachers. I turned. It was Jimmy, the new guy in school, the one from my English Composition class, the class where I'd first been paired up to tutor Charlotte. I didn't recognize him at first though. I just gave him a blank stare.

"Iss Jimmy, mam!" he slurred, swaying on his feet.

"Hey, Jimmy. How you making out?"

"Chicks here's awesome. I got two different phone numbers already."

"Wow. Two. That's great."

"Y'ain't been at school the past few days."

"Been sick."

"How's it goin' wit you'n that Charlotte chick, mam? She one fine piece of peach pie or what?"

"She is. But listen. She's single again, if you're interested."

"No way, mam! That's awesome! I thought you'n her's like, a thing."

"Not anymore."

"Coool," he said, scanning the crowd for her. "Hey, there she is."

She was over in a huddled group of dancers, shaking her ass, kicking her feet, and just generally wriggling all over. She was flinging her hair around too and that made me ache for her once again. I suddenly saw her on her bed beneath me, with that hair splayed out in a wide fan beneath her on the pillow, like an angel's wings.

"I'm 'unna go talk to 'er," Jimmy said. "Mam, I can hardly feel my mips... Lips, I meam!" He laughed out loud. Too loud. A teacher glanced over.

"Go for it, man. Have a blast."

There was a tug on my sleeve. I turned and saw two little pink kitten ears above two dazzlingly pretty eyes.

"Hey, Aims," I said. "What's up?"

"Very little."

"I see you got a new boyfriend."

"That's Devon," she said. "He just felt up my ass. What a dick."

"Come on, admit it. You kinda liked it."

"Nuh-uh. Not even. No way."

"Not even a little bit?"

"He doesn't even know me. What a knob."

"You want me to punch him out?" I asked, smirking at her.

"I just want you to stay near me, so he leaves me alone."

"He's bugging you?"

"He's kinda following me around, yeah."

"He likes you. That's what boys do."

"Yeah? Well I'm ignoring him. That's what girls do."

I laughed.

"I was right, wasn't I? About all the girls wanting to take Charlotte's place."

"You were right, Aims."

"Everyone was talking about you in the girl's bathroom. You're like a movie star or something. They all think Charlotte's nuts to let you go, but they're all glad she did."

"That's nice to hear."

"No it's not," she said. Her eyes fell to the floor.

"Why not?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

When a woman says nothing, never mind, it usually means that it's the exact opposite of nothing — it's everything, and they just want to see if you care enough about them to ask.

"Come on, Amy. What's wrong?"

Amy started crying, right there in the dance. Her eyes were shining like wet jewels in the sparkling colors of the DJ's light show.

"It means I don't have a chance in hell of you being my boyfriend. Ever. I'm not as pretty as any of them. I'm not curvy and sexy and slutty the way you like."

"The way I like? What do you mean?"

"You like girls like Charlotte, girls who act like they wanna fuck you any chance they get, girls who go all the way like it's nothing, girls who let guys feel them up on the dance floor, who give guys blow jobs under the bleachers."

"It only seems that way, Amy. I'm not really like that."

"All guys are. I gotta change, be a slutty stupid little whore, or no guy will ever want me."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say. You know that's not true."

"Yes it is."

"Okay, look. I won't deny that it's physically attractive when a girl seems like she's easy and all that. It's part of our biology. Guys want to have as much sex as they can without having to do a lot of work to get it. We can't help it. But the truth is, guys also know, smart guys that is, that there's gotta be more to a girl than something you can come all over, or it's meaningless and stupid and shallow."

"Smart guys?" Amy asked.

"Yeah, guys who actually know how to treat women right, who aren't just all about spraying their loads around."

"Guys like you."

"I guess."

And she looked at me, and cried even harder. I grabbed her and led her over behind the bleachers where less people could see us.

"What's wrong, Amy?"

"It's just that you're so special. You're like the only one who treats me right, and I feel like I can never have you."

"I'm not the only guy who'll ever treat you right. Not even close. There's lots of nice guys out there. You just gotta hold out for the right ones, that's all. Don't be in a hurry. Don't feel like you have to have someone, right now. That's what causes you to make mistakes and get your heart broken, like that friend of yours, and the guy she'd just met."

"Pam."

"Yeah, her. She was probably trying to be just like what you're talking about, trying to be exactly what she thinks boys want, just so they'll pay attention to her, maybe even love her, but it doesn't work."

"It worked for Charlotte."

And then she wiped her tears and wandered away.

I walked over and sat down on the bleachers again. Just staring around at people, just thinking. I saw Amy out on the dance floor a few minutes later, dancing with Janine and some other girls. She was trying to look happy, but I knew she wasn't. I knew her smile was phony. I sighed. Everything inside me felt all tied up in knots, almost ready to snap. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down.

Then the DJ played another set of slow songs, announcing that it was almost time to wrap it up. Thank god.

I was immediately mobbed by three or four extremely beautiful girls, all asking if I wanted to dance with them, practically begging me. I apologized profusely but stood my ground. I did not want to dance anymore, with anyone.

While the song played, that little Devon kid asked Amy to dance again. She accepted. I smiled. I guess maybe she was ready to accept things, even though she didn't much like it. That was cool of her.

But then she started kissing the guy, and I mean really kissing him, full on, open mouth, tongues, roaming hands, everything. Whoa! I thought for a moment that maybe she was trying to make me jealous or something, but then I decided that she was smarter than that. She knew I was more confident than to be jealous of a fourteen-year-old kid. Then I thought maybe she was trying to be rebellious, maybe make me mad or whatever. That wasn't it either. I knew because she never once looked over at me to see if I was watching. She kissed him for practically the whole song and didn't even peek over at me once.

I realized that the saddest truth of all was probably the correct one. She was trying to become what she thought guys wanted. Oh, Amy. If only she could have seen how absolutely beautiful she was, just standing there dancing, just being herself.

"You wanna dance, Anthony?"

There beside me, looking as beautiful as I'd ever seen her, was Charlotte. I almost burst out bawling like a lost little boy right then and there, but I crumpled the feeling up in a bundle in my guts and held it back. I just stared at her for a moment, and I think she must have seen a dozen different emotions pass through my eyes in a matter of seconds. Anger, hurt, love, forgiveness, jealousy, sadness, regret, hope, guilt, pity, contempt, fear. They were all there like a great maniacal party, ready to break into a riot.

"If you don't wanna, I understand."

"I do want to."

"But?"

"I don't wanna cry my eyes out in front of everyone."

"It helps to try to pretend like nothing even happened. Like it was all a beautiful dream. That's what I've been doing all night."

"So have I. Not much luck with that though."

"I don't want you to think I'm having an easy time with this either. Everything inside me is on fire and in mangled strips, shredded and angry and I just wanna scream and come running back to you and never let go."

"But?"

"But I don't ever want to hurt you. Never again. I honestly don't deserve you. I think even you realize that by now."

"I don't know anything anymore. I don't know how I feel."

"So let's just dance then."

She took my hand and we walked out to the floor. The crowd parted like we were celebrities or something. All eyes were on us. People stopped dancing, just staring. We stopped in the middle of a clearing in the throng and started slow dancing. People around us started moving again, but they were still staring. Charlotte put her head on my shoulder and just held me. It felt so good it made my heart ache, like really painfully ache. She was soft. She was warm. She was real. She wasn't a dream. She was holding me tight. She apparently still loved me, and that for some reason was causing me more pain than relief. I didn't know why.

"I really do love you, Anthony. I always will. I don't ever wanna let you go. I don't think I ever can. But breaking your heart like I did this afternoon ... that's more agony than I can deal with. That's more torture to me than never holding you again as long as I live. Can you understand that? I can't trust myself. I don't think I can change, no matter how much I want to, no matter how much you believe in me. I think, the more you believe in me, the more I'll just keep breaking your heart. I love you with all my heart. I really do. I'm just really fuckin' lousy girlfriend material."

I felt tears on my neck.

"I don't know what to say, Charlotte. I don't know how I feel about all this, honestly. I've never been in love like this before either. I think it could be the most beautiful thing two people can ever experience together, or it can just be a bunch of non-stop horrible pain that eventually ends in misery, bitterness and hatred. What do we do?"

"We let it go while it's still something beautiful."

"Even if it tears away a piece of our soul."

"Exactly..."

And there were more tears on my neck.

"Amy met someone ... a boy," I said.

"Aw. That's sweet."

"They were kissing up a storm last I saw."

"Really? I thought she said that was sooo gross."

"Apparently she changed her mind. Women."

Charlotte didn't reply.

"Sheila still at your place?" I asked.

"She was there when I left, yeah. Working hard as usual. That's gonna be some production when it's done."

Ouch. Thinking about that movie brought back every wide open wound of memories of the past few weeks.

"It sure will."

"I can't wait to see mom and dad again."

"What are you gonna tell your mom? About us?"

"Just the truth. I'm pretty sure she'll agree with me. She really likes you and she wouldn't want you to be hurt either. She'll be disappointed in me, I'm disappointed in me, but she knows I can only be who I am."

"I guess so."

Another song started. The last song of the night, according to the DJ. It was Unchained Melody. I hated that fuckin' DJ.

"Daddy will be too caught up with Amy to even notice anything else. He called earlier, asking all about her. I've never heard him so excited. How is she? Are we getting along? Does she need anything? He says he offered to pay for any kind of treatment her mom needs, no matter what the cost, but they said all they can do is make her comfortable until the end. It's beyond treatment now. Oh, Anthony. Why does life have to be so fuckin' stupid and painful?"

"So that you appreciate the good things even more. And so you can be stronger, and help others. At least that's what they say. I honestly have no idea. It all seems random and stupid most of the time."

Lonely rivers flow, to the sea, to the sea, to the open arms of the sea ... I'll be coming home. Wait for me.

"Do you wanna kiss me?" she asked, not looking at me.

"I've wanted to kiss you all night, but if I do I'll never stop. But I also don't want to. I can't get the image of Vincenzo out of my mind, you know?"

Hot tears on my neck. She shook with a soundless sob.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

 ... and time goes by so slowly. And time can do so much. Are you still mine? I need your love... 

She pressed her wet cheek against mine, a substitute kiss. She shook in my arms. I could almost feel her heart breaking.

"It's alright. I can't have all this beauty all to myself, right?"

She sobbed out loud right then. A couple of people looked.

"I don't deserve you..." she cried softly on the skin of my neck.

Then she broke away and hurried from the gym, crying fully. I watched her go. The song wound up into an all too appropriate crescendo. Some of the on-looking girls had tears running down their cheeks too. Everyone looked kinda sad. Some followed after her. Someone tried to give me a hug, but I walked away.

I was sitting alone, behind the bleachers leaning up against the wall, hugging my knees, when the gymnasium lights came on. Everyone groaned and some kids started chanting for "ONE MORE SONG!" but the dance was over. The principal came on the sound system, thanking everyone for being on their best behavior and wishing them a great weekend. Kids started flowing out of the building, shouting, shoving energetically, laughing. Some were holding hands with dates, some were still kissing as they shuffled along with the river of people draining out of the gym. Mick found me sitting there. He had lipstick smeared on his cheek. Janine's.

"Party at Charlotte's, man. Did you hear?"

"What party?"

"She's been inviting people over all night. Just a few people, close friends and all, but word got around. I bet a hundred fuckin' kids show up there tonight."

"Shit!"

We may have been broken up, but I still felt some responsibility to the Lawsens. They'd asked me to take care of Charlotte before they left. I assumed that included helping her to keep the entire school from trashing their house.

Then a new thought hit me. If everyone in the school was gonna show up at Charlotte's, how was she possibly gonna keep her parents' career a secret? And...

"Ah fuck!"

"What?" Mick asked.

"What if someone finds out about the movie?"

"Ah fuck!" Mick echoed.

We found Amy and Janine and hurried out of the gym. We had to get to Charlotte's before anyone else did. We had to warn Sheila.



-------

Chapter 29: Insecurity


It was long after dark when we left the school. Night had fallen while we'd hid ourselves in the gym, making teenage memories at one of the last couple dances of the school year. Mick and Janine went in his car, and Amy and I went in my truck. Amy was of course giddy to be alone with me once again, but I began to wonder how Charlotte was feeling about her little sister spending more time with me than with her. I get the idea that Amy must have been wondering that herself. She never mentioned it though.

"What's the hurry, Anthony? Can't we go get some food?"

"We'll order food at Charlotte's, 'kay?"

"I guess. But why the big rush? You're driving like a crazy man."

I was too, gunning the engine at every green light, racing through yellows, rolling through stop signs with barely a glance to the left and right, taking every turn with a squeal of my tires. Amy didn't seem worried though. She seemed more excited.

"I just gotta get back to Charlotte's before half the school shows up. We're gonna have to send a lot of kids home. She's not allowed to throw a big party. Mick and I have to help her kick out all the kids that weren't invited."

"Oh."

A few kids actually did beat us back there. When we pulled into Charlotte's drive there were already some kids milling around in the yard in front of the front steps. They must have left the dance early and gotten there before the host had even arrived to let them in. The house was locked up and most of the lights were off. But those who were there were standing around in awe trying to figure out if they even had the right place.

"I can't believe someone from our school lives in a place like this!"

I jumped out of the truck and approached the small group.

"What's up, guys?"

"Party, man! We're here to party!"

"Were you invited by Charlotte herself?"

"Nah, man. We just heard about it. Thought we'd show up."

"Well you heard wrong. Sorry. There's no party here. Just a bunch of kids spreading rumors."

"Bullshit!"

"Charlotte will tell you the same thing when she gets here."

"We'll wait then."

"It's friends only," I said to some new kids who came strolling up. "If you weren't invited by Charlotte herself, you're gonna have to go party somewhere else."

"Who put you in charge? You're not even her boyfriend anymore."

I wanted to punch the guy. I was having one of the worst days I'd had in a long time and I would have liked nothing more than to take it out on this snarky little punk's face. I didn't though. I stepped up into his space though, going eyeball-to-eyeball with him.

"Charlotte's mom put me in charge actually. If you've got a problem with it maybe we should settle it right now."

He backed down, muttering something about bullshit again to his buddies and they faded back into the gathering crowd.

They were getting ornery. I sent Amy to wait in the truck. There were about fifteen kids standing around in a group on the lawn, eight guys and two girls I knew from school, and a few others I'd never seen before, waiting for things to get started.

"Parents are out of town. It's Friday night. Time to party!" some kid yelled. The girl beside him took a swig of some concealed bottle and passed it to her friend. Other kids were smoking, spitting on the lawn, and generally acting like a bunch of junior assholes. No wonder older folks don't think much of teens.

"PARTY!" Another kid yelled. I heard his voice echo off the house across the street. Uh-oh. Bad news already. I shoved him and told him to shut the hell up and get the hell out of here. He faded into the crowd as well, but didn't leave.

Mick pulled up as more kids arrived.

"You go in and warn Sheila," he said. "I'll keep things under control out here."

"Hey, how come he gets to go in!?" someone yelled.

"How come you assume that's any of your goddamn business?" Mick said with comforting authority. He was a big guy and the grumbling hushed up.

"I can't go in," I muttered quietly. "It's all locked up."

"Well, that's good I guess. Isn't Sheila in there though?"

"She'd be down in the basement. She's not answering the doorbell."

We managed to keep the crowds relatively calm and under control for a while, waiting for Charlotte to get home. Finally Mick got the idea to hop the fence into the back yard and check if the back door was open. Apparently it was. A minute later he opened the front door and let us in.

Janine came in with me. Mick stayed outside on crowd control. Amy went straight to the fridge and began stuffing her face with some leftover sandwiches. I dashed downstairs to the studio.

There was Sheila, still hard at work. She looked up as I burst in, then looked at the clock with apparent surprise that it was already after midnight.

"How was the dance?" she said.

"We got a problem, girl."

"Oh? Again?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately Charlotte invited a few friends over and word's gotten around that the party's at Charlotte's tonight. Now we gotta fight to keep the entire school from showing up down here. Even if we do get most of them to take off, there's still gonna be quite a bit of traffic through the house. You might have to shut everything down until it blows over."

"To hell with that!" Sheila said. "Just lock the basement door."

"There's no lock on the basement door."

"Well then you're gonna have to stand guard at the top of the stairs all night."

"I guess I'll have to," I said, blowing out an anxious sigh. "Are you sure you can't just take a break for a few hours?"

"When am I ever gonna get a chance to finish this thing if I don't finish it by Sunday?"

"I don't know."

"And what happens if a bunch of drunken teenagers try to use this room as a make-out room with these hundred-thousand-dollar cameras standing around? You think for a moment they won't be all over the place, trying to shoot their own action movie down here?"

"Shit..."

"I don't suppose it's really your problem, but you're gonna have to make it your problem, if you want me to get this thing done."

"You're right."

"I'm always right."

She went back to editing.

"Charlotte and I broke up," I said.

Sheila just stopped and looked at me for a moment. Then she looked at the monitor as though trying to decide if there was no any point in continuing with the movie now.

"What happened?"

"That Vincenzo guy, from this afternoon, apparently Charlotte and her friend Jade spent the afternoon fucking like bunny rabbits while we were all out."

Sheila looked concerned. Then she looked kind of angry. Then she looked really, really sad.

"I thought you guys were supposed to have this super close relationship and everything?"

"I thought so too, but I can't deal with her fucking some other guy, especially a guy who wouldn't even condescend to give me the time of day. It just proves to me that she doesn't really understand what love is."

"So you're broken up now?"

"Well yeah. I can't deal with her being treated like a cum rag by some self-absorbed asshole who probably won't even remember her name this time tomorrow."

Sheila was about to speak but Janine interrupted, crying out in fright from upstairs.

"Anthony!"

"Be right back!"

I turned and ran.

Mick was on the lawn, scuffling with a group of guys. Words had apparently been exchanged and now there was pushing and shoving.

"Do something!" Janine said, watching through the living room window. I ran outside, just as a second guy moved around behind Mick to support his buddy. He looked like he was waiting for the chance to pounce. I never gave him that chance. I grabbed him by the throat and yanked him back, slamming him into the grass with a heavy pounding thud. All the wind went out of him in a dry wheeze, and I stood over him ready for him to jump back up.

"Troubles, Mick?" I said.

"Yeah. Asshole here thinks he should be allowed to walk right in the place, just because I don't live here."

"I got your back, man."

"I repeat. There is no party here, so all of you just step the fuck off and go hang out at the 7/11 or something. You will not be entering this house."

The guy on the ground had gotten up and stumbled away, back into his group of friends. The guy who had squared off with Mick had backed up as well, seeing it would be no easy fight. More kids were arriving though, even as all this was going on, and things got even more intense. Where the hell was Charlotte?

"I guess we all gotta take off," the punk said to the newcomers. "The testosterone brothers here figure they own the fuckin' place and they've decided we're all not good enough to attend their party."

As soon as he'd finished speaking, he turned and tried to sucker punch Mick. Mick flinched sideways though and the fist simply grazed his cheek. It was a big mistake though. Having missed the punch, he spun a little off balance and Mick corrected him with a knee to the ribs that lifted him right off the ground. He landed about a foot back from where he'd been standing and doubled over in pain. Mick's foot shot up and he landed a kick right in the kid's face. This send him flipping right backward and he landed on the grass flat on his back with a loud thump. A girl screamed. Somebody took a swing at me while I was watching, connecting right in the temple. Everything flashed bright white for a moment and I stumbled sideways, knocked off balance for a moment, but before I'd even given my head a shake, Mick turned and collapsed the kid's nose with a cold hard crunching shot right in the face. The kid fell, unconscious before he hit the ground, and didn't get back up again. He apparently spent the night in the hospital too, I heard later, recovering from a concussion.

"Anyone else!?" Mick said, clenching his fists at the group.

The first kid got up again, with a very large shoe mark on the front of his face, and eyed Mick for another chance to strike. Mick was mad now though, and he stepped toward him in an aggressive stance, making the kid think better of taking a second shot. He backed up and backed down.

"Alright, alright!" he said. "Let's get the hell out of here. We came here to party, not to scrap."

My head hurt, but I was okay. The three idiots we'd fought got the worst of it. A couple of them picked up their fallen buddy and carried him off on shaky legs. But more kids were arriving, by the carload.

We kept shouting at the crowds that this party was invite only, and only people that we knew were actually Charlotte's friends would be allowed inside. Most of them left peacefully, with only minor grumbling, a few of them had words for us, but left peacefully enough. The ones we knew were okay, were allowed inside, but even these groups had brought friends along with them that we didn't know. We didn't know whether to turn them away or not so we decided to wait for Charlotte.

Where the hell was she?

I decided to head inside and check on Sheila again. See if maybe I couldn't talk her into taking a break after all. Kids were getting rowdy out there and that definitely took precedence over finishing the movie.

The basement lights were out though. I flicked the switch up and down a few times and no lights came on. So I felt my way down the stairs in the dark. The king-sized bedspread was hanging over the window of the control room and only a little bit of light came out from the monitor and a desk lamp she'd turned on inside there. I stumbled over some cables on the floor but found my way in to the control room.

"What happened to the lights?" I asked.

"I unscrewed all the bulbs. I figured if kids can't see anything down here they won't come snooping around. We'll keep the door shut up there, and the hall light out as well, and that should keep most of them away. Anyone else who wanders down here, we'll have to deal with one-on-one."

"I guess so," I said. "We almost got in a full-out scrap up there. Mick knocked a couple guys out already. I think they were from another school or something."

"Good thing he's here."

"Yeah."

"You better get back up there. Make sure only sensible people are allowed in."

I nodded and made my way back upstairs. There was Amy, talking on the cordless phone, looking nervous but happy.

"Yes, we just got back from a school dance. It was fun. Some boy was following me around all night, but Anthony scared him away ... Yeah, he's awesome. I like him ... Yeah, he's here. You wanna talk to him?"

She passed the phone to me.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hey there, Studly Doright. How's it shakin'?"

Stephanie Lawsen. As soon as I heard her voice, I realized how badly I missed her. I looked up at the portrait of her on the wall and my heart yearned to see her again. Somehow just the idea that she existed seemed to make the universe a lot less chaotic and a lot more comfortable.

"Hey, Steph. How's the trip going?"

"We're doing a lot better than you guys over there, it turns out."

"Yeah. I've definitely been better."

"Charlotte called me from school Anthony. She told me what happened."

Suddenly I wanted to cry again. Just the tone of her voice — so understanding, so accepting of whatever the situation was — it lifted an enormous weight off me.

"You heard the bad news, huh?"

"You okay, sweetie?"

"I've had a pretty rough day, actually, but I'm over here now anyway."

"I'm glad you're there actually, kiddo. Char told me she invited some friends over. I want you to make sure it doesn't get out of hand, okay? You know what I mean?"

"I've already chased a few punks off the lawn, Steph. You don't even need to ask."

"That's my little champ. But you go ahead and call the cops if you need to. Don't go getting yourself into fights over it."

"I'll do that, if I have to. My buddy Mick's here too. We'll keep the place tight as a drum."

"I knew I could count on you, baby."

"Do you know where Charlotte is, by the way?"

"She said she was going to drop some friends off, girls who had no ride home from the dance. Whole carload apparently. Some of them might be arguing with their mom's about whether they can stay over at Charlotte's tonight, if I know teenage girls. She should be along any time."

"She could also be crying on their shoulders or something. She was pretty upset when she left the dance."

"She was pretty upset when she called me. It took me fifteen minutes to convince her she wasn't the most horrible person on earth. I eventually got her down to feeling like she's only the most horrible person in the school. She's pretty messed up, Anthony."

"I'm not doing much better."

"I'm glad you're helping out with Amy though. You're an absolute prince to be taking care of that girl the way you are."

"She's a great kid. It's no trouble at all."

Amy looked at me when I said that, and flashed me a cold stare. Kid? Who you callin' a kid? Her eyes flared in retort.

"I'm sure she is, but you're still a prince, my boy."

I grinned. I blushed. The tone of her voice was intoxicating. It was hard not to feel like a five-year-old boy being praised by a favorite teacher when it was Stephanie Lawsen talking.

I changed the subject though, feeling kinda lonesome again.

"So what do I do, Steph? What should I do? How should I feel about all this?"

"I believe you're already gonna do exactly what Charlotte needs you to do right now. You don't even need me to tell you."

"And what's that?"

"You're gonna back off, give her some space and wait for her to realize that she can't possibly live without you. She's never gonna be as happy with anyone else, and she damn well better get her head out of the clouds and start treating you like the prince that you are.

"You see, Anthony, her tragic flaw has always been her inability to take life seriously when she needs to. I think on some level she's sees all this as just some sort of movie that she's starring in and you and everyone else involved are all just players in the Charlotte Show, you know what I mean? She doesn't realize there are actually consequences outside of her own little field of vision, and she's trampling over someone really great as she bungles through the scenes."

"I can see that actually. It makes sense."

"And your tragic flaw, my dear boy, is that you keep seeing her as this out-of-this world superstar, an angel in the flesh, a dream come true. She's a wonderful girl, but she's no angel. You're gonna have to let go of your dreams about who you think she is, and face reality. Love her as a human being. Have patience with her flaws, but stand up for yourself. Don't let her walk all over you anymore. Don't walk around feeling like you gotta take shit lying down just because she's some sort of beautiful princess. She's never gonna figure out all this shit if she doesn't start by respecting you."

"You told her that?"

"Of course I did, kiddo. But I didn't need to. She already knew it."

"So what now though? Are we still broken up?"

"Are you? I don't know. I'm seven hundred miles away."

"I guess we are, but do we get back together or what?"

"Give it some time, my boy. She needs to realize that there's something about you she can't live without, but she won't realize that until you're not there. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah."

"Love her. Be there as a friend, but back off a bit and give her something to miss. She's too spoiled for her own good."

"Okay. Yeah. You're right."

"I know she's really hurt you, Anthony. And she knows it too. I didn't even need to tell her how stupid she's being. She feels bad enough. I did have to remind her that she's a Lawsen though, and we Lawsens recognize quality when we see it. She's gonna give her head a shake and come crawling back to you. Don't worry about that for a moment. And you're gonna forgive her, completely and totally. This is what makes you quality in the first place. This is why we love you so much, Anthony."

We? Did she say we? Who did she mean? Herself and Charlotte? Herself and Ron? All of them? I had no idea, and I was too blown away to ask.

"And take care of Amy too. She's probably in for some rough nights in the next while. She hasn't heard from her mom since she went out there. It's gonna get worse before it gets better. All we can do is be there for her."

"True."

"But I'm gonna get going here, Mr. Mitchell. Don't let things get crazy over there. We'll see you Sunday, okay?"

"Thank so much, Steph. It's great to hear from you."

"You can thank me when we get home, mister. In the mean time, take care of our girls."

"Will do."

"Bye-bye."

And that was it. I hung up the phone and put it back on the counter.

"She's nice," Amy said.

"She's beautiful," I corrected her. Charlotte, it turned out, was merely an angel in training. Stephanie was the genuine article.

I had lots to think about, but Stephanie was right about one thing. I probably would have done exactly what she'd told me I should do, on my own, without being told: back off, give Charlotte some space, and let her come to her senses once and for all on her own. Whatever she'd done could be forgiven. She's more than worth it. I just gotta love her as a human being, and not like some dream-come-true in the flesh. I gotta be real. And most of all, I gotta believe that I'm as much the guy of her dreams as she is the girl of mine, and quit acting like I don't deserve to breathe the same air as her. If Stephanie Lawsen believed I was worthy, I was. And she did too. Now it was only Charlotte who had to figure everything out.

Even as that thought crossed through my mind, the dear girl came in the door. She was followed by an entourage of beautiful girls and good-looking guys. She stopped in the doorway, seeing me standing in front of her and not knowing what to do for a moment. The sentence she'd been saying died on her lips and she just stared at me for a moment with an unreadable expression. I stared back, and then I smiled.

"Your mom says I'm supposed to keep you girls in check."

"Thanks for bringing Amy home," she replied, stepping inside and letting people crowd in behind her. They were all quiet, listening to what we had to say to each other.

"No problem. Aims and I are buds, aren't we, Aims?"

"Best buds," Amy said from behind the counter on a stool. I heard a carrot stick crunch behind me. And about twenty different eyes were staring me down. I smiled.

Insert tremendously long awkward silence here.

Then she started introducing everyone to me and Amy, one by one, who they were and where she knew them from. They all wandered in, and gawked. They found their way to the couches and stools in the kitchen, and some sat on the stairs, and some sat on the fireplace hearth.

The drinking started almost immediately. Bottles came out of jackets and from out of sleeves and from inside pockets, and almost before the first song ended on the stereo, almost everyone had had a couple of chugs, except for Amy and I.

She was sitting on the couch with some girls, just quietly listening to their blather, smiling now and then, but mostly just watching, like it was a TV show or something. Everyone laughed too loud, flung their hair too widely, and leaned in with bigger smiles than were necessary. The guys were eyeing up the gals like they were on a menu or something, and the girls carried on with the ritual as though they were completely unaware they were being sorted, rated, and claimed in the hearts of the young men. A couple of them were even eyeing up Amy. I'd have to keep an eye on her.

Mick and Janine were sitting by the door outside, just talking, kissing, and turning people away who showed up uninvited. Altogether, there were about twenty people in the place, a manageable amount, and they were barely even talking above normal conversation level. Other than a boisterous laugh now and then, things were pretty calm. The music bumped though, and the volume was cranked up now and then when a "totally awesome song" came on. Some girls even jumped up to dance.

After a few more songs, Charlotte saw me sitting on the stairs by myself, and came over to talk to me for a bit.

"We've secured the basement downstairs," I told her. "Sheila pulled all the bulbs out, so it's pitch black down there. But we're still gonna keep an eye on the door, make sure nobody tries to sneak down there and get freaky with a date."

"Good thinking," Charlotte said. "She still working on the movie?"

"Yup. She refuses to quit. Though she was knocked for a loop when I told her we're not... together anymore."

"I told mom," Charlotte said.

"Yeah, she said you called her."

"I was hopin' she'd tell me what an idiot I was being, and that I should go running back to you and beg you for another chance, but o' course she didn't."

"What did she say?"

"She said I need to figger' out for myself whether ye'r worth the trouble ... of actually growing up a bit and getting my head out of the clouds. Something like that."

"She said something like that to me too."

"I know you're worth it, Anthony. I know you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I guess it just hasn't hit me yet, you know? It hasn't clicked into my head yet that I actually have a guy in my life that's supposed to change how I act and don't act or whatever. Am I worth waiting around for until I figure everything out?"

I looked at her, and let out a sigh. Already my brain was going gooey, starting to fade into the fog of hypnosis again, slipping back into the waking dream state of sitting right there beside her and just drifting away into the fantasy again. Her eyes were so blue, her lips were so delicious-looking, her voice was so soothing, her face so angelic. I snapped myself out of it and sighed again.

"Do you believe you are?" I asked. "If you believe you are, if you honestly believe you can and will be worth waiting for, I'll wait. But if you don't believe it, I think I'm just wasting my time."

Charlotte took a sip of the drink she had and passed it to me. I sniffed it. Booze. I took a sip. My head was still hurting from the punch I'd taken, but I tried not to let it show.

"I don't know if I'm worth it, but mom says you're gonna be there for me anyway, whether I'm the biggest idiot on earth or not, and that alone should give me every answer I'm looking for. I am in fact an idiot though, so you will have to have patience with me."

"I will. I'm an idiot too though, Charlotte. So have patience with me if I screw up. I'm not perfect either."

"Of course, ba- ... Anthony."

She'd almost called me baby. Then she looked really sad. And she took another drink.

"So the official word then," she said, "if anyone asks: we're broken up, for now, but we still care deeply about each other?"

I shrugged. It sounded good enough to me. I especially liked the way she'd added in for now. It gave me hope.

"If anyone asks me, I love you, but I don't own you. You don't owe me anything, and you're free to do whatever you want."

"Thanks for understanding, Anthony. Now let's go party."

"Charlotte?" I said, as she got up from the stairs.

"Yeah?"

"We still gonna ... do stuff?"

"I think we should wait a few days. Decide then."

Then my damn insecurity flared up again, in the middle of my confident tough guy act.

"You still want to do stuff with me?"

She patted my hand, gave it a telling squeeze, and nibbled on her lip a bit. I got the idea she might have taken me upstairs and fucked me right then if I only said the word.

"Of course I do, Anthony. You may not trust me much anymore, about anything, but you can be sure I never faked anything with you. You rocked my world every time. But it's not about whether I wanna be with you, it's about whether you can stand to be with me. I'm not gonna be comfortable even kissing you if I think you're tasting another man on my lips and not feeling right about it."

She was right of course. It would be at least a few days before I'd healed from the notion that a dirt bag like Vincenzo had even so much as touched Charlotte. I wanted so badly to kiss her again, but there was an invisible wall between us now. That wall would have to come down or things would never be the same again.

"Can I just ask one more thing?" I said.

She didn't look comfortable with it, but she nodded.

"Why'd ya do it, Char? I don't even know the guy and I know he's an arrogant asshole. Why him?"

My voice was almost cracking with emotion. We'd had something so beautiful, and now it seemed to be gone. The realization hit me all over again with the utterance of the question. Why?

Charlotte's eyes fell to the floor. She let go of my hand and placed it on her lap, palm upward. She thought about it. I waited. Why?

"Did you ever have a dream, Anthony, where you do something that you know is stupid, and wrong, and dangerous, but you can't stop yourself? You just watch yourself do it like you're outside yourself, like you're someone else, knowing that shit's gonna hit the fan and everything will be fucked up afterwards, but you can't stop yourself because it somehow supposed to happen that way?"

I had dreams like that all the time. They were just dreams though. In real life you always had a choice, didn't you? I still didn't understand why Charlotte did it. Maybe a part of me didn't want to.

"I don't understand it either, Anthony. I'm sorry."

She smiled sweetly, sadly, and headed back over to her friends.



-------

Chapter 30: Flames


And so the little party went on. I tried my best to join in, to have fun with the friends that were laughing and goofing around all over the place. I even had a couple of young women flirting with me, trying to get me to join in a game of strip poker.

I couldn't do it. There was Charlotte, always at least ten feet away from me, reminding me of everything that was simultaneously right and perfect with the world, and horribly wrong. She was so beautiful. Every laugh, every giggle, every flicker of her eyes, every toss of her hair over her shoulder — it seemed to stab me right through my being and stir my guts with agony.

Guys were flirting with her too, sorta trying to pretend like they weren't but obviously dropping hints about messing around with her. But there I was, always at least ten feet away, reminding her of the perfect little world we'd created together, and then shelved while things got sorted out between us. She'd flick her eyes up at me each time some guy's hand fell to her knee. She'd glance my way each time a guy reached up to rub the back of her neck. She'd laugh and smile and play along with the guy a bit, but there was a sadness in her eyes, a sort of tension, a struggle. Charlotte was not being Charlotte, and that was both beautiful and horrible at the same time. It was tearing me apart.

I'd had a few drinks and was slowly beginning to mellow a bit. Mick insisted, though I didn't really want to. He placed a drink in my hand, and then another, and then another and every time he would clink my glass and knock it back with me, telling me that these were the days we would remember when we were old and gray, good times with good friends. I couldn't argue that.

Janine was considerably sloshed at that point. She was hanging on Mick like she was part of his clothing, and laughing and slurring, and slapping people every 30 seconds or so.

"I'm mot drunk. No may, nam!"

Then she'd giggle, slap her lips for screwing up, and try again.

"I love my boyfriend. Don't you love him, Amphomy? Isn't he awmsum?"

"He's awesome," I said.

"He was inside me," Janine continued. She stopped a passing girl and pointed at Mick. "He was inside me. Nice fuckin' cock."

"I'm sure it was, J."

"It was. It was."

She rubbed her ass up against Mick, and he grinned at me. Then when no one was looking, he slid her pants down a bit and showed me her left ass cheek, a round, smooth fleshy thing that jiggled when she slapped his hand away.

"Stop showing my ass to people!"

"It's such a nice ass though, sweetie," Mick said, massaging it with both hands.

"Okay, it's just Amphumy. He's allowed. Wanna see my ass, Amphumy?"

"Sure," I said, humoring her.

And she turned around and slid her pants off her ass, and gave her butt a smack. Such a nice ass. Charlotte, from across the room, fell out of her chair laughing.

"What the hell are you doing, Janine!?"

"Showing my ass," she replied. She still had her butt showing to the whole room now and apparently didn't even notice. A couple of guys whistled at her. Mick laughed. I gave her butt a little squeeze and tugged her pants back up.

"I wanna show my ass too!" a girl shouted, jumping up from some guy's lap. I didn't know her, but I think her name was Margaret or something. She was a bit of a knock out too, but I'd hardly noticed anyone but Charlotte all night. She turned around and mooned us all, tugging her pants off her ass and gyrating her pelvis in time to the song that was playing. More guys whistled.

Then a third girl jumped up and flashed her caboose to the on-looking crowd. People laughed, cheered, high-fived one another, and clinked glasses. Janine had apparently started a trend. A couple guys mooned the group as well, and then they all started chanting for Charlotte to give it up, even the girls.

She smirked, blushing a little, gave me one last semi-drunken glance, and then obliged. She stood up, turned around, and did a little strip tease thing, grinding to the music as she slowly inched her pants down off her ass. I was dazzled. Even though I'd seen it all close up and personal many times, I was still dazzled. She was incredibly hot. Every move she made lit fires inside me that burned hot and wild, driving me to greater and greater lust. By the time she was done, I wanted to walk up, grab her by the hand and drag her up to the bedroom for a good hard fucking—a punishing fuck. I was angry inside, so angry for some reason. I wanted it so bad, and she probably wouldn't have resisted at all at that point, but the ghost of Vincenzo still lingered in the room. He'd only been there six hours ago or less, and my wounded pride fought off the lust because of it.

But then some guy smacked her on the ass, one of the guys who'd been flirting with her. She shivered visibly, and flushed with a heat I recognized as burning lust. It was a weakness of hers. I knew it. She tried to conceal it, but I could see it in her eyes as she looked down at the guy. He'd unlocked something most guys could only dream of. My guts burned as the two of them stared at one another. Then she shook her finger at him, as though he were a naughty boy, and she sat down again. She was horny now though. I could see it on her like a flame on a candle wick.

"You alright, man?" Mick said quietly to me.

"As good as I can be, considering every guy in this room is dying to fuck my girl, and she's probably gonna go for it."

"You should hook up with someone too, man. She's hot, but she's not the only sexy girl in the room. I'm sure half the girls in here would fuck you in the blink of an eye."

"I would," Janine slurred. She was hugging Mick tight and she grinned at me. Then she turned and yelled out to the crowd, "How many of you ladies would fuck this boy right here, right now, if you had the chance?"

There was a general cheer of female approval, and I blushed. Charlotte only smiled at me though, looking a little glazed over in her eyes.

I clinked glasses with Mick again, and headed upstairs. I hadn't seen Amy in a good twenty minutes and I decided to check on her.

She was in her room. The door was open, the lights were dimmed, but she was in there. Well, not really in her room. She was actually out on the balcony. The curtains billowed inward with a gentle breeze on each side of the patio door. I went outside and saw her standing by the railing looking up at the sky.

"How long you been out here?"

She looked at me and then down into the gardens. She didn't answer.

"Not having much fun, huh?"

She shrugged. I went up to her and put my arm around her. We stood in silence for a moment, lost in our respective thoughts. I believe I was thinking about the guy who'd smacked Charlotte's ass a few minutes before, imagining him mounting her in her bed and sliding himself inside her. I tried to convince myself not to care, but the image clung to my mind the way a burn keeps on stinging long after you've pulled your hand away from the heat.

"I know about the movie," Amy said.

"What? What movie?"

"I went downstairs, just to get away from the noise for a while. All the lights were out, but the studio door was open. I went in and looked and I saw you and Charlotte on the screen, doing stuff. I walked up and pressed play and I saw you coming all over her. I didn't know what the heck it was at first, but then I saw that it was filmed on the bed right down there in the basement. You guys are making some kind of porn movie or something, huh?"

"It was supposed to be a secret."

"I won't say nothin'."

"Where was Sheila?"

"She was asleep in the bathroom. She was sitting there on the toilet with her pants around her ankles, sleeping up against the wall, just dead to the world. Has she been working on that all week? Is that why she's hardly come out of the basement?"

"Yeah."

"It looked really good."

"Yeah."

"I won't say anything. I promise."

"Charlotte's not supposed to be messing around with the cameras. We just wanted to film this thing while her parents were out of town, just for fun, and then erase it. Now we're broken up and everything so I don't even know if I wanna see the finished version."

"So it's official? You guys are done?"

"Yeah," I said. My voice betrayed a bit of a struggle inside me.

"Well, that makes two of us."

"Two of us? What do you mean?"

"I broke up with my boyfriend too. I was just thinking about it actually. It never should have happened in the first place. But I guess I kind of liked him ever since I was little, like in third grade. Weird, huh?"

"Nope."

And she hugged me a little tighter.

"I still want you to be my first," she said, after another moment's silence. I looked down at her. She looked unbelievably cute, unbelievably innocent and naïve, and unbelievably resolved. I almost shivered seeing her look at me like that, like she knew she would be fucking me very soon—it was just a matter of where and when. A breeze blew by and tousled her hair a bit. A strand fell in front of her eyes. Just one strand. She never blinked.

I broke the gaze first.

"You're gonna have to wait, Aims. I'm still a little raw about Charlotte for one thing, and for another thing, I'd probably tear you in half. It seems like a good idea now, I'm sure, but if it was actually happening, you'd probably change your mind pretty quick. It hurts like hell."

"So?"

"So, I'm just saying, there's more to it than the romantic adventurous, sexy feeling you're picturing right now. That's all I'm saying."

"If you don't do it, who will? Some lying-ass prick who just wants to splooge and toss me away. I know how guys are, and that's why I want you for my first, cause you're the only guy I know who's not like that."

Ironic how the one thing that attracted her to me was the one thing keeping her from having me. But people always want what they can't have, especially women, so maybe it's not so ironic after all.

"Too many young girls toss their virginity away to the first guy they like, and then they wind up regretting it."

"So?"

"So, I think you should just think about this for a while. You just met me yesterday, Aims. What if I'm not the wonderful guy you think I am?"

"What if you are? The fact that you're trying to talk me out of it, just proves me right."

"Maybe you just want me 'cause you can't have me."

"I can have you," she said with chilling certainty.

"Oh really? What are you gonna do, rape me when I'm not looking?"

"You can't stand around hurting for Charlotte forever. Eventually you're gonna get horny again, and I'll be right there, on my knees, waiting to give everything to you."

"Once again, you talk tough, but when that pain hits you, you'll change your mind in an instant."

"The more you say that, the more determined I am to do it, even if it kills me."

"Women."

"I'd do it right here and now, if you'd let me. Right here under the stars. I'm not even wearing any panties."

"Really?" I said, raising an eyebrow at her.

She took my hand and slid it into her pants. I felt her tender little slit, hot and damp in the cool night air. She immediately began trembling in front of me, but made no move to pull me away. I massaged her slit, looking her in the eyes. I got the idea she was trying to think of something clever to say, but was at a loss for words. Getting felt up by a boy you adored seemed to have that effect on a young girl.

"I'll do it right now if you want. Right here and now. Wanna stick it in me, in my tight little pussy hole?"

Wow! What happened to the girl who was grossed out by kissing, just that afternoon? I think she was probably quoting a line she'd heard from The Seduction of Lady Chatelaine. I can't imagine she'd come up with something like that on her own. My cock was rock hard though, and my resolve was weakening by the second. I think she could tell too.

"I'm all nice and wet," she said. "Feel that? It'd go right in." And so she was. Her crevice was slippery with oily arousal. I doubted it would go in as easily as she claimed though.

"Me feeling you up does this to you?" I asked.

And she whispered, "Just looking at you got me like that. You rock my world."

"I can't even get my finger in. How the hell do you expect me to get my cock in?"

"I can take it."

Again her resolve was almost scary. And then when she ground forward on my hand and my finger almost did pop inside her, her eyes flashed with pain, and girlish fright. I snapped out of it again. My dick would rip this poor little thing in half! She had no idea.

I pulled my hand away and gave her a hug.

"Maybe when you're older."

I let her go and walked away back into the party. I had to go check on Sheila.

"You're gonna be my first!" she told me as I went through the patio doors.

I was not happy when I got downstairs again. The first thing I saw was that several of the kids had paired off into couples and were making out hot and heavy on the couches and chairs. And then I noticed that Charlotte and that guy were gone. I stood there burning once again, clenching my fists, wanting to beat the hell out of someone, wanting to just stand there and cry. But I did neither. Instead, I went and got another drink.

They're fucking! They're upstairs right now, and his cock is stroking in and out of her sweet, delicious little pussy, and she's loving it! And it's not me! And he's enjoying her! And she grinding and moaning and squeezing at his cock with those delicious little pussy muscles of hers!

I thumped my head against the counter.

Get a grip, Anthony! Just let it go. Find someone else, someone hot, and fuck her ass off.

I downed the drink, and took another, my fifth by then, and I was starting to feel pretty out of it. Not falling down drunk or anything, but I was a little wobbly, and a little blurry in the head. After the second drink I headed upstairs to confront Charlotte.

But I stood outside her bedroom door, not even knowing what I was gonna say to her. After all, she wasn't even mine anymore, was she? So if she wanted to hop in bed with another guy, what difference did it make to me? It seemed to make sense logically, but it was still burning in my guts. I just couldn't figure out why.

I slid the door open and saw her. Yes, she was having sex with the guy, well, not quite having sex with him, but he was in her bed and she was licking and sucking on his balls. As I stood there watching, she worked her way up and was suddenly gobbling the length of his shaft into her hungry little mouth. The kid's face collapsed into a dulled stupor of ecstasy. He reached down and grabbed her head. He moaned. About fifteen seconds later, he was coming. Charlotte popped off him in surprise and his come sprayed across her face. He grabbed his dick and jerked himself off, squirting his cream all over her cheeks and chin. I just stood there in a drunken daze, actually trying not to laugh.

"Um ... okay," Charlotte said. "Is that it?"

Apparently it was. His dick was already softening. I actually did let out a little snort of laughter. They both turned to look. Both their faces suddenly changed from amusement to terror, as though they thought I would flip out on them.

I didn't.

"Anthony..."

Charlotte wiped away a dribbling glop of come from her chin and turned to hide her face from me. I just shook my head.

"I guess Vincenzo wasn't enough, huh?"

The kid suddenly got annoyed with me, once he realized I wasn't gonna kick his ass.

"Shut the door man! What the fuck! I'm trying get a piece of ass here."

I suddenly went cold, brutally cold.

"Normally I'd kick your ass just for talking about Charlotte like that. I'd fuckin' throw you through a fuckin' window, you shrimpy-dicked little punk. You don't even deserve to even touch a girl this fine, and normally I'd kick your ass for dissing her like that..."

"But?" he asked, swallowing nervously.

"But she hasn't exactly done much to prove you wrong. Enjoy your piece of ass, man."

And then I walked away.

I didn't feel all redeemed, like I'd just zinged her with the best burn ever. I didn't feel like I'd won, or shown her up, or any shit like that. I just felt really, really crappy. Charlotte did deserve better than that. Why didn't she see it? Why didn't she care? Why was she reducing herself to that kind of shit? I suddenly felt like crying again. Damn booze! Sure ... it was the booze. Blame the booze...

I went into the bathroom, and shut the door. There was the bathtub where we'd made such beautifully sweet love only a few days before. There was the soap I'd used to wash her down with, standing on the edge of the tub in a peach-colored bottle.

I splashed water on my face, trying to clear my head, kinda regretting taking the drinks I had. It was beginning to hit me harder now. I was wobbling back and forth in front of the mirror and everything was getting blurry and spinny. Every time I closed my eyes I felt like I could actually feel the entire planet turning beneath my feet, and I was about to fall over. I took some deep breaths but that made me want to throw up. So I just stood there hanging onto the sink, staring at myself in the mirror. It was weird how much I looked like my father, frowning like that, looking all serious.

"You gave up, dad. You took off. Things started getting tough, and you just left us. I'm not ever gonna give up. Not ever."

Did I just see Charlotte giving some other guy a blow job? I couldn't remember if I'd actually seen it, or just imagined it. I wanted to go back and look again, just to make sure, but for some reason, the solidity of the marble counter seemed like the only thing in the universe that wasn't tilting and spinning at that moment. I had to hang on.

"She's just in a movie, that's all. She thinks it's just a movie. And I'm playing the part of the guy with the broken heart. Hey. That rhymes."

I'm not sure how long I stood there, but after a while the party started getting louder. I was supposed to take care of things, not let it get out of hand. I suddenly had to get out of there.

Where was Amy? Where was Sheila? Were kids trashing the place? I didn't know. All I knew was that I had to get out of there.

I stumbled out and leaned against the wall behind the door and looked around. The hallway was dark. I wanted to sit down right then and there and cry my eyes out. I didn't even know why. I was confused, and angry, and terribly sad. And my knee was hurting for some reason. I must have banged it on something and not even noticed.

"Need another band-aid, Sheila. Need another band-aid for my knee." My voice sounded funny, like an opera singer delivering a line, except all off key.

Down the hall, sitting on the floor across from Charlotte's door, was little Amy, crying her eyes out. What the fuck?

I moved to walk toward her but everything spun. The room tilted and I bumped into the wall. Then it tilted the other way and I almost fell down. Everything was a blur except for a small tunnel of vision right in front of my eyes.

"Amy? Wha's wrong, girl? Wha's wrong?"

Except it kinda looked like there were two Amys. I shook my head and then there was only one of her again.

"Anthony! Don't come over here!"

She jumped up and stood in the hallway to block my path. Tears were flowing down her cheeks, but she looked desperately determined. And really very afraid.

"Wha's wrong, girl? Wha's wrong?"

I fell into her. I giggled drunkenly, even though I'd knocked her on her ass. I stumbled over her sprawled legs and fell onto the floor in front of Charlotte's door. It was closed all except for a crack.

Amy grabbed my leg and tried to pull me back, away from the door. I was too heavy.

"Anthony! Don't!" she said. "Don't look! Don't!"

"Wha's wrong, Aims? Wha's wrong?"

And I reached out and pushed open the door.

Charlotte was on her bed, on her back, surrounded by guys. It looked like there must have been eight of them. Maybe ten even. One was on her, inside her, pumping her, grunting and sweating. And she was covered in come. It was all over her, on her stomach, on her tits, on her face, on her neck, on her thighs, in her long beautiful hair. She was covered in it. The room stank, rank with the smell of sex. I could smell it from the hallway.

They're raping her! This is a fuckin' gang-rape! My first thoughts screamed, and suddenly I was ready to kill every single last one of them. Literally kill them! End their lives with my very hands. I started to get up off the floor, ready to scream a thunderous barbarian holler of doom.

But then the guy pulled out and added his cum to the mess on her face, and right there and then Charlotte finally broke my heart for real, once and for all. I'd thought I was shattered before, but right at that moment she finished me off.

"Come on, baby! Give it to me!" she said with that sexy little half-giggle. "Make me forget that I ever even had that stupid fuckin' relationship..."



-------

Chapter 31: Rain Cloud


The fight went out of me. The life seemed to go out of me as well. "No..." was all I could say, and not even very loud. I looked over at Amy and saw the tears in her eyes. She looked shattered as well, terrified. And she'd tried to protect me from it. She knew. There were two of her staring at me though. It looked weird. I shook my head and then there was only one Amy again. Then there were two again. I squinted. My eyes. Something wrong with my eyes. Maybe this was a delusion! Maybe ... I looked again, and saw a cloud of flesh, surrounding Charlotte. I saw her cum-smeared hand pull another guy from the crowd and guide him between her thighs. He entered her, grinned, chuckled at the pleasure of it.

"So fuckin' tight! Oh my god!" he said.

"Like it, baby?"

"No..." I muttered again, squeezing my eyes shut as though that could make the image go away.

I somehow got up onto my feet. I don't even remember it all to be honest. I turned around in a circle a few times, not knowing what to do, not wanting to look in the bedroom but somehow needing to anyway, to confirm that it wasn't some nightmare. Was this the girl I loved, getting fucked by ten guys, one after another, covered in their cum and calling them on like an absolute whore? This had to be a nightmare!

And then somehow I was standing in the living room downstairs. It seems like snatches from a dream; I don't know how I got down there. I tripped and fell onto the back of the couch and my hand landed on someone's ass.

"Whoa, dude!" the guy said. He was fucking some skinny little brunette chick. She blushed scarlet and being caught, but she made no move to hide her face.

"Sorry, man..." I mumbled. "Enjoy your lay."

His ass started thrusting again, and her eyes closed. Her mouth opened and leaned up for a kiss. Then I was fumbling with the front door. I couldn't get it open. When I finally did, I saw rain, thick, heavy rain pouring down like it meant to wash the world away. Everything was wet and the street was misty. I stumbled out into the downpour, and nobody stopped me.

Then I was fumbling with my keys, trying to open the door of my truck to drive home, but I couldn't get that open either. I'm not even sure if it was my truck. My arm didn't work either. Something was pulling at my arm every time I tried to put the key in the lock.

"Fuck!" I yelled, but my voice was drowned out by the sound of rain. I finally gave up and turned toward home on foot.

It was a long walk. I don't even remember the walk really. I know it's about 20 minutes' walk when you're sober, but it must have taken me 90 minutes stone cold drunk. I kept falling into people's bushes, and something kept pulling at my arm. I'd get up again, and stumble a little further, through wet sloppy puddles that soaked right through to my socks. And then I'd fall again.

Finally I found myself at my front door, soaked to the skin, and shivering like a wet cat, and the door swung open. The house was dark. My keys were in the lock and I don't even know how they got in there.

I went to the phone first, and tried to phone Sheila's house. For some reason I got the idea in my head that I needed to warn her about the rain. The phone kept hanging up though, before I'd finished dialing. I was soaking wet and my fingers were slipping off the buttons, and the damn thing kept hanging itself up. Finally, I noticed it wasn't even plugged in any more.

"Charlotte," I said into the phone, "go out in the rain. You'll get all clean in the rain. Go out in the rain."

Then the phone was pulled from my hand, and I rolled around on the floor for a while.

"I gotta piss. Why am I all wet? What happened?"

Then there was thunder from outside. I was tugged toward the bathroom and I found myself pissing to end all pisses. It's a wonder I hadn't pissed my pants on the way home there was so much of it. The bathroom was dark except for a light on in the hallway. The toilet magically flushed itself, and I giggled again.

"Wow! That's neat. Good job."

I got my dick back in my pants but couldn't get them done up, so I just stumbled out into the hallway again.

I wanted to go to the kitchen and get something to eat, but somehow I was steered toward the bedroom. I felt like I was floating anyway, so I just went with it. I was on a cloud, and the cloud wanted me in bed.

I wandered away into my bedroom and flopped down onto the bed. God, was the room ever spinning. It was crazy. I wanted it to stop. I wanted to get up, but I couldn't. I was too heavy, like there was a weight on me, holding me down. My keys were on my end table all of a sudden and I don't even know how they got there.

"How'd you get here, keysies? You werz in the door. I know you were. You can't fool me, keysies."

I heard a cute little giggle. I thought it was them, but that just confused me because, I thought to myself, keys can't giggle. Only locks can.

Then I was laying there and the room was spinning, for the longest time. I wanted it to stop spinning and I kept trying to get up, but my body was numb and I had no strength. It was like I was being held down.

"Wait. This happened already. Something's too heavy. I can't get up. I can't move. Something's on me. Is it that cloud again? I can't see anything. Wait. I can see the clock. Hi, clock! Hi, Clocky. Clocky, clock. You rhyme with cock, clock. Three-hundred inches long, just like me!"

And then I laughed like a maniac. I remember the clock on the dresser said 3 a.m., a three and two zeroes, exactly: three-hundred. Suddenly I was trying to figure out how I'd gotten home into my own bed again.

Then my pants were yanking off me, and my shirt was coming off my head. I felt all tangled up for a moment and kicked. I heard the slap of my foot on flesh, but I felt nothing. I had my eyes shut and it felt like my clothes were yanking themselves off of my frame, one article at a time. Soon I was naked. I just lay there groaning. The room wouldn't stop spinning.

There was tickling on my body. Fingers? Feathers? No, I decided--the wings of a little butterfly fluttering over my flesh, tickling me, relaxing me, making me moan. They went everywhere and I just lay there, grinning and giggling, and moaning sometimes. Then it felt like little licks.

"There's a butterfly's licking me ... Feels nice. Thank you, little butterfly."

Then the tickles were on my scrotum, and fluttering up my shaft, wet flickering little butterfly wings on my most sensitive part. I was hard as a rock all over again.

The butterfly was panting excitedly too. I thought that was weird.

Then, all of a sudden the butterfly melted into warm wet goo, and its pretty wet warmth descended over my cock head. That's what it felt like: ticklish and pretty one moment, and then wet and gooey, all around my cock head the next. That I could feel, just this sudden warm slippery swirling tightness enclosed on my cock. I reached down and felt ... someone's hair. I couldn't lift my head though. I couldn't even open my eyes. I just felt hair on someone's head, and sweet, swirling sucking on my cock. Such a pretty little butterfly.

How did I get naked!? I suddenly realized I was naked all over again. How did I get home from Charlotte's house? Where'd that pretty little butterfly go?

"I like how you melt, little butterfly. It feels like someone sucking on my cock when you melt on me like that."

And then the sucking wetness was gone. The pretty, happy feeling of being inside something slippery and swirly was suddenly gone.

"Swippwy ... swerwy..." I mumbled. "Come back, butterfly."

I reached down, and the hair was gone, the head was gone. Now there was a leg. There was flesh — a waist. There was something pushing down on the top of my cock head Something very wet, but unyielding. I shoved upward in argument of the downward pressure and popped inside some more wetness. Yummy! There was a gasp, and then the wetness was back, all around me, crushing me. I giggled. The tight, wet, squeezing butterfly was back, surrounding my cock, struggling to ... eat it somehow, my mind thought. Pretty little butterfly is trying to eat me up. Something really nice and kissy and sucky, sucking on me so nicely, so ... up and down, oooh!, that's nice!, up and down, little by little, engulfing me, squeezing me so hard, like a wet slippery fist, up and down, up and down, getting deeper, fucking me.

Someone's fucking me ... I think... 

And the tightness took more of me, crushing me, and chewing on me hard with its sweet little toothless mouth. I shoved upward, into that mouth, and felt myself hit bottom. Ahhh! Yummy! So tight, and nice, and yummy! I heard another gasping cry, and someone whispered "Owie, owie! Ow, ow! Fuck!" and I felt hot rain on my chest.

"It's raining in my room!" I said, way too loud. "Why is it raining in my room?"

"Shhh, Anthony. Be quiet."

The sweet, delicious, sucking tightness on my cock had a voice. It sounded an awful lot like Amy.

I finally managed to open my eyes, but all I could see was the clock on my dresser: 3:58. Slippery sweet tight-sucking pleasure was massaging on my cock. But it felt like it was everywhere really. All over my whole being. I was numb and tingly all over and everything felt wonderful. I just laid there and let it happen, wondering every once in a while how I'd gotten home, and how come it was raining in my bedroom, hot salty rain on my chest.

"I love you, Anthony. I'll love you as long as I live, no matter what. I swear it by my own blood. I'll love you forever."

"You sounds like Amy, little rain cloud. Why you sounds like Aims?"

Then the up and down, in and out motion sped up, faster and faster, until it was one wet steady slick pumping sensation along the end of my cock, everywhere at once, without pausing. I heard panting, straining, desperate, almost agonized panting that wasn't me, and I felt more rain falling, and someone called out to god. The sweet slippery massage intensified toward a bursting explosion. I felt like I was upside down, outside myself, tumbling over and over in back-flipping pleasure as my cock was swallowed up in that beautiful tightness, wet and hungry tightness, gobbling me up at a piston's pace. And then I came. I heard a feminine squeal somewhere above me as my cock throbbed hard and thick, and then burst out with its hot stringy spew. I grunted and thrust upwards and shivered all over, and came, and came, and came some more, spurting and growling, and yanking at my sheets as the beautiful tightness squeezed on me, winding down to a slow sweet gyration of sensual massaging, sucking me dry of everything I had.

Then all I heard was panting. I felt even more gooey and numb and I felt like I was drifting away. This must be what dying feels like, I thought. This must be heaven. Then I heard my voice, far away and echoey.

"I made babies in you, little rain cloud." And then I was asleep. That's all I remember. I swear.

Dawn came in the window before I was ready for it. The first thing I remember was the sound of a garbage truck growling, beeping, and generally making a whole hell of a lot of racket outside my window, and when you've had a little too much to drink the night before, noise like that feels like punches in the head.

I wasn't completely hung-over. I hadn't been completely and totally trashed the night before. A lot of the night was foggy, but I did manage to make it home to my own bed apparently, somehow, so I couldn't have been completely gone. And the resultant hangover wasn't completely devastating. It was ugly, but I wasn't wrecked.

I opened my eyes, and saw Amy lying asleep beside me. Then I quickly lifted my head when I realized I was actually in my own bed. What the! How the hell had I gotten-

POW!

The pain hit me as soon as I moved, a thick dull ache that felt like a hammer to the back of my head. Bang! I dropped back onto my pillow and squeezed my eyes tightly shut, willing the ache to dissipate. It did, eventually, and I opened my eyes and lifted my head more slowly, more carefully.

There was Amy, asleep, with her mouth slightly open, her hair stuck to part of her face. She looked troubled. I looked around my room, trying to figure out how I'd gotten there. Damn! Even moving my eyes hurt. It was awful. But little pieces of the journey came back slowly, snatches of flashes of memories; I wasn't sure if I'd dreamed them or if they were real. I remembered stumbling around in the rain. I remembered taking a piss in my bathroom. I remembered fumbling with my keys in the door. I remembered the couple having sex on the couch at Charlotte's, and standing there in the bathroom, and-

Oh yeah. Oh shit. Charlotte. I remembered her being in bed with a whole bunch of guys, or at least seeing a whole bunch of naked guys surrounding her while she fucked a couple of them. I got hot acid in the pit of my stomach at that thought. It hit suddenly, and it burned. I tensed. I felt nauseous. I dropped my head to the pillow again, closing my eyes like a dying man. Had Charlotte really fucked a whole roomful of guys?

Ouch. The memory hurt worse than the hangover. It was vague, a mere blur of flesh, lots of flesh, but it was enough. Charlotte had been fucking a roomful of guys. I remembered it. Well, we were definitely over I guess. Even if she wanted to take me back, which I seriously doubted at that point, I didn't think I would take her back now. It was definitely over. She'd made sure of that.

I stirred around in the soup of my memory, digging deeper, searching for the details. I remembered going out into the hall and suddenly feeling like all the booze hit me all at once. I remember seeing Amy sitting there, looking sad, confused, crying. And then she tried to stop me from looking in Charlotte's room, because there was something ... a bunch of guys fucking her. It was so foggy!

But how had I gotten home after that, and how had Amy gotten there with me? And how—

What the hell!? We were both naked! I flipped the covers off of us and found us both completely bare-assed nude. That's when more of the story hit me. The night before, a few hours before even, I vaguely remember something very tight and hot and wet on my-

I looked down. My cock! It was covered in blood! Oh no! What the fuck!? Amy! You didn't!

My brain was yelling at her inside my skull, and even the idea of loud thoughts hurt my head, though I was outwardly completely silent. But what a shock! Apparently the little trollop had taken advantage of me in my drunken state. Ironically it was her, an underage girl, that had raped me. What the hell was she thinking!? Why!? How!? What the fuck!?

My brain stumbled around like a blind man in an avalanche. What would Charlotte think? What would Ron do to me!? Had my mom come in and seen us? Had we used protection!? Oh my god! What if she's pregnant or something!?

In spite of the throbbing in my head, I sat up and scanned around the room, looking for any sign of a used condom. I didn't see one. I checked my stomach, her stomach, the sheets, the pillows, everywhere in the vicinity for any sign of dried cum. Maybe she'd pulled off me just before...

(I made babies in you, little rain cloud!)

Nothing! Just a whole lot of blood everywhere. Yikes! There was so much blood I began to wonder if I'd killed her or something. I reached over and shook her.

"Amy?"

She grimaced, and closed her legs. I shook her again.

"Amy!"

Her eyes flicked open, and she immediately smiled. It was a troubled, pained smile, but I could see she was happy to see me.

"What the hell happened last night?" I asked.

"What time is it?"

The clock said 8:57 a.m.

"Ah god! I've only been asleep for four hours!" Amy said.

She pulled the covers over her head and disappeared. I pulled them off again.

"What happened last night, Amy? There's blood everywhere! What the fuck?"

I flipped the covers off of her and looked down at her naked pussy. It was a gory mess. I pushed her legs open, and she flinched hard, gnashing her teeth, and almost crying out.

"Ow. Easy!"

"You frickin' fucked me last night, didn't you!?"

"You don't remember?" she said, smiling cutely. It was supposed to be cute anyway. I was honestly too freaked out to be phased by it.

"I don't even know how we got home."

"We walked."

"And?"

" ... And we got in bed."

"And!?"

" ... And I undressed us."

I gave her a look as though to say if she made me say 'And' one more time I was gonna slap her.

She continued, " ... And we did it."

"You did it! I didn't do anything! What did you do!?"

"Shh! You'll wake your mom!"

I repeated, quieter, "What did you do!?"

"I ... got on top of you and got you inside me."

"You can't be serious!"

"You don't believe me?"

"Well, of course I fuckin' believe you, but what the fuck!?"

She looked at me with a worried stare, blinking every once in a while. I think she was afraid I was seriously upset, which I actually was.

"Are you mad?"

"Amy, are you insane!? You frickin' shredded yourself! Look at the blood!"

Her pussy was caked with it, dried blood and sex. It was a mess of gore, like a frickin' ax wound or something.

"I just thought since you weren't pushing me away, and you were hard as a rock, you wanted it too. You were even moving with me for a while there."

"I was drunk, Amy! You think I would have done that in a million years if I was sober!? How could you be so stupid!?"

She shuddered like I'd smacked her. Suddenly a tear spilled out of her eye.

" ... I just wanted you to be my first."

"But I'm supposed to have some say in it too, you know. You can't just fuck someone when they're drunk. If I'd done that to you, I'd be on my way to jail right now. Think about it!"

She was crying silently, not looking at me anymore. I forced myself to calm down, releasing a long sigh and lapsing into a silence of my own. Finally I spoke again.

"I'm sorry if I sound mad, Amy, but it was a really dumb thing to do. Don't you see that?"

"It was the most beautiful moment of my entire life," she blurted out, her voice cracking with emotion.

"But there's blood everywhere! Holy shit, Amy! How can you consider that beautiful? It must have torn you in half!"

"It was beautiful because it was you."

She turned to look at me again, and the strain in her eyes softened, as though she was seeing something magical in my face. She looked incredibly sad though, at the same time.

"Of course it hurt like hell," she told me. "I was bawling like a little bitch all the way through it. It felt like being split in half at the crotch with a flaming chainsaw, but it was beautiful because it was my choice! I chose you. I gave myself to you, my blood, my pain, and my promise, and now I can never take it back. In a way, it was beautiful because it hurt so damn much. It's like the more it hurt, the more the promise means to me."

My anger was fading fast. I was now only mildly bothered by the whole idea.

"You should have waited, Amy. You should have waited 'til I was ready to share the experience with you. It would have been a million times better. If only you'd waited."

"I wasn't sure if I'd ever get the chance again though. The way you were talking, sounded like I'd be lucky if I even got to kiss you again. So I had a chance and I took it."

Crazy fuckin' kid! She was insane! The whole situation was so upside down and backwards that my brain could barely comprehend it all, especially in the state I was in. I almost laughed right then, but then another thought hit me, and I got the burning acid in my guts again.

"Did you use any kind of protection, Amy? Did you have anything?"

"No."

"No!? What if you're pregnant?"

"I can deal with that."

"You can deal with that!? You make it sound so simple, so easy. We're not talking about paying late fees on a DVD rental here. Damn!"

"I'll deal with it, if anything happens. Don't worry about it."

"You shouldn't have to be dealing with anything like that. You're not even 14 for crap sake."

"Can we just let it go? I don't wanna talk about it."

"We have to talk about it, Amy! It's important! This is your frickin' life here. Mine too!"

"If anything happens, I'll deal with it, okay? I don't wanna talk about it."

And she turned away toward the window. I decided to change the subject.

"So what else happened last night?" I asked. "Anything interesting?"

"Just you being a freakin' idiot, talking about butterflies and rain clouds and shit. You were mental."

"Butterflies? What the hell?"

"I don't know. It was crazy."

"So you thought you'd just climb aboard the flaming hot chainsaw of love and have yourself a little horizontal boogie."

"I was vertical actually, for the most part."

"Whatever. You call me crazy!"

"You were. Sexy as hell, even when you're babbling like an idiot, but crazy no less."

"I vaguely remember seeing Charlotte with some guys..."

Amy didn't answer right away, but I felt her tense a bit on the bed beside me.

"Unfortunately that part's true."

Ouch!

"What happened?"

She turned onto her back again, and turned her face to mine.

"Sure you wanna know?"

"I guess so. Might as well put the nails in the coffin."

Amy looked off into space for a moment, remembering.

"Well, I was just heading up to use the bathroom, and then I was gonna go to bed, cause people were like, doing it on the couches right in front of me. I was so sicked out. And then some guy tried to make a move on me and I was like AS IF! He was like seventeen or something, and kinda skuzzy lookin'. So I went upstairs to use the bathroom and to go to bed, but the fuckin' bathroom was locked, and then when I went to my room, these two kids were fucking in my bed. So I went to Dad and Stephanie's room instead, and there was like three people fucking in there! Oh my god! What the fuck, right?"

"So then you tried Charlotte's room."

"Yeah. So then I went over to Charlotte's door, and she was in bed with like these three guys, and I was like, Oh my fucking god! What the fuck! I just stood there staring at her for like-"

"Wait a second! Did you say three guys!? Only three?"

"Yeah. There was one guy like, in her, or ... whatever. You know, fucking her? (Ah fuck, my pussy hurts like hell!) And these other dudes were like, standing right there ... watching it all! There was cum everywhere! Ew! Oh my god! Sick!"

"Only three... ?" I said, confused.

"There was another guy standing there watching for a while, but he left, I guess cause he wasn't getting any."

"I could have sworn I saw like ten guys in there!"

"Ten!? Oh my god! No! There was only three, and only one of them was actually doing her. You couldn't even walk, Anthony! You fell on your ass right there in the hallway. As if you could even see straight. Ten! Oh my god!"

"So it was only three? Are you sure?"

"One in her pussy, and two guys watching, just sort of standing there jerking off, looking like idiots. Maybe she did them after, but I don't know. I left. I think she kinda wanted them to leave, but when you're fucking some random guy, you don't have much room to complain I don't think."

"Only three..."

"What do you mean only!? That was the sickest thing I ever saw in my whole life! I couldn't believe it!"

"That's actually not that bad. I thought it was much worse."

"How in the hell do you figure fucking in front of two guys, covering in come like a whore is not that bad?"

"It could've been ten. Could have been every guy in the fuckin' house, if she was drunk enough."

"So you're actually okay with that!?"

"Well, no, of course not! But I can deal with it at least. I honestly thought it was much worse."

"So screwing ten guys or more at once is wrong, but screwing only three is okay? Are you absolutely frickin' mental?"

Now I finally did laugh.

"Hey, you're the one who raped your way into losing your virginity. Who are you to judge?"

"I did not rape you! As if!"

"What do you call it?"

Amy was a little flustered now, suddenly even more unsure of the situation, suddenly more than a little bit scared.

"If you didn't want it, you would have stopped me! You wouldn't have gotten hard if you weren't turned on, if you weren't okay with it, right? Would you? It wasn't rape!"

"I'm a guy, Amy. Guys get hard from rubbing around in their jeans sometimes. It doesn't mean they want to strip down and make sweet beautiful love to their Levis. You were stimulating me, and I got hard, you kept going, and I came. That doesn't mean I wanted to do it."

Her lip quivered a bit. I wanted to kiss her, but I didn't.

"Guys are so fuckin' confusing! My god!"

She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her gaze toward the window once again, all hmph all of a sudden.

"Don't worry about it, Amy. I'm not mad."

"You seemed like you were loving it, the way you were moaning, and thrusting up inside me..."

"Maybe I was, on some level. I was drunk out of my mind. Who knows?"

"You did love it! Stop trying to deny it!"

"I honestly don't remember, but if I was moaning and thrusting, I guess I did.

I lifted the sheets and looked down at myself again.

"We've gotta get all this blood cleaned up, before my mom comes in here. Did she wake up at all?"

"If she did, I didn't see her. You were loud as hell too. I almost stuffed a pillow over your face."

"I seriously don't know how you even got this thing inside you! You would have had to pre-tear yourself just to get the head in!"

"It wasn't like that. It just popped right in. I got it in the right place, and pressed down, and you all the sudden bucked upwards and jammed it right in me. Rip! Bye-bye cherry. Lickety split."

"Lickety split is right! And then what, you just jammed yourself down the rest of the way and went to town?"

"Something like that."

"How did you keep from screaming?"

"I just focused on the fact that it was you, and somehow the pain made sense, like it was perfectly fine to be shredded down there, because it was you."

"You're the one who's insane. I swear to god!"

"Maybe, but at least I got myself some nice fat cock."

She giggled and her giggle sounded an awful lot like Charlotte.

"Come on. We gotta get cleaned up. And then we gotta go down to Charlotte's and help them clean up over there. I hope they didn't trash the place after I left."

"Mick was still pretty sober. He said he would look after everything, not let anything get out of hand. I couldn't find you anywhere."

"He should have been looking out for Charlotte, not letting her get taken advantage of like that."

"Anthony! How drunk were you!?"

"What do you mean?"

"He was the guys fucking her! Didn't you see him?"

"What!?"

"Sure. Janine was passed out in a chair or something, he was walking around looking after the place, and he wandered into Charlotte's room. I was a little surprised because I was so sure he's madly in love with Janine, but apparently fucking Charlotte is okay or something. I was laughing my ass off. You guys are all insane. I swear."

"You were laughing?"

"Yeah."

"I remember seeing you crying."

"I was laughing my ass off, so hard I had tears in my eyes. Mick came in her face. She went to wipe it away and flicked it on one of the guys who was watching. He started doing this little dance like it was hot acid that hit him or something. It was so funny."

"Come on. We gotta go back there and check on everything."

"Got time for a quick fuck first?" Amy said to me, throwing the covers off of herself and spreading her legs with a struggling smile.

"That's not even close to funny. Let's go."

She giggled again, got out of bed, and limped off to the bathroom, looking like she'd had her pussy kicked right off by a disgruntled mule.

Crazy kid.



-------

Chapter 32: Cleaning up


It was a long walk back to Charlotte's, made even longer by the ache of a strenuous week of physical exertion and emotional stress, and the throbbing of my first ever real hangover. The hot shower helped. A couple of extra-strength painkillers helped. A hot breakfast helped. And the walking itself helped. Actually getting up and moving around in fresh air cleared my head and soothed my mind somehow. It was a beautiful morning.

Amy had a worse time of it of course. She was sort of limping, and flinching every couple of steps. But each time she'd put on this phony smile like nothing was wrong at all and she was just out for a casual stroll.

"What are we gonna tell Charlotte?" I asked.

"Hello, first of all."

"I mean about you. About this."

I pointed at her crotch as she stumbled a bit and flinched again.

"It's not that bad. It just stings and aches. I'll be fine."

"But she's gonna figure it out. She's not stupid."

"Well I'll just tell her the truth. Knowing her, she'll probably just laugh."

"I hope so."

That's about all she said. We walked on in silence listening to the birds chattering and the breeze in the trees.

When we got to Charlotte's we found the place completely spotless. Spic and span even. There was not a dish out of place or a single crooked picture. Everything was exactly as it had been, except for a note on the counter:



Dear Charlotte,

The place was a mess so we spend the morning cleaning. Thanks for having us over last night. It was a blast.

Janine and Mick

PS. We're pretty sure Amy went home with Anthony last night. You can reach her over there if you need to.



"Wow. Those two are awesome," I said, looking from the note to the room around us. The place was honestly immaculate. Amy and I had expected hours and hours of cleaning and such, but apparently it was already done.

"They probably stopped to fuck every five minutes while they were doing it," Amy answered.

There was no longer the same edge of revulsion in her voice though. If I'm not mistaken, I detected a new hint of understanding and camaraderie. She now knew what it was like to want something so badly that nothing could stop you from dropping everything and going after it.

We headed upstairs to find Charlotte. My insides were all tangled and anxious of course. I so badly wanted to see her, just to look at her, see her hair and her eyes, hear her voice again, hear her giggle. On the other hand I was horrified about seeing her. What if she was passed out with three guys in her bed? What if she freaked out about Amy? What if she was pissed off?

Charlotte wasn't upstairs though. Her room was empty. The bed was made, clothes were put away in the laundry hamper, even the wastebasket by her dresser was emptied. There was absolutely no sign of the wild sex party that had gone on up there a mere six or seven hours before. Where was she?

We went by the Lawsens' room. That was clear and clean too. And Amy's room was as clean and tidy as a hotel suite as well. Everything was quiet, like a museum. The whole place had a creepy feeling to it. Not a floorboard creaked. All was still. You could hear the sound of your own breathing, and that was it. Amy sniffed in the doorway beside me. You couldn't really smell anything either. Everything was clean.

"Hope nobody fucked with my stuff," she said.

"I just hope somebody changed the sheets."

"Ew." Amy's nose wrinkled again. Her mouth twisted into a scowl. She wasn't really mad though.

"'Someone's been fucking in my bed!' said the baby bear," I said.

"And they ate that Goldilocks slut for dinner."

"Easy. The only Goldilocks around here is Charlotte."

We checked out in the back yard, via Charlotte's patio. Nobody home. Finally we went down to the basement. If Sheila wasn't there working on the movie, we definitely had stumbled into the Twilight Zone.

Shelia was there, working on the movie. Except she wasn't alone. Charlotte was in the sound booth, sitting on a stool, waiting for a cue.

"Hold on, Char. Anthony and Amy just walked in," Sheila said into a microphone, clicking a button that activated Charlotte's headphones.

"What's happening? Where is everyone?" I asked.

"Everyone went home."

"Mick and Janine cleaned the whole place up?"

"Apparently. God bless 'em. What a freakin' disaster when I woke up this morning!"

"Were you still passed out on the toilet?" Amy asked.

"You saw that, did you?"

"I was gonna wake you, but you looked absolutely exhausted."

"Did you sleep at all, Sheila?" I asked.

"I curled up on the bed for a while. It was hard to sleep with ten different couples fucking in every direction, but I was tired enough. Some guy tried to have his way with me too. I had to kick him in the nuts. Asshole."

"I'm kinda glad I went with Anthony."

Charlotte popped her head out of the booth. I'd been watching her through the window. She sat on the stool, staring down at the floor, fiddling with her nails and her headphone cord, looking so damn beautiful it was killing me inside. She finally got up and came to say hi to us. I suppose she normally would have done that immediately, if she hadn't been feeling as awkward as I was, or more so That comforted me a bit.

"Morning, Aims! Hey, Anthony. How are ya?"

She came in and hugged Amy. I so badly wanted to kiss her. The fact that she didn't come up and kiss me drove burning hot daggers of reality back into me all over again. She was feeling the same way though, no doubt. She glanced up at me and then looked away again, avoiding my eyes.

"Um, guys?" I said. "Amy knows about the movie. She wandered in here last night. She figured it out."

"Uh oh," Charlotte said. Sheila just looked away at the control panel again.

"Don't worry. I'm not gonna say anything. I think it's kinda cool actually."

"This from the girl who thought kissing was gross twenty-four hours ago," I said.

"We're just cleaning up some audio here. Turns out this girl can sing too," Sheila said, nodding at Charlotte. "I heard her singing in the shower this morning and I had a revelation: this movie needs music."

"You sing too?" I said.

"I've been in lessons for 3 years. Daddy insisted."

It was yet another reminder of how little I knew about this girl I was head over heels in love with. It was yet another reminder that we'd only actually met a few weeks ago, and had spent more time fucking than actually talking to each other about ourselves.

"The girl's got some pipes on her," Sheila said. "Yet another reason to be jealous."

Charlotte giggled. My tummy did a back flip.

"So how much longer til the whole thing's done?"

"I don't know. I um, actually had to re-work a bunch of things that weren't working out."

"She won't let me see what she's got so far, Anthony! Make her show us!"

I looked at the fierce gaze Sheila gave me and shook my head.

"I know that look. Nobody's seeing this thing until the whole thing's completely done."

"Well, back to work then. The sooner she gets this done, the sooner we can see it. You guys got plans for today?" Charlotte asked us.

"Well we were planning on cleaning up all morning, but somebody beat us to it."

"I know! Isn't it amazing!? I frickin' love those two! I swear to god!"

"They've saved our asses a few times this weekend."

"Did you see how drunk she was last night!? Oh my god, she was so funny!"

She giggled again. Stop giggling, Charlotte. Oh please, stop giggling. You're breaking my heart.

There was an awkward pause, and I think Sheila saw the way Charlotte and I were just sort of staring at each other in a confused daze.

"Well, back to work," she said.

"We'll be upstairs. We'll watch a movie or something."

"Good plan."

"I have to talk to you about something, Charlotte, when you're done," Amy said.

"You need to talk now? I can take a break."

"No. It's alright. When you're done."

"Okay." And she looked from Amy to me and back again with a bit of curiosity in her eye.

Then we went. Except I had to go into the bathroom for a moment because I felt like I was gonna break out crying. Everything was burning and tumbling and aching inside me. It was hellacious! I got a hold of myself and went upstairs. It's amazing how being in love can be so completely beautiful and horrible at the same time.

There was a wall-sized rack of DVDs upstairs next to the picture of Stephanie. They were, for some reason, sorted into three categories. I wasn't sure why, but two shelves were labeled "Charlotte", and two shelves were labeled "Stephanie", and the bottom two were labeled "Ron". They had about 200 movies each, a regular in-home video store. They were all in alphabetical order too, for each person. Even if the shelves weren't labeled it was pretty easy to see whose shelf was whose. Charlotte had Disney movies, teen comedies, and chick-flicks, Stephanie had tones of action, suspense, and horror movies starring hunky-looking guys and sexy-looking babes, and Ron had all the classics of film-making, from Apocalypse Now to Hitchcock's Vertigo. The funniest part about it though was that some of the movies were on two or three different shelves. Apparently if more than one of them liked a certain movie, they each got their own copy of it. Shawshank Redemption was on all three shelves for example. Disney's Hercules was on both Charlotte and Ron's shelf. And Ron and Stephanie both had a copy of Gibson's Braveheart.

I so badly wanted to sit down and go through every one of Ron's movies one-by-one, but Amy had already pulled three down off of Charlotte's shelf that she was just dying to see. I humored her and we spent the morning watching nerds come of age and get the most popular kid in school by the time credits rolled.

We ate lunch at some point as well, and sat curled up on the couch like an old married couple, with her lying in my lap giggling and pointing, and even rewinding the particularly funny moments to watch over again. It was a nice distraction from the usual mess my mind was in.

Then Charlotte came upstairs. The girls were done the extra audio recording they needed, or so I thought.

"Sheila wants you to go downstairs and fill in a few voice-overs," Charlotte said.

"You'll have to finish watching the end of this one with her."

"Oh my god, I love this movie!" Charlotte said, and she jumped over the back of the couch and dropped in beside Amy. As I headed down the stairs I heard Charlotte reciting the movie lines, and the two of them laughing together. It was very pretty.

They were laughing now anyway. Who knew how Charlotte would react when Amy told her what she had to tell her. What a mess everything was in! How could it get any worse!?

"In the booth please. I just need a couple of lines from you, sir."

Ah, Sheila! Her voice soothed me like rays of sunshine on a man who's just come out of a dungeon. I stopped and gave her a great big hug before she could say anything else. I so badly needed just to hug her, a dear friend. Nothing else seemed to matter at that moment.

"Okay..." she said in a deadpan, questioning tone, slowly lifting her arms to hug me back. "You alright?"

I shook my head no. Tears were streaming down my face all of a sudden. Suddenly I couldn't hold it in anymore. I just stood there crying and holding Sheila and crying, and holding her some more.

"I'll take that as a no then."

"I love her so much, Sheila. I don't know what to do. I'm going crazy. Everything feels like insanity in my head, in the world around me, everything's upside down and inside out and just so fuckin' wrong! It's not supposed to be like this. We're supposed to live happily ever after and ride off into the sunset together."

When I was done babbling, I just stood there crying like a little boy. Sheila just held me, as steady as a rock. I was so damn grateful she was there. I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have her. I would have probably busted out blubbering like a little bitch in front of Charlotte and that would've been pathetic.

"Don't cry, Ant. Everything's gonna be okay in the end. You'll see."

"Thank you," I whispered.

Sheila let me go and went away into the bathroom. I stood there, wiping my eyes with a tissue, feeling a hundred times better about everything. Everything was gonna be okay. I honestly believed that now.

"Okay, here's what I need you to say," she said when she returned. "You ready?"

"Yeah."

I was reading over the scribbles of notes on the desk, trying to decipher where she was at in the production.

"I need you to read these lines I have written here. Don't be too dramatic about it. Don't be too emotional. Just read it like you're telling me something I should already know."

"Okay. I don't remember this being in the script though."

"I've changed a few things. I hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind. I'm sure it'll be cool no matter what."

"To the microphone, please."

I went into the sound booth and sat down. She pressed a few buttons and turned a few knobs and then pointed at me. I read the lines like I was telling her something I think she should already know:

"I'm not gonna live forever. I'm gonna die someday. And when I go, I want to know that I mattered to at least one person in this world. That's the whole purpose of my life..."

Sheila gave me the thumbs up, looking like she was gonna bust out crying. But she smiled instead and waved me away back upstairs. I went, pondering what strange new direction she was taking the movie in.

Upstairs I found Amy and Charlotte hugging on the couch, just holding each other with Amy's face buried in Charlotte's neck. Credits were rolling on the TV screen and they weren't talking. I just stood there watching for a moment. Finally Charlotte spoke.

"So how was it, girl? Is that boy gigantic or what?"

"Hell fuckin' yeah. I can barely walk."

Apparently she'd told her the news. They didn't see me standing behind them there, at the top of the stairs, and not a floorboard creaked to give me away.

"It gets better. It's not always hot ripping agony like that."

"It's weird. Even though it hurt like hell, it still sort of already felt really, really good at the same time, having that great big... Anthony stuffed up inside me like that. I can't even explain it."

"You don't need to explain it. I know exactly what you mean."

"So you're not mad?"

"You know what, Aims, if my little sister is gonna get her cherry popped by someone, I feel a million times better knowing it was him that did it. He'd never hurt you in a million years."

"I know. He's beautiful."

"You really like him, don't you?"

Amy didn't answer.

"It's alright," Charlotte said. "I know exactly how you feel. And then some."

"Do you think you'll get back together with him?"

"I don't know. It's complicated. I want to so badly, but I need to know we're not gonna just keep getting hurt over and over."

"I'm just glad you're not mad me."

"Of course I'm not mad at you. I love you, Aims."

Then there was a big hug.

"I love you too, Charlotte. I'm so glad you're my sister."

The moment passed and it was beautiful. It was beautiful because a new bond was formed that hadn't been there before. It was connected, confirmed, and clinched forever: the two of them were sisters. Nothing would ever separate them as long as they lived.

And that was beautiful because Amy's mother died the next night.



-------

Chapter 33: Unchaining Angels


Charlotte got up after a while to change the movie. The credits had run themselves out and there was some FBI warning lighting up the room in blue.

"What'd ya wanna watch now? Let's watch-"

She stopped when she saw me standing there at the top of the basement stairs. I was just leaning up against the door frame, staring at the way her hair wiggled above her ass as she stepped up to the TV. I snapped out of it though, when she saw me, and straightened up my posture a bit, hoping to look like I'd just gotten to the top of the stairs just before she'd turned around. She wasn't fooled for an instant.

"Heya, Ant. All done down there?"

Amy turned around and looked, as surprised as Charlotte was.

"Yeah. All done," I said.

"Amy tells me you two had some adventure last night."

"She had the adventure. I was mostly just a prop."

"Never mind denying it, boy. You must remember. You must have enjoyed at least some of it."

She winked at me, and nodded toward Amy behind her back, urging me to spare the young girl's ego.

"I remember a very sweet crushing sensation that had me blasting like Old Faithful. It was very intense."

"Well, lucky for you, the dear girl started her period today. Apparently you guys took no precautions."

"I wouldn't have done any of it, if I'd had a choice. That was the precaution I'd planned to take."

"I told her it was a reckless and silly thing to do, but young girls do reckless and silly things sometimes, don't they?"

Amy was staring at me from over the back of the couch, looking like she would die a thousand deaths just to understand how anyone could think I was anything less than an angel in the flesh. The look in her eye burned me in my guts; I was nowhere near worthy of such adoration.

"So you guys are just watching movies up here?"

"Wanna join us?"

I wanted to tell her that the only thought in my heart was to take her upstairs and lie her down in her bed and cover every inch of her in sweet worshiping kisses, but I couldn't. I just forced myself to look away from her and put on a phony smile.

"I gotta run home for a bit. My room's still kind of a mess and I wanna clean it up before my mom gets home."

"Yeah, you should ... go do that," Charlotte said. I stood there for a moment trying to figure out whether or not she sounded sad that I wanted to leave. Everything inside me wanted nothing more than to know she was in as much agony as I was. Somehow that would validate all my feelings. If she was in any pain though, she was doing an excellent job of hiding it.

My gaze slid over to Amy. Amy blinked twice, still looking awed.

"You girls'll be alright? You can call me if you need me."

"We'll be fine. Go on and get your cleaning done, dear boy."

I wanted her to argue with me. I wanted her to beg me to stay. I wanted her to drag me upstairs and tell me she loved me with everything inside her and beg me to take her back, which I would do in a heartbeat, in spite of everything. Foolish maybe, but I was madly in love with her, in the least cliché sense of the term. I felt like I was half insane. Honestly. Which was why I had to get out of there, and in a way, even if she had begged me to stay, I don't think I would have.

"Will you be alright?" Charlotte said. "Honestly?"

No, Charlotte. I feel like I've been ripped in half at the waist and twisted around like an old rag. I feel dizzy and sick and lost and alone, and you're the only cure, but there's poison in the cure at the same time, so I can't win. How do you feel? I hope you're at least a little bit as messed up as I am, because if you weren't, I'd feel even worse. I love you so much it feels like hell burning inside me. Ever been there? Ever felt that?

Yet at the same time, I didn't want her in any sort of hell. I wanted nothing but for her to be happy and free to just be who she was without feeling guilty about hurting me. Who was I? I was nobody. She, in spite of her flaws, was an angel.

You're looking the wrong way for your angel, Aims. She's right behind you.

"Anthony?" Charlotte said again. I'd been staring into space.

"I'll be alright. Take care of each other. Make sure Sheila eats something."

And then I left. The next time I set foot in Charlotte's house, it was to watch the final draft of the movie.

I drove home and sat in my truck in front of my house for the longest time. I didn't really want to go in. Mostly I just wanted to get out of Charlotte's place, away from all the oppressive tension that had built up. So after about thirty minutes I started up the truck again and went for a drive. It felt like the longest drive of my life.

I drove around thinking about everything that had happened to us, from the first day we'd been paired up in English Composition class, until last night at the party. Part of me really wanted to hate Charlotte, for a while there. Part of me wanted to blame her for the whole mess. She was the one who'd fucked Vincenzo after all. She was the one who boned some guy at the party last night. It was all her. I was a victim. I wanted to hate her. But I couldn't. My brain kept going around and around in circles, like a dog chasing its tail. And the thought I kept coming back to time and time again was that Charlotte was only being Charlotte; to expect her to change would be to alter the very thing that I loved. There was poison in the cure indeed.

In the end I decided that it was better for me to let the dream die and let her go back to being who she was, the beautiful, carefree, vivacious and beautiful Charlotte Lawsen, the girl who fucked whoever she wanted whenever she wanted, and had been perfectly happy at it until she'd met me.

In the end, I realized that I didn't own her. To expect her to change would be to claim ownership of her somehow. I couldn't accept that. I liked her better free than simply another part of me.

And so I let her go. Once and for all I let her go. I drove down a busy strip of our city on that Saturday night, all by myself, crying my eyes out once again, but finally resolved. Finally sure about what I was supposed to do, what I had to do.

And then the dog turned around and chased his tail again—I changed my mind again. I loved her so deeply, so strongly, so completely, I couldn't bear the thought of not having her in her life. Her kisses, her touch, her giggles, her hugs, her voice in my ear, her hair on my chest, her eyes staring into mine with so much beauty I felt like I wasn't even alive. How could I let all that go? How could I simply give up? How could I ever love anyone else that much? How would I ever be happy again? She was everything to me, my whole universe, and to not have her with me, to let her go and watch her be happy with someone else, felt like death—worse than death: it felt like hell.

And so I cried some more and went a little madder trying to find some solution? Why couldn't things just go back to the way they were? Why couldn't everything just be perfect forever? Why is life always so full of confusion and pain?

I drove around, going crazier by the minute, crying and sighing, and crying some more, like a man in hell with no way out but different kinds of hell. And just when the blackness of insanity nearly took me, I finally gave up and cried out to God. I actually broke into a prayer to this God fellow I'd heard about, but had never really known. I didn't know what else to do. I prayed asking him to just fix everything for us, so we could be happy again, without either of us changing. I told him I would give up anything, if he would just answer this one prayer for me: if I could have Charlotte, once and for all and forever.

"Please, God. If you're up there, if you're listening, just let me have Charlotte Lawsen. I'll give up anything, if I can just have her love forever and ever."

With tears streaming down my face, bumping my head against the steering wheel over and over again, feeling like my soul was ripped in a hundred different pieces, I said those words.

He answered that prayer that night. He sent an angel and gave us Charlotte's Movie. And Charlotte and I did live happily ever after. But what a terrible price we paid...

I woke up Sunday morning to a ringing phone. It was Janine Best.

"You still asleep, lazy bones?"

"Yuh. Time is it?"

"It's after eleven. Get up! It's a beautiful day!"

"Eleven?"

"How late were you up last night?"

"I don't know. I was just driving around. I came home and did some writing in bed. Is it after eleven? Really?"

"Eleven-fifteen."

"Whoa. I must have been exhausted."

"You coming down here or what?"

"Where? Where are you?"

"We're all over here at Charlotte's. The movie's done. Sheila and Steve are just cleaning up the hard drives downstairs and then we're all gonna watch it. But if you're too tired, you can watch it later."

"I'll be right down," I said.

You've never seen a human being take a faster shower in your whole life. I was practically out again before the water even hit me. I was dressed and down at Charlotte's by 11:35.

There was food on the table. It was a mini party all over again. Music was playing. There was excitement in the air. Janine was practically bouncing off the walls.

"I'm so excited! I'm so excited! This is gonna be so awesome!"

Charlotte was there too, fidgety, but not bouncing or anything. Mick and Amy were stuffing their faces from paper plates. I extracted myself from Janine's hug and walked over to Charlotte.

"Would I be able to talk to you for a moment, Char. I just wanna get some things out before we see this thing. Is that okay?"

"Sure thing," she said.

She got up and we went upstairs to her room. She sat on her bed and suddenly I couldn't speak again. Just seeing her there on her bed was overwhelming my mind ... memories and desires ... memories and desires.

"Come on. Let's go outside," I said.

We opened the balcony door in the back corner of her room and walked out into the fresh Sunday air.

"So how'd it go last night? You gals have fun?"

"We had a blast. Janine slept over. It was just us three girls, up all night watching movies and laughing our asses off. We even slept together in mom and dad's bed."

"Sheila hid in the basement all night?"

"She says she actually finished around four. But she went over and slept the rest of the night away on the bed downstairs. She looks in pretty rough shape, Ant. I think she'll sleep for a week after this is all done."

"I hope so."

"So ... what's up? What'd you do last night?"

"I drove around and around and around, just thinking about everything, thinking, mostly about us, I guess."

"And?"

"I just want to ask you something before I say what I have to say."

"What's that?"

"Are you as broken up as I am about all this? Do you ... love me, Charlotte?"

She swallowed and looked away. Sunshine glittered off the water of the pool, lighting up her face, and she looked angelic once again.

"That's a crazy question, Anthony. Do you really need to ask?"

"I do. At this point I don't even know which way is up or down anymore. I don't know what's right. I don't know how I really feel. Everything's insane inside me. I just need to know how you're feeling, just to confirm some things."

"What things?"

"Like whether I should let my dreams die, or let my self die."

"I don't know what you mean."

"It's hard to explain. But just humor me. Answer the question, okay?"

Charlotte looked from my face, down onto the sparkling ripples on the pool. Then she looked away across the neighborhood. A rustle of breeze played through her hair. Her hands gripped the railing, gripping and relaxing, gripping and relaxing. Then she turned to face me again, but dropped her eyes to my stomach as she answered.

"I do love you Anthony. You know I do. You shouldn't have to ask. I've never been in so much agony my whole life, feeling like a cruel heartless bitch, feeling selfish and self-centered, feeling like I failed at life and lost the one chance I had at happiness and true love, just to feel a dick inside me. And it's not just the agony of hating myself, and knowing I'll hate myself forever if I lose you. It's also the knowledge that I've caused you even the slightest inkling of pain. It kills me inside. It makes me feel like I don't even deserve you in the first place, and never did. I'm a slut. A whore. A tramp. A worthless cum rag who was lucky to even have known you. I can't say enough bad things about myself. Nothing is enough to explain how much I hate myself for hurting you..."

"But?"

"But nothing. I don't deserve you. I never did. I never will. Thank you for the showing me even the shadow of the dream of the happiness I could have had if I wasn't such a goddamn cunt."

"You don't really feel that way."

"I do. I honestly do."

"If you really were that bad, you wouldn't even know enough to know you've hurt anyone. You'd only be thinking of yourself."

She stopped to think about that.

"So I'm only half a goddamn worthless cunt then?"

"Charlotte, stop it!"

"I want so badly to beg you to take me back. I told myself I would be your sex slave forever and ever, bobbing and sucking and bending over and taking it in any way that pleased you, for the rest of my goddamn life, if I could just see that look in your eyes again when you look at me, that look of pure love, with no doubt at all in it. But I've destroyed that now, and nothing I can do can bring it back."

"But that's a contradiction. If you're so convinced you're so unworthy, how could I ever have loved you that much? How could I hurt so badly if our love isn't true?"

"I don't know. I honestly feel half insane over all this."

"I know the feeling."

"So what are we doing here? Why are we going through all this?"

"This is why I wanted to know if you still love me or not? Is there anything to salvage, or are we just gonna end up hurting each other for the rest of our lives, screwing up, judging each other, second-guessing ourselves, just playing the sad depressing game so many people play, of just going through the motions of love, but feeling totally alone deep down inside?"

I trailed off. Charlotte thought for a moment. Then she looked away across the world again, anywhere but at me.

"There was a time when I would have said fuck all this bullshit. Love is for suckers. It's just chains for the weak, so they can feel like they have some meaning to their sad little lives. But not me. I was smarter than that. I was Charlotte Lawsen, wild and free, the queen of sluts."

A tear dropped from her cheek and disappeared into the earth far below. She wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand. Her voice cracked when she spoke again.

"Now I hate her. I hate everything she stood for. I don't even wanna see this movie. It'll just rub it back in my face again. Charlotte the slut. Charlotte the whore. Charlotte the walking cum canvas. It's not who I want to be. It's not me. But it's who I am. That's her in the mirror, staring back at me. That's her in these slutty outfits, talking through these slutty lips, with this slutty tongue. I just want to be someone else. Why can't I just be someone else?"

I watched her standing there crying, feeling numb myself. I'd cried myself half to death the night before. Now I was just dazed. I didn't know what to think or say. So I decided I'd better just deliver the speech I had prepared.

"This is where I'm at, Charlotte. I don't want us to hurt each other either. I'm as much to blame for all of this as you are. You're not wrong about that, when you say you never wanted any of this. You were happy. You were free. You were beautiful. You were peaceful. You liked who you were. You had no problems.

"And then you met me. And I tried to change you. I tried to make you into something you're not. I tried to make you mine. I tried to own you, to own who you are and what you're all about. That's when you started to doubt yourself. That's when you got confused. And the Charlotte I love would never doubt herself. She would never be confused. She's strong and confident and free and wonderful in every way. She makes people happy, just by being with them. She shows guys that they're sexy and desirable and special in a world that makes you feel like you're lucky to even talk to a pretty girl unless you've got a hot car and the latest styles in clothing, and a face like a movie star, and the body of an athlete. You took all that away for them. You made them feel special. That's what you represent. That's what you're all about in this world. You're all about beauty shared with everyone, no matter who they are, the heaven of acceptance. I can't own that. I can't claim that for my own and take you away from the world. And though it kills me, I'm willing to let you go, once and for all, forever, just so you can be happy again, and free, and know who you are, and not doubt it. And I'll look at you from afar forever, and know that there was a time when I had everything beautiful in the world wrapped around me, kissing me, loving me. I can live happily ever after with that. But I can't chain down an angel. You belong to the world, Charlotte. I have to set you free."

"You say such beautiful things to me, Anthony, and no matter how much I hate myself, I almost believe your words, just because it's you, and that makes this even harder."

"You're telling me."

There was silence then. She thought about everything I'd said, and then she looked up at me with those killer gorgeous eyes, full of tears and sorrow and said, "So it's really over?"

And I wanted to change my mind again, once and for all, and throw away the world, and keep her all for myself. But I didn't. She was too damn beautiful. So I said, "Yeah. I have to."

And then there was a tap at the patio door. Janine opened it.

"We're ready to start. We're just waiting for you guys."

"We'll be right down."

Janine closed the door again and went. I turned to Charlotte and hugged her.

"Don't cry, baby. The most beautiful thing about life is that we don't know what's gonna happen tomorrow. We may live happily ever after yet, and look back on all this as just something we had to work through."

"I hope you're right. I really do. Because if I don't end up with you, I'm never gonna love anybody ever again, and it feels really damn good. In spite of everything, it feels so damn good."

I took one last look at her sparkling, shining eyes and let go of her for the last time. And we went back into the house to watch Charlotte's Movie.



-------

Chapter 34: Charlotte's Movie


Sheila had been working on this thing for nearly a hundred hours straight, with only a few hours of sleep in between. So it was no surprise when she told us she was just gonna make a short speech, and then head home to pass out for a week or so, leaving us to watch the final production without her. She looked a mess. Her skin was pale. Her hair was dull and clumpy, unwashed. Her eyes were dark and sunken. But she looked like she was more fulfilled than she'd ever been before. There was something about her that just looked peaceful, and that peacefulness seemed to fill the entire room.

"Well, it's finally done," she said, standing in front of us all in the living room. "It's not exactly following the script we'd originally worked out, but I think it's still good. It says what I want to say, what I think needs to be said, and that's what people make movies for anyway, right? This movie is about Charlotte and Anthony. But it's about more than that. It's about- Well, you'll see what it's about. I don't need to tell you. I'm gonna go now. I'm so tired I feel like I might die. So I'm just gonna go. Enjoy the movie, guys."

But before she left, she stooped and gave me a kiss. Just me. And then she went toward the door. Charlotte stopped her, jumping up and wrapping her in a great big hug.

"Just stay, Sheila. Just stay and watch it with us. You worked so hard."

"I can't. I don't need to. I've seen it a hundred times already. I know you guys will like it. And I'm dead, dead, dead tired."

I got up and hugged her too.

"Thanks for all your hard work, She. Thanks for everything."

She gave me another firm squeeze and then left. Steve put the DVD into the player and Charlotte hit a few buttons on the remote to get the movie onto the big screen. Janine and Mick pulled the curtains closed, dimming the room a bit. Then we pressed play.

The movie began with a black screen for about ten seconds or so, and then, in a quiet, dream-like voice, Charlotte could be heard singing in the darkness. She wasn't singing lyrics, she was just sort of humming a melody with a lot of oohs and aahs, like a nymph in the woods. It was a soft sweet melody that made you think of afternoon sunshine sparking on a rippling brook. Very pretty.

And then text faded up onto the screen:

"If this wasn't real love, I wouldn't be so scared."

"Oh my god..." Charlotte whispered. "That's that thing I wrote!"

The text faded, and there was my face. I was lying on the bed, looking up and to the left. I was looking at something that apparently held me rapt with wonder. It was somewhat slow motion, but not melodramatically so, just enough to make it seem like a memory. The whole shot looked soft and gentle too.

The camera panned over, refocused and there was Charlotte. She was sitting there reading to me, smiling, and shuffling through papers, just looking like an absolutely beautiful teenage girl, doing homework or something. (The papers she was reading was actually the script. You couldn't really see exactly what it was though.) We could only be seen from the shoulders up, but it was fairly evident that we were actually nude. I'm not sure how Sheila did it without actually showing our bodies, but somehow we just looked naked. Naked, and completely happy.

The singing continued. Then Charlotte's voice faded up.

"It's funny how someone can become a part of your very soul, and you barely remember meeting them. When was the very first time you saw them, said hello, touched their hand? Did you know then that they'd change your entire world? No. Because once your world has been changed, everything else feels like a dream..."

(That was a line from our original script, one of the first few lines on page one.)

Charlotte's voice over continued:

"But the only thing that matters now is that he's helping me to discover the real me, who I really am deep down inside, and that makes me feel more alive than I've ever felt before."

(That was one of the last lines from the last page of the script. It was supposed to be the conclusion, but Sheila moved it to the beginning. It worked perfectly.)

Charlotte, the real Charlotte beside me on the couch, suddenly broke out into tears. I glanced over at her, and then back at the movie.

Suddenly on-screen Anthony sat up, rushed forward, and kissed her. The camera blurred a bit, but then the focus reset. The kiss was deep, passionate, and dripping with obvious love. It looked gorgeous. Our eyes were closed, our mouths were open, and you could see that we absolutely adored one another. And Charlotte continued her sunshiny song far away in the distance, echoing like a memory. Then her voice-over continued:

"... he simply loves me; he makes me feel beautiful, without saying a word. He makes me feel like all the craziness inside me doesn't matter, and for the first time I begin to understand what normal is supposed to feel like."

(That was from the middle of the script somewhere.)

And then Anthony turned her and laid her down, hovering above her. The shot cut to a close up of his eyes, staring down at her with wild-looking awe and desire. Then he was kissing her again, and this time you could see a full-length shot of the two of them on the bed, him on top of her, completely naked. Her thighs parted and lifted to wrap around him, and they kissed. Her hands tousled his hair, running down his back, caressing him with loving attention to every little detail of his form.

(I still talk about it in the third person to this day because somehow it didn't even seem like me up on that screen. It was too beautiful to be me.)

Another interesting thing about Sheila's new cut was that so far she hadn't shown anything more graphic than a kiss and a caress. But now you could see Charlotte reaching down between them, taking a hold of his erection, and guiding him inside her. You couldn't actually see it go in, you couldn't even see their privates at all, but you knew it was happening. There was a change in their facial expressions that told of some shocking pleasure they suddenly felt. Their breathing quickened and their whole beings seemed to swell. The singing faded down a bit more and suddenly you could hear their panting. There was a close up of Charlotte's face. Her eyes were wide and dazzled, her mouth was open, gasping with trembling breath. Somehow you got a sense of the size of him sliding into her, stretching her around his hot ticklish penetration, simply by her reaction. Her mouth opened wider and wider, into an expanding O, and her eyes brightened, dilated, and glassed over with emotion. Then you could see his face, and he looked even more messed up than she did. He looked like he was near tears, and in complete ecstasy at the same time, plunging down into some slippery snug heaven that you could vividly imagine based on the look in his eyes.

Then I heard his voice come into the movie. It really was surreal, because it didn't sound like me. Do I really sound like that? Apparently I do.

"Love makes you wonder about things you never wondered about before. Love makes you inhale the fragrance of the world like a flower you never even knew was there, right in front of you. You think that maybe it's that love that's all the beauty in the universe, but it's not. It's just that love woke you up, and now you're actually seeing the world for the first time, and it's beautiful. Everything's beautiful."

(This was from the script of course, and it was supposed to be dialog I was having with the Jen character as we made love. Sheila had altered the context a bit and suddenly it was me talking to the audience.)

The shot cut to a view from behind him and above them. It was an odd angle, sort of beside the corner of the bed looking down at his body moving on top of her as they kissed and cuddled. Once again, it showed nothing more graphic than his butt and Charlotte's knees rocking up and down on each side of him, her little feet sliding up and down the backs of his thighs, but somehow that made it a thousand times hotter. You could hear Charlotte moaning now too, louder and more energetic. Not whorish or anything, not screaming like a porn star, but obviously really, really enjoying his thick hard cock deep inside her. You could tell it was deep, deep down inside her by the way his back arched and his ass tensed each time he thrust. And she moaned like she had something very hard, very deep inside her too. I got chills from the sound of her voice. Goosebumps rose on my flesh and I shivered. She sounded so damn hot it was almost scary.

"Do I really sound like that?" Charlotte whispered on the couch beside me.

"Yes. You do," I said. "But somehow it sounds even more... real."

The love making continued. Different angles were shown, but the majority of the shots were all of their faces, their hands, close ups of their eyes and their mouths kissing. The pure eroticism of it I realized, the thing that was turning me on the most, was not having super close-ups of his dick plowing in and out of her, all graphically shoved into the camera. It was the reaction shots, the looks on their faces as they enjoyed each other's pleasure. It was the motion of her rocking back and forth on the bed beneath him. You could see his dick thrusting in and out of her without being shown. You could see that it was big and hard and deep, and pumping steadily, hitting all the right spots and making her moan and shiver and shudder and tremble beneath him. You could see that her pussy was wet and tight and hot and squeezing on him by the way he smiled that drunken happy smile every once in a while and suddenly closed his eyes and he tensed above her. It was the most graphic, hardcore, dirty, sexy thing I'd ever seen, and Sheila hadn't even shown a single flash of genitals. It was deliriously hot.

I looked around the room at everyone's face and saw that I wasn't the only one who was amazed. Every single mouth was open, every single eye was wide and staring, every single jaw was dropped, and I can only assume that every dick was hard, and every pussy was wet, and every mind was humming with desire. And yet it wasn't raw lust like you get from porn, the base need to fuck something as soon as possible. It was desire and awe. The two on the screen weren't using one another like objects. They weren't pumping and bumping and moaning like actors. They were actually enjoying the sheer bliss of sex purely for its own sake, feeling every sweet tingling ecstasy from every little inch of motion against one another's flesh, and expressing it in their reactions.

I barely even remember that moment; it seemed so long ago and far away at that point, after everything that had happened since, but there I was, making love to Charlotte, the girl I'd been hopelessly in love with at the time, and she with me, and we were stroking on, apparently oblivious to all the world except one another.

There was another shot of Charlotte's face, over my shoulder. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open in sweet rapturous pleasure, and I finally understood what Charlotte had been telling me all along about how when I have sex with her, I'm actually making love to her. It took Sheila showing me myself in the act before I finally understood what that really meant from an outside point of view. It was beautiful.

And then they were coming. He went first. You saw something change in his gaze, in his rhythm, and suddenly he was simultaneously the most powerful man and earth, all muscle and tension and thrusting power that ground hard into her as he peaked, and he was as weak and helpless as a little baby at the exact same time. And then she was coming as well, and she clung to him like he was all the universe, grinding up against him as though she needed to devour him, his very soul, with her motions, as though she were somehow touching his very life force and that was the source of her ecstasy, and he was all hurricanes and earthquakes and thunder and chaos coming inside her, and she was just hanging on for dear life, in absolute ecstasy. It was all over her face ... so beautiful...

And yet I don't even remember shooting that scene. When did we do that? All I remembered was pulling out and coming all over her every time, trying to get good, well-lit shots of my ejaculations onto her hot blushing flesh. When did we shoot this one?

But there it was, on the screen. I stared in awe and suddenly realized I was squeezing someone's hand. It was Charlotte. She was holding my hand as she watched. She was squeezing my hand as though she would blow away in a storm if she didn't hang on for dear life.

The motion slowed and the panting faded to a heartbeat sound. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump. The shot zoomed slowly in to Charlotte's face pressed into his shoulder, her hair all a mess and yet somehow still gorgeous, looking all fucked and rumpled like she'd just had the orgasm to end all orgasms. And then the scene blurred to a wash of flesh color and the suggestion of sexual motion in the background. It looked like Charlotte rolling him over onto his back in slow motion and going down on him, but it was so blurry it could have been anything. The heartbeat sound continued and words appeared on the screen, fading on from the blur of intimacy:

The truth is, though I seem confident on the outside, and I try not to let gossip bother me, deep down I'm as insecure as anyone else.

Those words faded out and were replaced with a second block of text:

I'm just a scared little girl in a woman's body. I know I've made mistakes in my life, but you proved to me that I can be loved fully and unconditionally... 

Those words faded and then we saw:

I swear you'll always be the happiest man on earth if I can help it... 

And then the blur cleared and we saw Charlotte on the screen going down on her enraptured lover. The shot was from behind her, at an angle once again, looking from over her left side, at the back of her head, bobbing and swirling up and down on him while he looked beautifully drunk, ecstatically happy, and desperately in love in front of her. His hands were spread out palms up on the bed on each side of him, as though he were surrendering, giving up trying to figure out how he could have gotten so lucky.

And still you couldn't see anything more graphic than sensuous motion and beautiful reaction. A teenage girl was giving her boyfriend head on the screen, licking, sucking, and slurping on his cock with her hot, slippery little mouth, and somehow it wasn't the slightest bit dirty or obscene. It was actually very pretty to look at. It filled you with desire without burning inside you. It made you want more without making you feel frustrated and manipulated. The Playboys in the attic used to make me feel almost angry when I was younger, feeling cheated, having my own lust used against me with no resolve. But this was different somehow. I can't even explain it, but it was porn that made you feel almost peaceful inside, like everything was right with the universe because those two on screen were lovingly pleasuring one another, and somehow, as strange as it sounds, you felt like you were part of it.

Charlotte's lover climaxed and she took it without releasing him. Once again he was wound up with all the energy of a bomb, almost agonizing to look at in the tension of his building climax, and then he suddenly released it all in spasmodic shudders, jerky upward thrusts into her mouth, and a long whimpering sigh that faded into a low sexy growl. The girl whimpered and sighed as he filled her mouth with his adoration. You could see her arm moving up and down as she stroked and milked him, but you never once saw his cock, or her mouth receiving it. Yet somehow that was perfectly okay. It was actually freakin' hypnotic. She bobbed and wiggled and wound her head around and around and up and down and back and forth until he collapsed back into the pillows in complete repose, almost dead-looking he was so relaxed. The heartbeat sound slowed. Her bobbing slowed to a stop and she pulled off of him. The ecstasy subsided into bliss and the boy caressed her face with a loving hand as she laid her cheek down on his tummy, hugging him as though grateful for the blessing of even being in the same room with him. She closed her eyes and swallowed. Then began kissing his tummy.

"I don't remember filming this," Charlotte whispered. "When did we film this?"

"I don't remember it either," I added.

"I do," Steve said. "It was Thursday."

"You guys look so totally in love. I wanna cry!" Janine said. I'd forgotten she was even here.

And then you saw Charlotte straddle him, leaning over his body, positioning his erection, and then sinking down and sitting upright as his cock eased into her. Once again, it was only motion and reaction, no graphic penetration. You couldn't even see her breasts except for the side of one of them and part of her nipple. But that didn't matter. Her hair hanging down her back, the curve of her waist, the sensuality of his hands running up her body, the arch of her back, the wiggle and swirl of her pelvis on his—that said it all. And the moan she made when he plunged up into the very top of her. Wow! I got chills again.

Then she was riding him, and the point of view switched back and forth between shots of him looking up at her face, and her looking down at him on the bed. The camera seemed to move in the same rhythm they were and it almost felt like it was you having sex with them as you watched. There were long, stalling shots of him, lingering on his eyes, his smile, his happy drunken flinching grins as she hit a sweet spot on him now and then. And then the shot would cut to her, her face, her eyes, her mouth open and panting, loving the feel of his size inside her. Then there was a shot of their actual pelvic connection, from Anthony's point of view. You could see Charlotte's kitty peeking up at you from beneath Anthony's lower belly, you could see that she was down on him as far as she could take him, swirling and grinding on him, enjoying him fully, but you still couldn't see any actual privates. It was absolutely delicious in its artistry; the two of them were fucking on screen without showing any more flesh than you'd see on someone walking down a beach in a bathing suit.

Then she fell down onto him, crushing her breasts into his chest and kissing him, and you saw the curve of her ass pumping up and down on him, digging him in and out of her with slow swirling bouncing motions. But the real heat of that moment was the kiss. They practically inhaled one another, as though feeding off of each other's very breath. And then Charlotte spoke to him from the depths of her ecstasy.

"Oh god! You're killing me, boy. I'm dying inside. It feels so good..."

And the tone of her voice further reinforced the sense of participating in their shared ecstasy. When she told him it felt so good, you could almost feel the pleasure of his big hard cock grinding in and out of her. It dripped from her very words.

(That line was supposed to be said as part of the script where Fiona and Jen were finally fusing together as one being, but in this new context, it worked perfectly as well. It could not have been more perfect in fact.)

There was another reaction shot of me, looking up at her, looking flushed and flustered and intoxicated with pleasure, and Charlotte's grip on my hand tightened once again, almost to desperation. I glanced over at her and saw tears flowing down her cheeks and an almost panicked look of fear and longing in her eyes.

Then there was more text, blocks of words fading up from a blur of sensuous ecstasy as Charlotte increased her pace and held his hands, interlacing his fingers with hers as she wiggled and wriggled around upon him, stirring him around inside her sweet tingling ecstasy.

You seem to fit me like you were made for me.

Everything about you is pleasure. It's all heaven to me.

And then:

Having you is turning me into what I'm supposed to be in this world. I didn't know what that was, and I was crazy scared about it most of the time. I still don't know exactly, but I know you're mine, and that's everything that matters.

That faded, and then:



I am wrapped up inside you in every possible way;

the world is solved like a puzzle in the zero-gravity of being alone with you at the center of the universe.

You are the center of me, and all around me at the same time.

I am complete.



Now Charlotte was weeping openly, not even trying to hide it. I heard quiet sobs coming from her and she pulled my hand to her cheek to hug it to herself. I felt the wetness of her tears on the back of my hand, and the heat of her face. I looked over and saw once again that she, with the tears in her eyes of an utterly shattered heart, was the most beautiful girl on the face of the earth. She could barely see straight anymore, but she continued to watch, as did we all.

The scene faded up from the blur of spiraling ecstasy in the background as Sheila cycled through every shot she had of us fucking one another in every possible position, all in rapid, out-of-focus succession, until the spinning sensation stalled on a drifting shot of Charlotte and I lying side by side, staring into one another's eyes, looking completely and totally peaceful and happy together, as happy as two human beings could possibly be. And then Charlotte's voice came on again in her final voice-over, a line from the end of the original script:

"I guess love is really about finding yourself. Everyone feels so lost and incomplete because they're running around trying to be someone else, trying to be good enough, pretty enough, perfect enough, trying to make someone fall in love with them, just so they're not alone.

"But the reason we feel alone to begin with is not because we don't have love. It's because we don't like who we are in this world. We're afraid of ourselves deep down inside. And if we don't like who we are, all the love in the world won't make us feel better. If we're afraid of ourselves, we'll never feel complete, no matter who we have in our lives.

"Love won't make you suddenly flawless and perfect, but it'll take away the fear that keeps you from fighting towards it. Love is the path toward perfection, not the destination. You walk it, if you're not afraid, with everyone in your life who cares about every beautiful thing they see inside you. You go all the way to the end with the one person who sees more deeply inside you than anyone else on earth, even you..."

I wrote those words, but I barely even remember doing it. It seems like someone else now. The last line in the movie was one Sheila wrote herself. She'd gotten me to read it the day before:

"I'm not gonna live forever. I'm gonna die someday. And when I go, I want to know that I mattered to at least one person in this world. That's the whole purpose of my life..."

And the movie faded to black with the sound of the heartbeat fading away with the scene, and these parting words on the screen:

May you find love that cures all your blindness, 

and leads you toward the beauty of who you really are.

Then Charlotte's voice came on, singing that song again, that happy, sunshiny song, and a few credits rolled, listing the parts each of us played, including Mick and Janine, along with our initials.

And then there was silence. The movie was over. The room was quiet for almost a minute as we all thought about what we'd just seen. Finally someone spoke.

"Sheila Unger is a goddamn fucking genius!" Steve said.

Nobody else could speak. We were all silently weeping, except for Charlotte who was sobbing like a baby.

Then she turned to me. Her eyes were closed and her head was down. Her lip was trembling. Her hands were shaking badly as well as she held mine. When she spoke it was as though she could barely get the words out over the need to sob, gasp for breath, and maybe even vomit, all at the same time.

"Anthony, please take me back," she said. "I'm sorry for everything. I'll never even look at another man as long as I live if you'll just please say you still love me and you'll take me back. I know I don't deserve you and I know I can never take back what I did. But I know once and for all that it was wrong of me to treat you like that. I'm not confused anymore. And most of all I'm not afraid. The only thing I'm afraid of is you saying no, and knowing I'll have to go the rest of my life with only the memory of being truly loved." Then she slid off the edge of the couch onto her knees in front of me, still holding my hands, still squeezing her eyes shut with her face down, not looking at me. "Please, take me back. I'll do anything. Please take me back. I love you. I'll love you forever. I'll be yours. Everything I am. It's all yours. Forever..."

She dropped her face into my lap and wept, begging me please, please, please, over and over again. She was desperate and broken and begging, everything but bowing down to the floor like a slave at her master's feet. I was awestruck. I hadn't even done anything to change her mind. It was all Sheila.

I lifted her face to mine and kissed her. I kissed her all over her face and then on her mouth. I held her in my arms and cuddled her, with her cheek against my chest. Then I turned her face up to mine again.

"Look at me, Charlotte." She looked at me with her tearful pleading eyes. I looked back at her and said, "I love you. I always have, all through all this mess. If I didn't, it wouldn't have hurt me so badly. But what hurt me most of all, what broke my heart the worst, was you not being you. I swear to god, you don't have to promise me anything except that you'll only ever be you. You're so beautiful, and I want to be part of that. You in love with me makes you even more beautiful. Just promise me you'll always be you."

"I'll always be me," she sobbed like a little girl. "I'll always be me, and I'll always be yours. May I be struck dead if I ever make you cry again. Do you still love me, Anthony? Will you give me another chance?"

She said my name with such longing, such heartbreaking emotion, that I couldn't have resisted in a million years, even if I'd wanted to.

"Of course. Yes, Charlotte. I'm yours. I'll always be yours. Don't ever doubt it as long as you live."

There was no church, no minister, no rings, and neither of us said "I do", but it was at that moment that we were married in our hearts. We were joined together more deeply than we'd ever been before, more deeply than most married people even experience. And it did last forever, though it was not without its bumps. If I had to pick the exact moment when our souls were wed, that would be it. The rest is just technicalities.

My prayer had been answered. Charlotte was mine again. Thank god for Sheila. She'd poured out her entire soul into that little movie and she'd given me back my Charlotte.

We lived happily ever after too. But a whole lot of crap happened to us before we got there.

Within a month, practically everyone on earth had seen Charlotte's Movie.



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Chapter 35: Half Way to Heaven


All told, we must have watched that movie at least six times. Each time it was played we saw some new detail we'd missed the last time, a certain look Charlotte gave at a certain point, or a certain hand gesture, a sparkle in my eye. It was wonderful. None of us were getting tired of watching it either, which was odd, considering it was only a few minutes long—five at the most.

Somewhere in the replays however, we looked up and saw that Mick and Janine were gone. We hadn't even noticed them leave, but they had apparently wandered downstairs for some beautiful love-making of their own. I leaned over, looked down the basement stairs, and saw Janine sensuously bobbing up and down on Mick's erection. They were on the bed with the lights dimmed. I said as much to the remaining folks upstairs and they giggled, sighed, and grinned.

Then we watched it again.

Charlotte was clinging to me like a drowning woman clings to a life preserver. She held my arm tight, kissing my shoulder over and over and over again, shaking her head in quiet awe, and then hugging me tightly. And she kept whispering in my neck, more to herself it seemed, than to me:

"I love you so much. I love you so, so much. Oh my god, I love you so much..."

It felt so good to hear her say that, especially after the near catastrophe we'd come through in our short little love life. I turned every once in a while and kissed her on the forehead. And the movie played on.

"You notice how the pan slows when the curve of Charlotte's waist dips low, and speeds up when it comes to her hip again?" Steve said, pointing with eager fingers at the screen.

I hadn't noticed that, but I nodded. It was a cool effect.

"Sheila did that in editing. The original pan was smooth as butter. I swear! Awesome..."

"Looks cool though," I said.

"Definitely!"

Steve was grinning and talking excitedly, like he was reviewing some famous Hollywood director or something. Amy was meanwhile astonished. She'd only found out we were even doing this thing less than 48 hours before. Now here we were in larger-than-life color. It was amazing to watch. We were all dazed.

Steve was the next to leave. He got up slowly while the credits rolled after a few more reviews and looked over at Charlotte and I. He seemed happy.

"I should get going. Mom's been wondering where I've been all week. Since we're done now, I guess I can go."

"Is everything all cleaned up and reset down there?" I asked.

"Yup. All the footage is on the hard drive here, and all the system settings have been returned to the way they were. I wrote them all down before we started. I cleaned the Trashcan of all deleted files, and deleted us from all the recently used document lists. Everything's clean. I even moved the cameras back to point in the same directions they were pointing before we started. I think Janine even washed the sheets, just in case."

"That's awesome, Steve. Thanks, man."

"You're welcome. It was fun."

"So this is the hard drive here? This is everything?"

There was a little white object on the coffee table, about the size of a Kraft Dinner box. It apparently contained the hours and hours of footage of Charlotte and I fucking and sucking and licking in every possible way.

"Yup. We just plugged one of them in before we started and worked off of it. Then we just popped it out and here it is."

"Cool."

Charlotte was kissing my neck now and I was getting mind-boggling little shivers all over.

"I love you so fucking much..." she whispered, not hearing a word Steve said.

"Well, I'm gonna go. Don't be a stranger around school."

He headed for the door.

"Steve," I said.

"Yeah?"

"There are no other copies? Just the one DVD and the hard drive?"

"That's all Sheila made, as far as I know. You'll have to ask her."

"Kay. Cool. Thanks man."

"Nice to meet you, Amy," Steve said. And then he was gone.

Amy was watching the movie again, rewinding and replaying Charlotte's final speech about how love is really about finding yourself. I watched her watching it. She looked entranced, like she was sitting at the feet of some prophet, hearing a message from God or something. Then she'd rewind it again, and play it once more.

It was after the third time that I finally noticed she wasn't even really hearing the words. Up on the screen was a shot of me smiling happily at Charlotte, and leaning over to kiss her on the cheek right as Charlotte said " ... no matter who we have in our lives..." and the camera panned down Charlotte's curves as my hand slid slowly off her shoulder and down her waist to her hip. " ... love won't make you suddenly flawless and perfect but it'll take away your fear..."

Amy was watching my hand on screen. Amy was watching my eyes. Amy was watching my smile. She didn't look sad or upset, but she didn't look happy either. She looked like she was seeing something, something I'd missed. It made me curious.

"Getting' tired of staring at us yet, Aims?" I asked.

She slowly raised her palms to her cheeks and slapped them onto her face as though finally getting something. What though?

"Look," she said. "Don't you see that?"

"See what?"

My hand was caressing Charlotte's chin now. Then the camera did a slow zoom into our faces.

"What do you see, Amy?" Charlotte asked. Now she was curious too. She turned away from my neck and looked at the TV. Amy looked at us like we were both blind and crazy. But then her confused look faded and she just stared at us for a moment, sitting there on the couch, almost on top of one another.

"What?" Charlotte asked after a moment. "What do you see?"

"Nothing," Amy said. "It's just a really nice movie."

But there was a tear in her eye all of a sudden. What the hell?

"You okay, Aims?" I asked.

"I'm alright. You know what? I get it now. It all makes sense."

"What!? What do you get?" Charlotte said. "You're confusing me!"

"Me too."

"Don't worry about it," Amy replied. "Everything's gonna be okay in the end."

Funny. That's what Sheila had said.

"So why are you crying?" Charlotte asked.

"I don't know. The movie's just so beautiful I guess. You guys are beautiful. It all makes sense now."

"I've definitely missed something," I said.

"Yes you have. But it's alright. I think you were meant to miss it. I think she knew. I think she planned it that way."

"She? You mean Sheila? What did she plan?"

"Never mind. It's alright, you guys."

But she was still crying. Not sobbing or anything, but tears were flowing down her cheeks. She was smiling, nibbling her finger, looking awed, awed at some secret Sheila had planted in the movie that everyone except Charlotte and I could apparently see.

"Alright, if you insist. Maybe we'll figure it out later."

"Maybe you never will. It's alright though. It was meant to be."

"Okay..." Charlotte said, raising an eyebrow and scanning my face to see if I knew what the hell was going on. I didn't.

"I'm gonna go upstairs and call my mom. You two probably want some privacy anyway."

"What I really want is to watch this movie a few more times," Charlotte said. "I'm feeling like an idiot here, not seeing something that's obvious to you."

"Just look at how beautiful you two look. That's all you need to know."

"I still don't get it," I said. "But we'll figure it out."

Amy sighed, long and happy. She just stared at us for a moment more. Then she smiled.

"Sheila is so awesome."

Then she disappeared up the stairs. Charlotte and I were alone.

"Do you have any idea what she's talking about?" Charlotte asked me. She rewound the movie to the part Amy was watching and we both watched it again.

"No clue, Char."

"We do look absolutely beautiful though, don't we? This is everything I dreamed it would be, and a thousand times more."

"It's amazing how she can say so much without even showing any privates or anything X-rated."

"I was amazed! The girl really is a genius."

"Absolutely."

"But what's this big mystery? Are we just idiots?"

"I guess."

"We definitely got a reaction out of Mick and Janine, that's for sure."

"And Steve apparently."

"I'm sure he's rushing home to jerk himself dry of every drop of fluid he's got."

"I'm glad he was so cool about everything."

"Me too."

Then the movie was done once again and it went into stop again. Suddenly Charlotte was lit in the blue light of the DVD player's menu screen. We just stared at one another for the longest time, sometimes smiling, sometimes looking frightened, sometimes sad, but mostly awed.

"I still say you look most beautiful in real life, right in front of me," I said.

"Very same ... me ... much ... feel ... can't even speak though. Sorry."

I leaned in a pressed my lips onto hers. Her eyes didn't close, her lips didn't purse. They were just soft, warm, and accepting, and her breath tasted sweet as honeyed flowers. She whimpered this little half-gasp, squeaky little whimper, as though overwhelmed with awe all over again. She still didn't close her eyes, and neither did I. We just pressed our lips together and gazed, tasting one another's breath.

Then I reached out with my tongue and softly, gently touched the tip of hers. My insides were instantly flooded, awash with every emotion a man can experience in one single moment—fear, desire, gratitude, contentment, hunger, pride, arousal, lust. There were tinges of anger and sadness in there too I think, but they were drowned out in the overall waves of goodness and purity.

And we were barely even kissing. I felt the slightest tremble of her tongue against mine, and mine against hers, barely even perceptible, but definitely there. We breathed and gazed, and sat still. Her hands were on mine, mine were on her thighs. Then she slowly pulled away.

"When we were dancing on Friday," she said. "I honestly thought it was all over. I've never felt so horrible in all my life. I thought I'd lost that thing you do to me forever. I thought I'd killed it. I was trying so hard to convince myself that everything would be alright, that I could just go back to being wild and free, but it just felt wrong somehow. Guys kept hitting on me and I was trying to decide which one I might wanna get with or whatever, just to get back to the old me, you know? But everything felt wrong inside me."

"How do you mean?"

"I didn't want to admit it to myself. I didn't want to face the truth, but I eventually figured it out."

"What did you figure out?"

"I figured it out when I was alone, lying in bed without you after that party. Everyone had gone home and I was trying to congratulate myself on getting back to the old me again, but it was like I was talking to a ghost."

"A ghost? What do you mean?"

"I was trying to talk to that old Charlotte, the girl I used to be, but she wasn't there anymore. She was gone."

"Where?"

"I don't know. But I think she's locked outside, on the other side of that big black door."

"I remember that big black door."

"Me too. And I think that thing with Vincenzo, and the guys at the party here, I think that was just me getting suddenly scared."

"Scared?"

"I don't know how to explain it. But just imagine waking up one day and discovering that everything you thought you knew about who you were, what you're all about, what you want in life, is all of a sudden suddenly gone, totally and completely gone, and all that's left is this funny little buzzing feeling in your tummy and everything else is blank and dark all around you, and the only thing familiar is this big black door, and that's how you got into this weird scary place. So you open it, just to take a peek, and suddenly everything feels normal again, well, maybe not normal, but at least familiar. So you step through that door again and then you realize that everything that was once familiar and comfortable is suddenly all wrong on the other side of the door as well. So where do you go? Who are you? What makes sense? I had no idea, and I felt like I was going crazy. Every moment I spent without you, I felt lost and scared and unbalanced. And I thought that was a bad thing."

"And then?"

"And then Jade showed up and it was suddenly like Oh my god! Finally something solid and concrete! Something normal and familiar! Something I can see and hear and touch, Jade and this friend of hers ... Looking back now, I can see so clearly what a mistake it was, that I deliberately shut my mind off, ignoring all the screams inside me to stop, to turn back, to run to you and hide in your beautiful little hugs. But I didn't. I just wanted to feel normal again. But normal doesn't exist anymore. And then, after it was done, I thought I'd lost everything. I was half way to heaven and the stairway vanished out from under me."

I brushed her tears away with my thumb, and she pressed her cheek into my hand. We paused, thinking in silence.

"So basically, if I'm hearing you right, you're saying you did all that stuff because I love you too much and it scares the hell out of you?"

"It sounds almost too simple when you put it that way, but the truth may be very close to something like that."

"So what do I do? How do I make you not scared anymore?"

"There's nothing you can do. I'm always gonna be scared of this. But I know one thing's for sure: I'm leaving the old Charlotte on the other side of that door forever. I'm done with her for good. The fact that you..."

And she started crying again. Her voice was choked away. She had to swallow a few times before she could continue.

" ... the fact that you forgive me, that you still love me, that you still look at me that way, and touch me like..."

She put her head into my neck again, and cried some more, hugging me.

" ... I don't know if you'll ever understand how that makes me feel, but all I can do is thank you."

"Thank me?"

"Yes. Thank you, Anthony. For making me feel like I have a purpose in this world, other than pleasuring cocks."

She shivered when she said that. I know she did because she was holding me tight when she said it.

"I thought I was getting more and more lost the further I got away from that old Charlotte, but now I think I'm getting closer to the real me. Does that make any sense?"

"Yes."

"And you made me feel it, Anthony. Every little thing you did. Even the way you danced with me on Friday, when you were obviously ready to die inside. Every little thing you did just confirmed for me more and more that the real me is who I am when I'm with you—that girl you said you believed I could be. I want to be her. And all I can do is thank you so, so much."

"You're welcome."

"You didn't just tell me, like mom does when I'm feeling down; you showed me. You proved it to me. And that feels more precious to me than anything else on earth. I thought I'd lost that, when I danced with you at the dance, but here it is, still here in my arms. I'm the luckiest little slut on the face of the earth. You still love me, maybe even more than before. I'll never understand how or why. I'll never know how much agony I must have put you through, how much of a heartless bitch I was, but I know that you still love me, and it feels like salvation."

"I do love you, Charlotte. I always will."

"The most beautiful thing of all, the thing that blows my mind the most, is that you don't even have to say it. Those words coming out of your mouth are almost meaningless compared to the way I feel just thinking about how you look at me, how you touch me. Does that make any sense at all?"

"Maybe that's what Amy was seeing in the video, the big mystery. She did say it was about how beautiful we are. Maybe she was just seeing how we can say how much we love each other without even speaking."

"Maybe. I don't know. All I know is that tearing myself away from you, even for a moment in the next few days is gonna feel like agony."

"I definitely understand that."

"And yet I still feel loved. It's totally tripping my mind, but I feel like part of you is here with me in my heart, and always will be. So I can go into another room, or another house, or another city even, and I'm not afraid, because I know you love me, and your love for me is right here in my tummy, no matter where I go. I'm not afraid anymore. And that's why I honestly believe I've left that old, insecure attention-whore Charlotte behind for good."

"And so the movie comes true. You're not afraid of who you are anymore."

Then Charlotte suddenly got serious again.

"Do you believe me, Anthony? Do you honestly believe me?"

"Believe you about what?"

"That I'm done with the old Charlotte forever, that I don't care if I ever even look at another guy again as long as I live, that I'm yours and yours alone, forever?"

"I know you feel that way right now, and that's about all that matters."

"In a way it doesn't even matter if you believe me, as long as you stick with me and let me prove it to you, week after week, month after month, year after year. I'm yours, everything about me. You own me. You own my pleasure. You own my beauty. You own my every thought. I don't know how else to say it, but I just feel like making you happy for the rest of your life is the very food of my soul."

"That's beautiful."

"It feels beautiful. It feels peaceful. It feels right. It feels like I've finally discovered who I am."

"Well don't get too lost in me," I said. "I kinda really like who you are on your own. I don't wanna be loving just another version of myself."

"I'll try my best, but being lost in you is the only place in the universe that feels right. I wish that I could crawl inside your soul and wrap up in you like a blanket, and hide away in you for the rest of my life."

"Well, if you feel that way, it probably means that you already are."

"Yes," Charlotte said. "You're right. I already am wrapped up inside you. I feel wonderful."

Can you read my thoughts, Charlotte? Can you hear the voice of my soul?

Charlotte looked up into my face, and then kissed me.

"We better grab Amy and go get mom and dad. Their flight arrives in like 90 minutes."

"I feel like I haven't seen them in a year," I said, sighing with excitement at seeing Stephanie again.

"It's been a long week," Charlotte replied.

She got up off the couch, ejected the DVD and gave it to me.

"You better take this to your house. I don't trust any of my hiding places around here."

"Sure thing."

I picked up the hard drive and the DVD and slid them into my backpack by the door.

"Amy's finally gonna meet her dad. That's gonna be quite a moment, huh?"

"For all of us."

"Let's go get her."

Amy was crying like a helpless baby on her bed though. As soon as we heard her we rushed to her side and hugged her, both of us.

"Oh my god, what's wrong, baby?" Charlotte asked.

Amy let out a few more long, heartbreaking sobs, holding onto my forearm with all her strength.

"I just said goodbye to my momma. I just said goodbye. 'Goodbye, momma. I love you so much.' Why do I feel like I'm never gonna see her again?"

Amy cried some more. And goddammit, I felt like the most miserably selfish bastard alive, but at that moment all I could think about was my mom, and how she'd cried her eyes out like this the night my father left us many years ago. Suddenly I wanted to hug my mom too.

"We're gonna go meet dad now, Aims? Are you excited about meeting dad?"

Mom and dad had been fighting. I'd run from the house, jumping over fences and bushes, and kicking over garbage cans as I ran top speed down the lane. And it was somewhere in that wrathful sprint that I'd scraped myself on a fence picket. Sheila found me hugging my legs with a bleeding knee and she'd gotten me a band-aid.

When I got home, dad was gone, and mom was sobbing like a helpless little baby. I haven't seen him since. I wanted so badly to give my mom a hug right then.

Amy let out one last piteous whimper and then cried out to the universe, from the bottom of her soul, in a shaky little voice.

"Please wait 'til I get there, mom. I just wanna hug you one more time."

Sometimes God answers prayers. Sometimes he doesn't.



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Chapter 36: Making it up


I phoned my mom a few minutes later. My mom was okay. She was just wondering if I'd be home for supper. I said I'd call and let her know, but probably not. Charlotte said that her parents usually celebrate after a business trip and that there would be food and drinks flowing like a king's banquet. She said this to Amy, but I got the idea that I'd be included as well.

Before I hung up I got the strangest urge to tell my mom that I loved her and I missed her, but I couldn't make the words come out. I don't know why. All I said was, "See you later, mom," and then goodbye. After I hung up I sat there wanting to call back too, but I didn't. She knew where I was and trusted me to look after myself. That was a nice feeling.

Charlotte was acting kind of weird over the next while. I'm not sure why, but she seemed to be all nervous, and at the same time, all giddy and excited. I gather it was the stress of the weekend, added to the idea that Amy wasn't doing well, added to the idea of Amy finally meeting her dad. I guess that can kind of frazzle a girl's nerves. It was weird to watch though, because Charlotte was normally completely poised and unflappable, even when things were getting to her deep down inside.

"See ya later, Mickie! Lick ya later, Jeanie!" she giggled.

Janine hugged her big, and they exchanged a kiss that had us boys raising our eyebrows. Mick and I bumped fists and they headed out the door.

"Don't you just love them!?" Charlotte said after the door closed. "I hope they're together forever."

I grinned at Charlotte but she looked distracted and far away again. Amy's gaze faded away into dreamland as well. She noticed me watching her, and yanked her knuckle from her mouth. Charlotte grabbed her arm.

"Come on, Aims! Let's go change!"

Then I realized something else weird. It occurred to me that maybe Charlotte was acting completely normal, still the same girl I'd always known, but now I knew her a lot better, now I could see through her attempted cover-up and pick up on her deep down insecurity about the whole situation. I watched her bouncing around and babbling to Amy about every little thing that popped into her head and the more I watched, the more I became convinced that I was right—I'd finally penetrated Charlotte's mask. She just seemed so worried, but above that she looked like she didn't want anyone to know she was worried, so she talked fast and excited and bounced and giggled a lot. When I'd first met her, I only saw the bouncing and giggling. Now I saw the heart behind it. Charlotte was terrified. Of what though?

The girls were getting dressed. They were in Charlotte's closet helping Amy pick out something to wear. She was down to the last few scraps from her own suitcase and needed something new. The shopping she'd done with Janine hadn't helped either apparently, not for the kind of impression she'd hoped to make on her dad.

Amy for her part was completely transparent about her nervousness. Her voice kept getting higher in pitch and louder every time she got worried, and then she'd stop herself and take a couple of deep breaths to calm down again. Charlotte would giggle.

"What about this shirt with this skirt?"

"Too short!"

"This one? This is a cute one!"

"No! No skirts! I don't wear skirts! Especially not this kind of skirt!"

(Ouch! Charlotte looked like she'd been slapped.)

"You should just try it on. It might look sexy on you."

I interrupted, hoping to reassure both of them at once.

"You should try it, Aims. I'd like to see you in it, even if it's just for a moment."

Amy looked at me with an almost shocked expression on her face, as though I'd just walked into a change room and seen her completely naked.

"Do it!" Charlotte said. "I wanna see too."

"You can't hide behind baggy black clothes forever, girl."

"Can too!" she said, pouting defensively. But she took the little skirt off the hanger and shut the closet door on me. I was lying on my tummy on Charlotte's bed, watching them with my chin resting on my thumbs. I heard them whispering back and forth in there and I waited with a smile.

"Okay ... wow! Yeah..." Charlotte said. "But we gotta fix up your hair and put some makeup on you too."

"Makeup!? No!"

"Shh! Don't worry. You'll look fantastic."

"I don't wanna look fantastic! I wanna look like me!"

"You'll look like a fantastic version of you!"

Amy whimpered in resignation and Charlotte came running out, closed the door behind her as though hiding a surprise, and grabbed her makeup bag and some hair styling implements. She grinned at me. I rolled over onto my back and just stared at the bed canopy, listening to them argue about who and what Amy was.

"Okay, hold still ... look up, like this ... Yeah ... I just gotta ... there ... wow..."

"This feels so wrong!"

"Wrong!? Why is it wrong to look pretty?"

"I feel like one of those sluts my friends hate, those girls who are all about makeup, and hairdos, and short skirts, and screwing whatever boy comes along. It's just so ... not me!"

"The more I hear about these friends of yours, the more I feel like they wouldn't like me at all. You just described me to a tee, and it makes me wonder what you must think of me."

"Well I know you're not like that. You're with Anthony. You're my sister. The kind of sluts I'm talking about are just, like, so insecure and shallow and stupid!"

"I'm insecure and shallow and stupid too," Charlotte said, dead serious. "But you know what? So are your friends. So are you in a way."

"What!? As if!"

"If you try and tell me you're not insecure, I'll laugh in your face right now. If you were secure you wouldn't worry about wearing make-up and a short skirt for a second. You wouldn't be hiding behind baggy clothes all your life, covering up all your prettiness because your friends think skirts are slutty. And if you weren't shallow, you wouldn't be judging girls you don't even know, just by how they dress. And as for being stupid, well, we're all stupid. We all make mistakes. The best we can do is learn from them and hope the people we hurt still love us when it's over."

Amy was quiet for a moment. I sat there staring at the closet door, thanking God once again that Charlotte was mine. She was so cool.

"I'm sorry, Char," Amy said. "I didn't mean anything against you. It's just what I'm used to I guess."

"If there's one thing I've learned the past couple weeks, it's that we're all still sort of learning as we go, we're all making it up as we go along. Nobody's got it all figured out, and if they act like they do, they're lying. So no worries, sis. We'll just have to make it up as we go together, kay?"

After a silence, Amy said, "Don't stick that thing in my eye, bitch. I'll kill you."

I laughed out loud.

"You look awesome! You shoulda got me to doll you up like this before you went and fucked my boyfriend."

"M'eh. He was drunk out of his mind. He wouldn't have noticed."

"He'll notice now."

Amy didn't reply.

"You still sore, by the way?" Charlotte asked.

"Kinda. But nah. I don't know."

"That's right, you're on the rag. I guess it's hard to tell which ache is which down there."

"Thanks for announcing it to the whole world!"

"Anthony already knows."

"Still! Like, shut up! God!"

"How long does you cycle usually last?"

"Can we talk about this later?"

"Just wondering. If you're gonna fuck my boyfriend again, we should probably plan ahead."

"Oh my god! You did not even just say that!"

"Well, why not? I'd rather you do him than some other sketchy dude. Why? You don't want to fuck him again?"

"No!"

"Well who then?"

"How about nobody!?"

"Well you say that now, but once all the pain goes away you'll start getting that yummy, hungry, feed-the-kitty feeling again. Then what? Turn around I gotta do your hair now."

"Then nothing! I don't know. How am I supposed to know?"

"The first thing you gotta do is quit pretending like that feeling doesn't exist. And then you gotta quit trying to convince yourself that it's something dirty and wrong. And then you gotta just enjoy that feeling. Just enjoy it. It's awesome."

"Sometimes it is wrong though."

"Sometimes, but that's why it's called using your head and not being a stupid little slut. Guys will try to get into your pants, constantly, and they'll lie, cheat, and steal to do it too. Sometimes it'll feel like you're in a bullshit storm and the shit's piling up so fast you need wings to stay above it, but in the end you will be able to pick and choose. Just do it for the right reasons and everything will be fine. You'll probably have an easier time with it than I did."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you're smarter than me."

And Charlotte giggled.

"I'm not smarter than you. I'm just more paranoid."

"Maybe, but I don't see you making some of the mistakes I did with guys. Not in a million years."

"Maybe they weren't mistakes. Maybe they were just lessons you had to learn."

"The difference between a mistake and a lesson is the fact that I have to put up with half the guys in school grabbing at my tits and ass every chance they get, and just expecting me to go ahead and do them whenever they ask, just because I did it the first time. Doing guys like that is a mistake. I used to think that's who I was, but now..."

"Now you're Anthony's."

"Yes. Exactly."

Silence, except for stammered breathing ... Amy I think.

"I wish I had tits like yours though. That would be awesome."

"What? These? Ha! I can't believe you said that!"

I could just picture Amy blushing.

"Well they are! They're so ... huge!"

"Does your mom have big ones?"

"I guess. Kinda."

"Then don't worry about it. You'll get there."

(She did too. By the time she was fifteen she was filling a C-cup bra rather nicely. Not huge, but very nice handfuls.)

"And anyway, it's not how big they are. It's how nice a guy can make them tingle that matters."

"Easy for you to say. Your body is like, totally perfect!"

Apparently girls notice these things too.

"So I've been told."

"I'm not a les or anything, but if I was a guy I'd wanna jump you too. Anthony is so lucky. You're all curvy, and round, and firm, and bouncy. I'm just a little rack of bones. Look at me."

"How many periods have you even had so far?"

"What!? What's that got to do with it?"

"How many? Like ten?"

"No. More like seven."

"Kay. I guarantee you, by the time you hit 20 periods, you'll have just as many curves, and bumps, and bulges in all the right places as I do. This may sound crude, by my dad doesn't have sex with ugly people, and he had sex with your mom, so I'm guessing you've got some very hot genes stored away in your blood, just waiting to come out and say hello. It just takes a while for them to get going."

"So you're saying I'm gonna be a full-out hottie one day, just like you."

Amy sounded doubtful.

"Look at yourself, silly! Except for a few extra bumps and curves, you already are! And then, when those bumps and curves fill in, guys won't even fuckin' notice me."

"I highly doubt that."

"Just watch. There'll come a day when you'll be kinda wishing to be a skinny little bone rack again. As much as I like being pretty and curvy and sexy, there are times when certain guys leer at me like I'm just a vagina on two legs; it's creepy and scary, but it doesn't make me not want to be me I guess. You just gotta be happy with who you are, and hope at least one person out there truly appreciates it."

"Like Sheila said in the movie."

"Yeah, and like mom's been telling me for years too, but I never really got it until I met Anthony."

"He just looks at you a certain way and it makes you feel ... special, like he sees right through you, into your soul."

"You feel it too, huh? You feel completely naked, but then you realize that he's still there, he hasn't run away, and you just feel totally safe."

"Something like that, I guess. For me it's like I just feel protected somehow, like he'd never let anyone hurt me in a million years. But I can see what you mean about the thing with his eyes. He's got killer deep eyes."

Apparently they'd forgotten I was even there. I liked it just fine that way though. They were so damn girly and pretty and sweet, just standing in the closet, two sisters just being themselves, just talking about girl stuff. I lay there quietly listening to them, wondering if they were even talking about me. It was hard for me to think about myself as anyone but plain old me. It sounded like they were talking about some Hollywood hunk or something.

"I remember the very first time I felt like I might fall in love with him. We were in the library at school. He was helping me study and he kept looking at me with that look of his, and I was ready to dive across the table and gobble him up right there, but at the same time I was horribly afraid. I could barely even look at him."

(Funny, I'd felt the same way about her.)

"And then when he first saw me naked ... that clinched it. The way he looked at me, standing there in his bedroom—I just felt absolutely and totally beautiful. Not like with other guys who just looked at me like I was the next hole they would fuck. Anthony made me feel ... beautiful. And then! And then when he made love to me ... oh my God, Aims! You never felt so beautiful in all your life! It was like a dream: every fear, every worry, every doubt and insecurity, just suddenly ... gone. And there was only me and him and the pleasure of him moving inside me. Turn your head a bit, Aims. There. Yeah. I gotta do the other side. But anyway, he actually made love to me. It wasn't just fucking, you know? I swear to god I wept like a little bitch in his arms. I was so embarrassed. But not really, you know, because it was him."

"He called me a rain cloud when I did him. Can you guess why?"

"Tears?"

"Yup. But it wasn't just because it hurt like hell. It was because I felt completely and totally safe with him. It was like, everything that's been wrong with the world for so long suddenly went away in this one magic little moment, and it was just me and him, totally naked, doing something beautiful and secret and special. He was drunk out of his mind, but he was still sweet and gentle and loving in his clumsy little way. Well, except for when he rammed it all up inside me all at once. Just WHAM! And he was all the way in. Oh my god! That almost killed me, but I don't think it would have even gotten in any other way. I was trying for like fifteen minutes before he did that. Then suddenly ... rip! ... and he was in ... all the way in. I'm sure you know how that feels. There was blood everywhere. It was crazy. But when it was over I couldn't stop kissing him, for hours and hours, all over his body."

I don't remember that part.

"Okay. Looks like we're done. Let's see what Anthony thinks."

I turned over onto my stomach again and faced the closet. The doors opened wide and Amy stepped out.

I was honestly surprised by what I saw, but not in the way I expected. I expected to be blown away by how hot, how fuckable, how suddenly Charlotte-like she was, and for the most part these things were true. She did look hot, sexy, fuckable, with her skirt up near her butt, her legs bare all the way down to a pair of calf-high boots, her tummy exposed, her little chest covered only by a fluffy knitted bra/vest thing. Her hair was up out of her face, and her makeup was sexy without being tawdry. She was definitely a little hottie.

But I didn't like it.

She smiled. She winked. She twirled and even wiggled her bum at me. I grinned wolfishly, but it was more to spare her sensitive ego than out of lust.

You see, she did look hot, and sexy, fuckable even. But she didn't look like Amy. She looked like a shorter, thinner, darker-haired version of Charlotte. And that was just somehow ... wrong.

"Doesn't she look amazing!?" Charlotte said.

"She does," I agreed.

"Admit it! You wanna pounce on her right now, don't you?"

"Better not!" Amy said, with a warning glare.

"Well, I do and I don't."

"What do you mean?" Amy said, suddenly self-conscious. She looked at herself in Charlotte's closet mirror.

"Well this is the thing: I adore Amy. I think she's awesomely cute, and pretty, and fiery, and smart, and cool, and funny, and everything else!"

"But... ?"

"But this ... isn't Amy."

I cringed a bit when I said it.

"Well, what I mean is, Ron's never met Amy. He's seen a picture of her and it was probably an old one. He's been imagining what she might look like for days now, and I'm sure he'll love her either way, but the real Amy is that girl I saw sitting by herself in that little black outfit with her hair in front of her eyes, half hidden behind a hoody in the airport a few days back."

"It took a lot of courage for her to dress up like this though, Anthony," Charlotte said, confused.

"I'm not saying it didn't. And I'm not saying it doesn't look hot. I'm just saying, when you first meet your dad, you should look like you, don't you think?"

"She looks beautiful though!" Charlotte said, trying to reassure her sister.

"She does! And I'm not saying she shouldn't try this out more often ... I don't even know what I'm saying. I guess I just want Amy to look like Amy."

I almost said 'and not like a miniature Charlotte' right then, but I stopped myself. That would have crushed Charlotte, and she was already on shaky ground. I was so glad I stopped myself. It was true though. She did look like a miniature Charlotte. That wasn't a bad thing, but it wasn't who Amy was supposed to be.

"He's right," Amy said, staring herself down, and suddenly she stripped down to her panties, right in front of my eyes. I'd had sex with her a couple of nights before, but I'd never actually seen her fully naked. Not like that. She was petite and pretty and beautifully unashamed.

Charlotte just stood there, looking confused for a moment, holding the clothes Amy handed back to her. I worried about her for a moment, hoping she didn't take it personally.

"I just gotta be me," Amy said. "I actually do like the make up, but the clothes and the hair gotta be me."

She went to her room and changed. Charlotte meanwhile put her clothes back on the racks and hangers, looking worried.

"You okay?" I asked, coming up behind her and giving her a hug.

"Of course. I'm just confused. She looked really awesome. I don't get what-"

"She looked like you, Charlotte. You turned her into a miniature you. But weren't you just saying a while ago that we all just gotta be ourselves? That look is beautiful on you. I love it. I adore it! But Amy's gotta be herself."

"Why do I feel like I've been slapped in the face?"

"You haven't, Char. All we're doing is keeping your beauty your own. Amy's got her own beauty."

Charlotte thought about it for a moment, briefly looking like she might cry, but then looking up at me as though figuring out something very important.

"Wait a second! I get it now. Wait, wait, wait!"

"What?"

She sat down on the floor looking stunned. Then she looked up at me, half sad, half bewildered.

"I really am really very goddamn insecure," she said. "Oh my god, I never realized that before!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I was trying to turn Amy into a junior version of me so that when daddy grabbed her up and hugged her, I could feel confident that I'm not being replaced or something. I didn't even realize I was doing it, but then when you said she should just be Amy, I suddenly felt terrified."

"Why?"

"I don't know, Anthony. I don't even know. I still feel it. I just feel terrified."

"You're scared your dad might love her more? That's crazy! You know that's not-"

"No, it's not that. I don't think it is anyway."

"So what is it?"

"Maybe it's not even about my dad. Maybe it's not even about Amy."

Charlotte looked up at me again. She stopped slowly rocking back and forth.

"So what is it then?" I asked.

"This is just another way of hanging onto the old me, I think, trying to prove to myself that it's still valid somehow. This is just me being terrified of change and trying to latch onto one last gasp of the person I used to be. This is that Jade/Vincenzo thing all over again, except with clothes instead of sex. I get it now! It all makes sense!"

"What makes sense?" Amy said. She appeared behind me in the closet door. Now she looked absolutely beautiful. Now she looked like Amy, only more beautiful than ever. She had black jeans on, except they were a normal size, not huge on her. She had a black lacey long-sleeved blouse. Her hair was down again, but not across her eyes—you could still see her make up, her smile, her emotions. She had little black socks too, but she grabbed up the boots Charlotte had given her and put them back on.

"Hope you don't mind. I do like the boots."

Charlotte just stared at her once again.

"Oh my god! You're so beautiful!"

Amy stopped lacing and stared at her, half smiling, half confused.

"I get it now!" Charlotte said again. "You're you. I'm me. You're beautiful. I'm beautiful. That's okay. Everything's okay."

For a moment there I thought she'd figured out Sheila's secret, she seemed so astonished. Sadly, we didn't figure that one out until much later. Charlotte, at the time, was just figuring herself out.

"Okay. I thought we already went over this," Amy said.

"It's alright. I'm just sorta thinking out loud. Everything's wonderful!"

Amy was done lacing her boots she stood up and turned toward me, seeking approval.

"Yes," I said. "You look awesome!"

But I think she already knew that, and that was even more awesome. She gave me a hug and walked out of the closet.

"I'll be waiting downstairs, guys."

I looked over at Charlotte. She still looked amazed.

"You okay?" I said.

She nodded, grinning up into my eyes. Then she bounced up to her feet, wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.

"Thank you, Anthony."

"For?"

"For talking sense into me once again. I owe you big."

"You don't owe me anything. I just-"

"She's gone!"

"Who? Amy?"

"No, Charlotte! She's gone. The black door is gone. The fear is gone! I feel brand new!"

"What, just all of a sudden? Just like that?"

"Just like that!"

Charlotte snapped her fingers beside my ear. Her chest pressed into mine. I began to feel a twitch in my undies.

"Well I hope she's not completely gone. I kinda liked that sexy lil' slut, most of the time."

"Let's just say, the Charlotte that ran off and fucked Vincenzo just so that she could feel normal again is one hundred percent completely gone, forever. The Charlotte that deeply and dearly loved sucking and fucking your cock for every inch of its worth is alive and well."

"That's good," I said. "Very good."

Then she kissed me, and there was something different about it this time. She kissed me like she knew she'd be with me for the rest of her life. She was no longer afraid. She no longer hurried. She kissed me tenderly, gently, but more confidently than she ever had before. It felt like our first kiss all over again. It was intense!

"So you're mine forever now?" I asked.

She nodded, and kissed me again, smiling. Then, as though to reassure my male ego, she leaned forward and whispered into my ear.

"And I can't wait to wrap my lips around your cock again, and show you how truly grateful I really am."

"I ... me ... neither ... can't wait," I stuttered, shivering. Her fingers were caressing my erection as her tongue caressed my earlobe.

"I intend to destroy your mind with pleasure, baby. Mark my words."

Then she released me, and nodded at me, as though confirming her promise once again. I grinned as we headed out of her bedroom and down to the front door.

Amy took Charlotte's arm and offered me her other.

"Everything's gonna be okay," she said.

"Let's go meet daddy," Charlotte added.

And we headed out the door.

It was about that time, about 4:15 p.m., that Amy's mom was receiving her very last shot of morphine in a hospital 700 miles away. Her grimace faded. Her strained breathing steadied to a shallow sighing, and she dreamed of holding her little girl in her arms one last time.

It was about that time that Charlotte's Movie was being downloaded for the very first time from an internet web server in a city about 8000 miles away. It was downloaded by a kid named Ralph in New Zealand. He was supposed to watch it once and delete it, but he'd downloaded it to the public folder of his file sharing program, and while he watched it over and over for the next 90 minutes, seventeen people downloaded it from him.

We lost track of it after that. And we never did find out who had originally uploaded it until after it was all over the world.

All we knew for sure was that it wasn't me, Charlotte, or Amy.



-------

Chapter 37: Seeing Stars


The drive to the airport was quiet. I was in the front, driving, and Charlotte and Amy were in the back seat. Amy was resting her head on Charlotte's arm, and just staring out the window, watching the city pass by. Charlotte was just staring down at the back of the passenger seat, lost in a world of her own. It was deathly quiet in there, and the luxury car we were driving, with sound-proofed interiors, made it even more so.

"Anyone care to hear the radio?" I asked.

Neither of them answered, so I left it off.

We drove on in silence for a while more. Finally Amy spoke.

"So we're going out for dinner straight from the airport?"

"Usually. It's like this special family time we have to celebrate new business deals, make up for time away from each other. Mom and dad travel first class so they're not usually too burned out from the flight."

"Oh."

"Getting' more and more excited, Aims?"

"I was just wondering what to say about me and Anthony. Will Anthony get in trouble if they find out what happened?"

"Probably not. Mom and dad are pretty easy-going about stuff like that. And they like Anthony. They trust him. They know he wouldn't take advantage of you or hurt you in any way."

"Oh. Good."

"But if you'd feel better just not saying anything about it, I won't mention it."

"I'd just wanna get to know them better first I guess."

"Yeah."

"So what do I call him? Mr. Lawsen? Father? Dad? Ron? This feels so strange."

"Just go with your feelings. Just be Amy."

"In this case, I don't know who Amy is. She's never had a dad to have to decide these things. What do you call him?"

"I call him dad, daddy, dadsie, sometimes papa. When he's frustrating me, I call him father."

"What's he like when he's mad? Is it scary?"

"He very rarely gets mad at me or mom. When he's mad about business, it doesn't bother me much. He just gets all quiet and intense. Then mom usually blows him, quiets him down, and he comes back grinning."

"Blows him?"

"Um, you know ... goes down on him, gives him head, performs oral sex, bobs on his knob. It's what women do with their men."

"I know. I just didn't expect you to be so casual about it. You talk about it like it's holding hands, or a kiss on the cheek, or something."

"You'll find you have a lot of adjusting to do with our family. The things you used to think were all gross and perverted are pretty much a common occurrence around our house. You'll get used to it though."

"Doesn't sound like I have much choice."

"Just don't judge. That's all," Charlotte explained. "Just because you're not used to it, doesn't mean it's wrong. Sex is a beautiful expression of love. That cliché was never more true than around our house. There's nothing sick or dirty about anything they do. They're willing adults, and the only thing dirty about it is the judgementalness some people throw at them."

"Judgementalness?"

"We had a maid once that took offense to them walking around naked, stopping to grope, cuddle, orally pleasure one another on a passing whim. She reported it to her boss and made a big fuss. She almost got the press involved. She even suggested that I was being sexually abused by being exposed to such behavior. Dad's lawyer is super smart. He had the company on their knees within hours, and the only way they escaped a career-ending lawsuit was by firing the maid in question and making sure she never worked for them again. That was one of the few times I've actually seen mom angry. She never gets mad. She was mad then though, because this crusty old bitch was attacking her motherhood."

"Wow," Amy said.

"The press did come sniffing around a bit after that, but dad's got friends in the media, and he makes sure no one ever makes a dime off of any pictures or negative stories about us, so even the freelance reporters don't bother with us. For the most part, as far as the tabloid media is concerned, we don't even exist."

"But what if you like, showed up drunk at school or something?"

"I'm not allowed to drink outside our four walls until I've graduated from college. It's a deal I have with dad, and so far, except for a glass of wine with Anthony, I've honored it. And if I have been drinking, I'm not allowed to leave the house."

"Until you finish college? That could take years."

"Booze is no big deal. I don't need it. Even mom and dad rarely touch the stuff. I've only ever seen dad drunk once, and mom holds her liquor like a champion; I've never seen her more than a little giggly. They drink when they do for the flavor of it, for the sensuality of the beverage, not for the alcohol."

"Has your mom ever been mad at you?"

"She was plenty pissed off when I got my tattoo. I didn't bother to tell her. I just went out and did it on a whim. She doesn't approve of tattoos. She said I might as well have cut my ear off, mutilating my body like that. She said tattoos make a woman look whorish. Kind of ironic for a woman in her line of work, but what can you say? I just think it's pretty."

"What does your mom do?"

Charlotte stopped, suddenly surprised, caught off guard by the idea that Amy still didn't really know what the Lawsens' do for a living.

"Um ... I thought you knew."

"It has something to do with movies, right? Is she like an actress?"

"Yeah, something like that. I guess you could say. I seriously thought you knew!"

"I've never seen her in any movies. Is she famous?"

"Yes, in a way."

"What way?" Amy looked up at me watching her in the rear view mirror. Then she looked back at Charlotte.

Charlotte was struck dumb, not knowing how to explain it. Amy kept looking back and forth between us, shaking her head, confused, pouting cutely from behind the last strand of her innocence.

"Amy, do you remember those movies you were watching in the Lawsens' bedroom?" I said.

Amy nodded, still not putting two and two together. She was a sharp kid, but there were apparently some things a mind didn't want to know.

"Well, that's sort of how Mrs. Lawsen is famous. She, um, performs ... in those movies."

Amy's eyes widened, then widened more, then blinked hard, then her mouth opened, then she turned her head as though slapped in super slow motion, then her hand went to her mouth. Charlotte sat silently, watching the realization dawn on her little sister.

"So this is why judgementalness is a bad thing around our house," older sister said.

"The cameras, the drawers full of porn, the studio..."

"All makes sense now?" Charlotte finished for her.

Amy just stared out the window some more, dropping her head back onto the seat.

"Dad's in them too? He's sleeping with-"

"No, no. Dad's like the director, he's the one who puts it all together, kind of like Sheila did with our movie. People call him the Spielberg of porn. He's top quality."

"And they make these things right in the house, right in front of you?"

"Yeah..."

Amy stared some more, still stunned. That invisible slap apparently packed quite a wallop.

"And now you've made your own. So I guess it's old news to you by now."

"Pretty much."

"Well ... Whoa ... That's..."

"Think whatever you want, Aims, but like I said, you gotta get over the idea that it's dirty, wrong, bad, or whatever. It's not. It's beautiful, sexy, fun, thrilling sometimes, and mom and dad love each other more than life itself-"

"Wait, wait, wait! Was my mom ever ... was that how... ?"

You could see the horror on her face. It was almost frightening.

"I honestly don't know," Charlotte said. "I'm guessing if she raised you the way she has, probably not. She may have been just a business contact that they got close to at some point. I don't know. You'd have to ask dad."

"Sorry you had to find out about this now, Aims," I said. "I know this is all hard enough on you, and here you are about to meet your dad for the first time."

"At least now I know the truth. He's seeing the real me. I'm seeing the real him."

"He wouldn't have wanted it any other way. I just honestly thought someone had told you at some point."

"No..."

And we drove on in silence the rest of the way, except now Charlotte was hugging Amy in a warm comforting embrace.

I parked the car in the lot and we sat for a moment, finishing our conversation before heading in.

"So how do you feel, sis? Are you okay?"

"I feel kinda numb actually. The more I think about it, I'm not really surprised at all. I'm just kind of numb."

"Think you can get used to the idea though?"

"I don't know. I don't really have a choice."

"Think of it this way, Aims. This is how I first got used to the idea when Charlotte first told me about it. She's the same girl she was five minutes ago, cool, beautiful, loving, affectionate, encouraging. Except now you just know more about why she's like that. Nothing's changed, except in your own mind."

"Still love me, Aims?" Charlotte said, looking a little wet-eyed. "I can't change who I am. All I can do is love mom and dad and thank them for the beautiful life I have. It doesn't make me a worse person. It doesn't make you a worse person. It doesn't even make them worse people. It's just ... different."

"For my part," I said, "I adore the Lawsens. They're like the coolest people I've ever met, and the more I got to know them, the more I realized that Charlotte was cool because of them. They created the girl I love."

"I know it's gonna take some getting used to, Amy. No one's saying it's normal. But you never met two more loving people in all the-"

"It's okay," Amy said, interrupting her. "You don't have to explain. I understand. I just gotta think for a minute."

We let her think. Charlotte stared at me in silence. I could see the worry in her eyes, the insecurity. I could see that she needed Amy to accept the Lawsens. I could see that she felt the years of pretending to be confident and secure crashing down around her all over again. She wasn't really so sure it was perfectly fine and acceptable, not in the deepest part of her heart. In the deepest part of her heart, there was a constant battle. I could see it now, clearly as I saw the tear threatening to spill from her eye. I loved her so much I wanted to tackle her with hugs. But I just stared in silence.

I understood something else too in that instant: that if Charlotte was this unsure deep down inside, how much more were Ron and Stephanie about their raising of her? That story about the maid must really have affected Stephanie deeply. Charlotte wasn't kidding when she'd said her mom had been mad. When shaky foundations are shaken, dragons awaken.

It was also in that moment that I realized I loved Stephanie too, and Ron by association. They really had done a beautiful job by Charlotte. No amount of money could buy their daughter's respect, love, and admiration, yet they had it. Charlotte wasn't some drunken rich brat, stumbling around from club to club, snorting coke and talking trash about her cold and distant workaholic parents. She was loved, and she loved them. I don't think she even knew how much.

"Okay," Amy said. "I accept that they do what they do, that they're successful at it. It's not a bad thing, not dirty, nasty, slutty, or whatever. It hasn't harmed you in any serious way. You're a beautiful, smart, sexy person that only a few hours ago I was longing to even come close to in coolness. And Anthony loves you too. And he's not stupid. So I guess everything's okay. I just gotta get used to it."

"That's awesome, Aims!" Charlotte said, and a flood of tears that I'd barely begun to understand spilled from her eyes.

"But!" Amy continued.

"But?" Charlotte asked.

"But I can't promise I won't freak out and run away if someone starts sucking my dad's dick right in front of me. That's just gonna mess with my head and there's nothing I can do about it."

Charlotte smiled, content with that.

"I'm so used to it, I actually have to stop and imagine how strange that must be for other families where that doesn't happen on a regular basis. I guess that would be really bizarre."

"In any case, Aims," I said, "I think Ron and Steph are smart enough to know where you're at and they're not gonna do anything crazy. They're not about shocking people just for the sake of it."

Then I changed gears.

"I think, if they had anything to prove, anything at all, if I know them like I think I do, I think they'd just want people to understand how beautiful an open and healthy sex life can be, that guilt and shame are the real perversions in our society, and that it's really all about love, and showing love, and expressing love. That's what they're all about, if I know them like I think I do."

"Anthony's exactly right," Charlotte said, still weeping openly. "I have to remind myself of that sometimes. Like, when I get worrying what people would think of us if they knew the whole truth. I have to remind myself that it's a beautiful thing, something I hope to share with Anthony one day, in our home, when we have one. I've had plenty to worry about my entire life, but the one fear that's never even entered my mind for a moment, is that my parents might break up, and our family would fall apart. I don't think you'll ever understand how beautiful that is, how rare and beautiful a gift that is to give a child, the security of knowing that everything's gonna be okay between your parents until the day they die. So let society judge them. They're the best parents on earth as far as I'm concerned."

Amy stared at Charlotte. I stared at Amy. They both looked amazingly beautiful. I wanted to kiss them both. I also wanted to kiss Stephanie. My every thought of her was that she was the most wonderful woman alive. I was lucky to even know her.

"Whoa! Crap! We gotta get in there!" I said. "5:15 here!"

Their flight arrived at 5:20.

Charlotte quickly dried her tears and touched up her make up. We got out, locked the car and headed into the terminal. A few moments later we were at the arrival gate, waiting for them to come off the plane.

It was like a dream, to be honest. It was all surreal. We saw people begin flowing out of the jet way corridor, but none of them were the Lawsens. Then suddenly there they were, hand in hand, holding a bag each, scanning around for us. Stephanie pointed, then touched her hand to her mouth. I saw her mouth the words "Look, Ron! There she is! Oh my god!"

Amy was shaking. I knew she was because she was holding my hand with all her strength. Her palm was sweaty. Her breathing was ragged. I gave her hand a squeeze, glanced over at Charlotte, and then at Amy. They both looked like they would bust out bawling like babies at any moment.

The Lawsens came down the escalator and walked toward us. It seemed like it was in slow motion too. I kept blinking hard; it seemed to take 20 minutes for them to get there.

Stephanie looked so beautiful it was heart-stopping. Her hair, her makeup, her outfit, her shoes, her motions—they were astonishing, they were perfection. I felt like a little boy all over again. Ron too, was an imposing figure of dark, powerful beauty. His eyes seemed like they were searching us rather than simply seeing us. It was like he could see right through us. I shrank again, from feeling like a little boy, to feeling like a tiny little elf, and yet I also felt as big as the entire airport terminal, like I was expanded beyond my being. I could only imagine how Amy felt.

Their eyes were on Amy though. They closed the distance between us, and stopped in front of us, looking down at her. Ron stopped, put his bag down, snapped a picture of her that made her smile nervously, and then he got down on one knee and held his arms out to her. She let go of my hand and took his, standing there nervously in front of him, shaking visibly.

"Amy," Ron said.

"Hello, Mister, um, dad..."

I expected a sudden rushing, gushing hug right then, but it didn't happen. They just stood there holding hands.

"I'm Stephanie. I guess you saw my picture on the wall."

"Yeah."

"You look just like your mom," Ron said. "It's amazing. She's like a little Julia Prescott."

Prescott. Wow. All that time, I didn't even know Amy's last name. Amy Prescott.

"She looks like you too, Ron. Look at her eyes. So beautiful!"

Amy smiled shy, blushing hot.

Ron got up off his knees, still holding her hands.

"Is there anything I can do for you? Anything I can get you? Anything at all."

Amy shook her head. She looked bewildered by the notion that she actually had a dad, and here he was, right in front of her.

That's when Charlotte stepped up and hugged them both, a massive, crushing, lingering hug that had her swaying back and forth like a flower in a gentle breeze.

"I missed you guys so much. What a week it's been."

"You two back together yet?" Stephanie asked, as though already knowing the answer.

"Anthony is the most wonderful boy on the face of the earth. If I ever leave him it'll be the result of blunt force trauma to the head."

"Lord knows you're a handful," Ron said. "He must be exceptional if he's still standing here looking at you like you're a dream come true."

That's when he reached out and pulled me under his arm, giving me a half hug and tousling my hair a bit.

"I heard about what happened," he continued. "It brought back a lot of memories to say the least. But here you are ... and here's Amy. Hi, Amy!"

"Um ... hi..."

Her voice was small and cracked. She stared in awe, nervously though, like she was looking at him without permission or something.

"Wanna grab the bags with me, Studly Doright?" Stephanie asked. "They'll be coming out of the conveyor any moment now."

"Sure thing."

We grabbed one of those rented carts and talked quickly on way.

"You gotta fill me in, sweetie," she said. "What's she like? How's she doing? How much does she know? How's Charlotte taking all this?"

"Aims is wonderful. We just broke the news to her of what you guys do for a living. She seems to be taking it well. She's a great kid. Very bright. Very observant. Thoughtful."

"What about Char?"

"Char's a wreck, Steph. Dear god, the poor girl's barely keeping it together. She's pretending to be calm and cool-"

"Of course..."

"But inside you can tell she's going down a white water rapid of inner turmoil, heading for a waterfall of total doom."

"You can tell all that, can ya?"

"Yup. I'm learning."

"I'm impressed. Charlotte hides it so well."

"Not really. It's pretty obvious, once you get to know her."

"Obvious to you, my dear, because you're a sweetie. You notice these things. You care. You're not caught up in your own shit, thinking about your own dick, like every other guy she's ever met."

"I'm just me. I've been worried about her."

"You're still her boyfriend. You haven't run away. And you're not going to. I can assure you that's done more for her than anything anyone else has done for her her entire life. If she seems a little odd, it's because she's probably baffled that someone actually loves the real her, the real Charlotte Lawsen, for real, and has proven it. It's a new concept for her, you realize."

"Apparently."

"You're doing awesome, my boy. Just keep doing what you're doing."

"How was the trip?" I asked. "How are you taking all this?"

She smiled at me, as though surprised that someone was actually asking about how she was doing.

"The trip was wonderful. We sealed the deal we went down for. We expect our income to increase by $20 million over the next few years. All's well."

Stephanie sighed, grabbing the suitcases from the conveyor and placing them on the cart.

"As for me, I'm still getting used to all of this as well. I absolutely adore the idea of having another girl around the house, but I know Amy's in for a rough ride over the next while. I'm in an odd position. I want to be a friend, but I'm scared anything I do will be mistaken for me trying to replace her mom."

"How's her mom doing?"

"Not good, Anth. Not good. Doctors don't think she'll last the week. No matter what they do, it's only a matter of days now. I can't even imagine what that poor girl's going through, what she's facing."

"She's holding together just fine so far. Her and Char are getting along great. You'd almost think they were sisters or something."

"I'm so glad. She's gonna need all the support she can get."

We were heading back toward the other three now, but before we got there Stephanie said one more thing.

"Thanks for taking care of everything, Anthony. You're a superstar. Honestly. We owe you huge."

"I care about the crazy kid. What can I say?"

"No, really. You sell yourself short. Ron and I were talking on the plane. He's seriously impressed with you, kiddo, and that's not something that comes easily. Did you see the hug he gave you? You know what he told me? He said he hasn't worried about Charlotte once this entire week because you were with her."

Wow. I was seriously taken aback by that. I got a lump in my throat.

The three of them had moved to a bench near where we'd first met Amy so long ago, or so it seemed. Ron and Charlotte were chatting happily. Amy sat quietly, wringing her hands, chewing her lip a bit.

"Ah, here they come!" Ron said. "We're going out to Davenforth's. I booked out the balcony for us."

"Awesome!" Stephanie said. "You'll love it, Amy! It's on the lake front. There's a beach down there. Best steak and seafood in town. Beautiful!"

Amy smiled. Amy nodded. Her eyes were far away.

"Which car did you bring?" Ron asked.

"Lincoln," Charlotte said. "Lots of room, don't worry."

The next thing we knew, we were on our way to Davenforth's. Music was on the radio. Stephanie drove, I sat next to her, and Amy sat in between Ron and Charlotte in the back as Ron rambled on about the scenery along the route. Amy smiled almost constantly but still had that far away look in her eye. She wasn't shaking anymore. She just looked exhausted. You could see it in her eyes.

Stephanie glanced over at me, smiling. My heart skipped a beat. She even reached over and squeezed my hand, patted my thigh, and then grabbed the steering wheel again to change lanes. The squeeze she'd given my hand seemed to say thanks for taking care of our little girls. You're a superstar.

You're welcome, Steph. It was truly nothing at all.

"Amy, what's wrong?" I heard Charlotte say suddenly. I looked back, startled. Amy was crying her eyes out, just out of the blue, sobbing hard as though her heart would break. "Amy, sweetie! What's wrong!?"

Charlotte seemed terrified. Amy had just all of a sudden started bawling. I was a little scared myself.

Somewhere far away, her mother was breathing her last breath, all alone in a hospital bed. Somehow Amy knew.

Ron wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight, whispering to her. Stephanie turned the radio down.

"Anything you want, my girl," Ron said. "Just name it and it's yours. Anything."

Amy let go of Charlotte's hand and wrapped her arms around Ron for the first time in her entire life.

"Daddy, I want to go home. I don't want to eat. I just want to go home. I wanna see my mom before she dies. Can I just go home?"

"Turn the car around, Steph," Ron said, and pulled out his cell phone. He punched some numbers on the dial as Stephanie pulled over to the shoulder, scanned for an opening in traffic with tear-filled eyes, and spun the car around to head back to the airport.

A voice answered Ron's phone call.

"Yeah, Ron Lawsen here. I need the next available flight back to Kelowna, British Columbia, Canada. No, direct if you've got it. No. It has to be tonight. Can we connect in Vancouver?"

Then he hugged Amy again and spoke to her.

"I'm sorry, my girl. I'm so sorry. I should have thought of that. We'll be back there in a few hours, okay?"

"Momma, don't die ... momma, don't die..." Amy cried. "We'll be back in a few hours. Please wait for me."

"Yes, I'm here," Ron said into the phone. "9:45? No. That's not gonna work. Connect me to Wakefield. We'll charter a jet."

Charlotte's eyes were locked onto mine, tears streamed down her face, her lip quivered every time Amy cried out for her mom, and you know what? For a moment I could read her mind. In that moment, she wanted nothing more in heaven and earth than to hug her own mother and cry like a baby in her arms. She sat rigidly still in her seat though, but I could see it in her eyes. No one had ever wanted anything more in their lives, and yet she sat there, rigid as a statue, an arm's length away from her mother, but it might as well have been a thousand miles.

"Mommy, I love you ... Your little Aky loves you ... Don't leave me."

Aky was apparently the name she'd called herself as a baby.

And we drove on. The journey was a blur. Charlotte stared at me, rigid as a rock, begging the universe to fast forward time so she could hug her mom, her mom who was a mere arm's length away, and not dying. Amy babbled on, crying out her delirious prayers to the universe and finally we got into the airport parking lot again. Ron hung up his phone and announced quietly that he'd booked a private jet back to Kelowna, BC. It would be ready to leave in twenty minutes. He told Stephanie which appointments to cancel, and who to call about which deals were still on, and it was all a blur. I'm not sure how Stephanie remembered it all.

"We'll be home in two hours, Amy. Don't worry we'll be home soon."

We were getting out of the car to get Ron's carry-on from the trunk when the phone rang in his hand again.

"Hello. Ron Lawsen."

He slowed his hurried movements toward grabbing the bag from the trunk. He slowed, and gradually got slower. His eyes were locked on Stephanie's. And I got the idea that in that moment, he desperately wanted to hug her too. It was maddening.

"When?" was all he said, and we all knew what he was hearing.

Amy started screaming at us a few paces away from the car.

"Why are you just standing there!? We have to get home! What are you waiting for!?"

Ron hung up his phone, looking like every trickle of blood had fled from his face. He looked over at Amy.

"No!" she screamed, pointing at him fiercely. "You don't look at me like that! You don't! I know what you're gonna say, and it's not true! I know what you're gonna try to tell me. No! We have to go get on a plane. We have to-"

Ron was crying.

Amy's agony at the sight of his tears was a horrible hell I hoped I'd never have to see again. It was a twisted, insane, agony. She had the look of a girl being slowly stabbed through the heart with an invisible lance, and was fighting with all her being to resist the wound.

"We have a plane to catch and we're gonna go see my mom! We can't stand here by the car all night. We're gonna miss that plane!"

And then the lance pierced through and she cried out with the most pitiful scream you've ever heard in your life. It echoed off the walls of the buildings around us. People stopped to stare. Amy crumbled to the ground, falling onto her hands and knees.

"No! No! No! Not my momma! No!"

So much helpless anger flowed through her, enough power to perhaps destroy a universe, but it was completely useless to change the reality she found herself in. And her angry screams broke all our hearts.

"Amy..." Charlotte said, but it was only a whisper.

The only thought in my mind was how beautiful the little girl looked, alive and screaming out with everything she had, enraged at the universe, willing it all to end in a terrible sudden merciful bang.

A breeze rustled through her hair, but that was it.

It was me who went to her, that little soul, lost and abandoned on the deserted shore of cold cruel solitude. The other's were stunned by the power of the moment and didn't seem to know what to do. I went to her and sat down beside her.

"I'm all alone," she said. "I don't have anyone at all. Whatever I did, I'm sorry! I don't wanna live anymore. I'm sorry."

And then she fainted. I caught her in my arms and sat there holding her face in my lap.

"I love you, Amy Prescott," I said. "Everything's gonna be okay."

But my words were as useless as her anger. She awoke on a plane, 30,000 feet in the air, in a starlit sky, heading northwest toward home, sleeping in the lap of the father she never knew she had, on the way to her mother's funeral.

Charlotte, Stephanie, and I headed home. I dropped them off and they let me take their car home to see my mom.

I can honestly say that through it all, I never cried once. The whole thing just seemed like a dream. It still does. I opened my mom's bedroom door and saw her lying in her bed with half a glass of wine next to her bottle of depression medication, looking so terribly alone as she slept so peacefully, her little feet sticking out of her covers, cold and all alone. I can honestly say I cried like a baby, finally. It all came out right then. I knelt down by the side of her bed, hugged her feet and wept.

"I love you so much, mom. I haven't told you lately, but I love you so much."

Mom never woke up, but I think she heard me. Her cold little feet warmed up in my hands. I kissed them and covered them and headed back to the Lawsens'. Ron was gone with Amy. The girls needed me.

I'd like to be able to tell you that the worst was over, but it wasn't. The death of Amy's mom was merely the first trickle of an avalanche of troubles that nearly buried Charlotte and I completely.

But for the time being, mom's feet were covered and warm and I felt much better.



-------

Chapter 38: Alive Inside


I went to my room and gathered up some clothes. Mom had done my laundry and my clothes were tucked neatly away in their drawers. My bed was made too. I smiled to myself standing there in my bedroom.

My bedroom. The walls seemed close. The room seemed small. I looked up at the ceiling. It was a little more than an arm's length above my head. I took at little hop and touched it with my fingertips. This had been my bedroom for over half my life, and I'd never noticed how small it was. My posters made it look even smaller. The whole room had a crowded, cramped feel. I wanted to get out of there.

I shoved clothes into a plastic grocery bag and grabbed a paper and pen. I couldn't wait to get over to the Lawsens' house. Everything seemed so small and cramped at home.

I wrote a note to my mom at my desk, explaining what had happened and how I was gonna spend just one more night at the Lawsens'. I told her I loved her and that she could call me over there if she needed to. I dropped the note on her night table and gave her one more kiss. Still she never woke.

On the way out the back door, walking through the kitchen, I noticed flowers on the kitchen table that I hadn't seen before, in the dim light of the window. I flicked on the light and looked. There was a note on a card, written in a man's handwriting: "Thanks for the lovely evening. I can't wait to see you again. —Dave"

Dave? Who the hell was Dave? I flicked off the light again and grinned in the dark. Apparently mom had a boyfriend. Suddenly I felt even better. Walking out the door, I didn't feel so much like I was leaving her completely alone.

The drive back was peaceful. I drove with the windows down and the radio off, just listening to my thoughts. In the hours since Amy's collapse, I hadn't had much time to think. We did end up going to Davenforth's after all, though none of us ate much. There was just nothing else to do. We didn't want to go home and stare at the four walls. We picked at salads and the girls talked about how wonderful Ron had been, and how broken their hearts were for Amy. Then, once again not knowing what else to do, we got up and left. I told them I needed to stop home and get some clothes. Steph told me to just drop them off and take the car.

And now I was on my way back again. It was dark now. It was a breezy night and the cool air felt good. I drove along in one of the most beautiful cars I'd ever been in, feeling much better than I had all day.

I pulled into the Lawsens' drive, locked the car and headed inside. There was a note on the counter telling me to lock the doors and arm the alarm. There was even a security code there. The last part of the note instructed me to meet the girls upstairs in Charlotte's room. I went.

The upstairs lights were dimmed and I made my way toward the music in Charlotte's room. There on the bed were the two most beautiful women on earth. They were tucked in, apparently sleeping already. It had been a taxing day.

I crawled into bed beside Charlotte, wrapping my arms around her and kissing her shoulder. She woke up and waved me over her, indicating that I should get in between them. So I did.

Once there, they both snuggled up to me, one cheek on each of my shoulders, one arm each over my stomach, caressing me gently with their fingertips. Charlotte reached up and pulled a string on her bedpost, and the curtains fell to close us inside the fabric sanctuary of her bed. Then she pressed a button on her headboard and the lights dimmed down to the barest twinkling glow, little more than candle flames in brightness. She turned the music down too until it was a soft, soothing background noise. Then she snuggled up to me, kissing me on the cheek.

"I'm so glad you're here, Anthony. I feel so safe," she whispered. "Thank you for everything."

Then in my other ear, "Yes. Thank you."

"I thought you guys were both asleep," I whispered.

"We're very tired. I was dozing a bit, but not quite asleep."

"Did you lock the doors?"

"Yeah."

"Car's in the garage?"

"Yeah. Thanks for letting me borrow it. It's beautiful."

And the music played on. Charlotte's hands began to slide up and down my body, caressing me all over. It was so completely relaxing I felt like I would drift away.

"Charlotte and I were just talking about how good it is, just to be alive, just to be breathing, just to be touched, held, caressed. Somehow it feels like every little touch I feel tonight is amplified a thousand times. Everything feels warmer."

"Everything feels wonderful. It's like magic," Charlotte said.

"Why does it take someone dying to show us how sweet life is in every little moment? Why do we get so busy, so caught up in our little worlds?"

Charlotte kissed me some more as her mom spoke.

"I mean, I just love just being here like this with you guys, just being here, you know?"

That was all she said. A few minutes later she was sound asleep. Apparently it has been a tiring flight after all.

"Still awake, Char?" I whispered in the dark. There was no answer, so I just lay there thinking for another minute. Suddenly, Charlotte sat up to kiss me. It was one of the most beautiful kisses I'd ever experienced. It seemed to last forever. I began to feel like I was floating away after a while. There was no longer a bed, no longer blankets, no longer a house. There was only Charlotte's kiss. Her soft sweet mouth covered my lips. Her tongue slid across mine, slowly circling, massaging my tongue in slow, exploring circles. I could taste her sweet breath and feel every motion. Her lips were relaxed. Her tongue was lazily swirling around mine. Everything was soft and sweet. My hand at the back of her neck was warmed by the blanket of her hair, and the feel of her fingertips against my chest sent shivers through my body.

This went on for almost an hour. I just kept kissing Charlotte, feeling her hands sliding all over my body. I heard their happy sighing. I smelled her skin. I felt her hair slide across my body when she shifted around to kiss me from a new angle. Every little sensation was intensified to the point where I felt like I was floating away, dreamy and dizzy and dying.

And for some reason I was crying again. I had tears flowing down my face and I just laid there being adored, being cared for, being loved by my woman, and it felt too wonderful for words. At some point Charlotte slid down my body and was lovingly kissing and sucking my cock. I released a long stammering sigh, trying to say thank you without words, trying to tell her how much I loved her sweetly sucking kiss.

Then Charlotte moved up my body from the oral pleasure she'd been giving me, still stroking me with her hand, and slid me inside her, kissing me once again, as she took my cock, sinking down onto it, wrapping herself around it with the full depth of her, sliding me inside her burning hot wetness. The stroking she gave me was beyond words. She wasn't fucking me. She wasn't riding me. She was simply wrapped around me and moving on me like it was some new thing we'd never experienced before. I was inside her and she was hotter than I think I'd ever felt her. She was wet and moving and squeezing me with a strength that I could only describe as ... alive. Such pretty tickling, stroking, sliding wet squeezing all around me. Such pleasure. Her female sheath was alive and in motion and it felt like concentrated life, focused around my manhood. She moved up and down on me until she suddenly shivered, squeezed even harder, grew even hotter and poured down a sweet orgasm onto my scrotum. It cooled me in the heat of the moment.

The sweetness enveloped me and Charlotte massaged the hot intensity of her animate sexuality into my erection. I felt an orgasm building, but as was the norm for the night, there was no urgency at all. It built slowly, sweetly, steadily, and when it arrived I just let it out with a gasping little whimper, exploding inside her in sweet silent popping gushes of ecstasy. Charlotte took it without pausing and milked me of it with her inner muscles. As the throbbing and spurting slowed, she slowed as well until I just lay there trembling beneath her. She didn't break the kiss though, not once through the whole experience. She'd kissed me all through it without stopping, even after she'd milked me dry of ecstasy, and I loved her beyond explanation.

Then she pulled herself off of me and moved down beside my trembling form to lick me clean as her mother slept soundly beside us. I felt soft kittenish licks as the cum I'd delivered was cleaned away. My erection never faded for a moment, and after I'd rested over the course of a song or two, she mounted me again, sliding herself down onto my cock and giving me a slow, sweet fucking, exploring every inch of me in a thousand slippery sweet strokes as I lie there, holding her trembling hands and kissing her. She came on my cock two or three times at least before I finally surrendered to the ecstasy she was painting into me.

"It's so beautiful! So beautiful! I've never felt so alive inside. So alive."

I came again and filled her with the remainder of my spurting seed. I came again. It was sweet and ticklish and delicious, and it drained me completely by the time it was over. Then she slid off of me, collapsing onto the bed beside me and kissing me all over as she had done before.

And Stephanie slept soundly through it all. We were soon to join her. But before we did, I heard Charlotte whisper in my ear, almost sounding like she was talking more to herself than to me, "We're alive. We're alive and everything's beautiful. Everything's beautiful."

The phone rang a while later. I don't know how long we'd been asleep. Stephanie answered it. It was Ron. He filled her in on what was happening. They'd gone to the hospital first, and Ron had gone into Julia's room where she lay completely still, looking like she was fast asleep. Amy sat on the floor outside her door, still crying, unable to face the truth. Finally she demanded to go in when they were turning to leave. She went back, went into the room and fell over her mother's body, sobbing helplessly, apologizing for not being there, begging her to come back. She was escorted out of the room a while later by some nurses and a doctor. They told Ron she went peacefully in her sleep, in no pain, almost smiling.

Then they went and checked into a hotel. Amy went to sleep again, and was asleep when he called home. Steph explained that I was there once again to take care of the two of them, and that everything was okay over here.

Then I heard Stephanie crying for the first time. It was sad and beautiful, so beautiful. She wept, telling Ron she missed him so badly, needed him, loved him, was grateful for him every day of her life. He said some of the same things back to her and more, and she sat there, nodding, and weeping. Charlotte and I held each other in the darkness while we listened to them talk. Steph was sitting on the end of the bed.

I dozed off a bit again while Steph talked to Ron for several more minutes. Suddenly Steph was shaking my foot.

"Anthony. Ron wants to talk to you."

What? Who? Me? Why? My first thought, for some strange reason, was that he was mad at me for being in bed with his wife. I got scared for a moment. I sat up, scooted to the edge of the bed and took the phone.

"Hello?"

"Anthony," he said. "How are ya?"

"I'm okay. Pretty tired. How are you?"

"I've been better. Amy's okay. She's sleeping. She told me about how she spent most of the weekend with you, how you took care of her while Charlotte was running wild. Somehow I'm not surprised at all."

Oh no! Did he know about what happened between me and Amy? Was he gonna tear a strip off me now? Was I a dead man?

"So what's up?" I asked.

"I just wanted to say thanks, kiddo, for all the help you've been to Charlotte, Amy, and now to Steph. Steph told me about what happened with Jade and her friend, and I just wanted to tell you how much I respect what you've done, taking Charlotte back again. You didn't have to. Any other guy would have run, and I don't think I would have blamed them. I know how hard it is to be cheated on, to be disrespected. It happened to me before I met Steph and almost messed me up for life. But you took it in stride. You still see beauty in my little girl, all the same things I see. Any other asshole would have kicked her to the curb and laughed as she got run over by a bus, but you believe in her. She's not perfect, I know. She's raised by Steph and I for god's sake. That's gotta mess any kid up. But somehow she turned out so awesome, and sweet, and beautiful, and loving too, and you see all that, and more. She's not perfect, not even close, but you still love her. You gave her another chance when you didn't have to. That makes you gold in my books."

"Thanks, Ron, but really, I really do love her. I can't even imagine not having her in my life. All you guys. I-"

"I know, man. But I still gotta say it, you know. You're gold. So that's why Steph and I have decided to give you the Mustang."

"The what? Sorry? The Mustang?"

"Yeah, kiddo. It's yours. Steph will give you the keys tomorrow and we'll have the paperwork and insurance transferred to your name. It costs an arm and a leg to insure, but we'll take care of that for you as long as you own it, okay?"

"But ... I don't ... wow ... that red one? Steph's car?"

"She loves that car, and I tried to talk her out of it, but she insisted. It's a 1967 Ford Mustang convertible, with a custom built engine and lambskin interiors. It purrs like a lamb too, and rides like a magic carpet. It's worth about fifty thousand."

"But ... Holy shit! Are you serious?"

"I hope you're as successful as I am one day, Anthony. Then you'll realize that wealth, property, possessions, material assets—they're all just stuff. It's just a lot of stuff I own. I can sell it all, give it away, buy more, and I wouldn't even notice a dent in my bank account. It's all just stuff. But the real treasure in my life, well, you're holding it in your arms over there, both of them, and now there's Amy too, and you've even wormed your way into her heart it seems. But these, my girls, they're the only thing that's worth anything to me in this world, and you're taking care of them, making them happy, and that's something that's beyond value. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"So yeah, the car's yours. Don't worry about it. Take good care of it. The important thing is, I know you will. I know I don't even have to tell you. You're a good kid."

"Thank you so much. I don't know what to say."

"Just take care of my girls. I'll take care of Amy. We'll be back by the end of the week. We've got some arrangements to make out here, Amy's grandfather and I."

"Have a good night, then. I'll give you back to Stephanie here. Thanks, Ron."

I gave the phone to Stephanie and turned to lie back down beside Charlotte. Her eyes were staring at me expectantly. What did he say? She wanted to know. Why do you look so dazed?

"Your parents just gave me a fifty-thousand-dollar car," I whispered.

She nodded. Apparently she'd heard. She kissed me again, but now I was almost too dazed to notice. She squealed in delight.

"You know what this means?" she said.

"I guess I can sell that ugly old truck."

"Well, that too, but it means daddy loves you! I'm so happy I could piss myself. He really loves you."

"I don't get it," I said. "He loves me?"

"I mean, you know he loves me of course, right?"

I nodded. Of course.

"Well now, he's accepted you as the one I plan to spend the rest of my life with. I told him so at the airport while you and mom were getting the bags. He said he wasn't sure I should be so hasty about things like that, I'm still young and all, but I told him I knew for sure, for sure. Even Amy agreed with me. You're the real deal, baby. Now he's given you the car! Oh my god! He believes me! I love you so much!"

And she kissed me again. Steph hung up the phone finally, and crawled back into bed with us.

I was having the most beautiful night of my life once again, in bed naked with two absolutely beautiful women, the new owner of a $50,000 Mustang convertible. Sure life wasn't perfect, but it was pretty damn sweet for about five minutes there. But then the conversation continued.

"So how do you feel, Studly Doright?" Steph asked.

"I feel blown away. I don't even know what to say."

"Daddy loves him! Daddy really loves him, mom!"

"Apparently. I'm pretty close myself. You really are a wonderful boy. I couldn't be happier for my little girl."

"I couldn't be happier for me!" Charlotte said.

"You guys are talking like it's such a chore being in love with Charlotte, like I'd rather be beaten with rusty shovels or something."

"So feeling betrayed, and then dumped, and facing the rest of your life without the girl you love didn't bother you at all then?" Steph asked.

"Admit it, Anthony, you were in hell. I know you were. You said so."

I guess they had a point there. But still, loving Charlotte, when she loved me back, was heaven. It was nowhere near the ordeal they made it out to be.

"Now you have both my babies," Steph said. "Take good care of them."

"I will."

Stephanie kissed me on the cheek, and the conversation seemed to die. Now it was time for settling down to sleep. Charlotte and I had school the next morning, and having missed three days already, we couldn't skip, or even be late. It was already after midnight.

"Oh, crap," Stephanie said. "I forgot to take my pill. I'll be right back." And then, "Char do you need yours? Where are they?"

Stephanie headed out the door to her bedroom to get her birth control. Charlotte rolled onto her back, thinking. Then she froze still like she'd been struck dead. The color went out of her. She lifted her hand to her mouth as though to stifle a scream.

"Oh my god. Oh my fucking god! Oh no!"

"What, Char?" I asked, whispering. "What!?"

She jumped out of bed, ran to her desk and pulled out a pack of birth control pills. She slapped herself in the face. She spun around in a circle and then she sat down on the bed beside me.

"What, Char!? What's wrong?"

"Look!" she said, pointing.

The package was half full.

"What? I don't get it. What's wrong?"

"I was supposed to start my period..." she counted quickly on her fingers, doing some math in her head. " ... three days ago! I haven't taken these in fuckin' two weeks! Oh my god! I completely fuckin' forgot! Oh my fuckin' god! Oh no!"

"Oh my god is right!" I echoed.

Then Stephanie was back, brushing her teeth.

"Need some water?"

"I'm fine, mom. I took 'em earlier."

Steph went out again and Charlotte sat on the bed, looking terrified for a few minutes. Her eyes were darting around. She was counting on her fingers. She was near tears.

"Holy shit, Anthony. Oh my god..."

I lay there terrified as well, hoping it didn't show. Steph didn't seem to notice when she came back in. Both Charlotte and I had composed ourselves as soon as we heard her coming down the hall again. She got back into bed beside me. Charlotte, on my left side, was trembling a bit. So was I.

"You okay, S.D.? You're shaking."

"Just excited about the car," I said, with a phony smile.

"Anthony, come on. Let's go brush our teeth, honey."

I followed her to the bathroom and she locked the door behind us. She immediately snatched open a drawer by the sink and pulled out one of five or so home pregnancy tests that were in there.

"Mom keeps these around, just in case, for the women that come and go through here. Open it."

Charlotte paced back and forth like a caged animal. Her hands were shaking, her eyes all in a mad panic.

"Oh my god, Anthony! Oh my fuckin' god!"

The most horrible thought of them all never even occurred to me. It was Charlotte that said it first, counting on her fingers again.

"I've slept with four guys over the past couple weeks. You, Vincenzo, and those two at the party, Ricky and Aaron. There was Steve too, but he never actually had sex with me. And Ricky and Aaron came on me, not in me. But still ... oh my god!"

I had the test open and I gave it to her with trembling hands. It basically looked like a long plastic sewing needle with some sort of flat little cotton swab in the eye of it. It was gray. I still remember it to this day.

Charlotte sat down on the toilet, pissing suddenly, and she shoved the stick in the stream, looking down to make sure her aim was right.

"But I was supposed to start a few days ago, so that would mean I was actually ovulating two weeks ago. So that eliminates the other guys, but ... here, take this, I can't even look."

She shook it off and handed it to me. I took the thing with shaking hands, between two fingertips on the end she'd been holding in her hand. I looked at it. There was nothing there. Just white cotton. Blank.

"It's blank. What's supposed to be there?"

"It'll show a pink plus sign if it's positive. Do you see anything? Even if it's faint, it's still positive. Is there anything there?"

I didn't see anything.

"How long does it take?"

"It's supposed to be instant. I don't know!"

She wiped herself and slid down to the floor, laying on the rug, holding her tummy.

"Oh, god! Oh, god! Oh, god! I can't be pregnant. She whispered. Please, no! Not now!"

It was still blank.

"It looks like we're okay," I said. "It's still blank."

"Thank you, God! Oh, thank you, God! I owe you huge for this."

My heart quit beating a mile a minute. I began to calm down.

"How long after your actually pregnant does it show up on these things?"

"It's supposed to show up, like the first day you miss your period. It's top quality, doctor's office kinda stuff."

"It's still blank, Charlotte. It's been like two minutes."

"Oh, thank god. I can't even imagine what would happen if I got pregnant. What would daddy think? Oh my god!"

"Well, there's always abortion, right?" I said, sounding hesitant. I had no idea how she felt about that touchy issue.

"Not for me. I took a friend for an abortion once, and I vowed I'd never do it as long as I live. You should have heard her screaming in there. Horrible."

"I thought it didn't hurt or anything."

"She wasn't screaming because of the pain, Anthony. She was screaming because of what was going on, the whole concept of it, after it was already over. I'll never forget that as long as I live."

"So if you were pregnant, you'd keep it?"

"I'd have to. I couldn't bear anything else."

I learned something new about Charlotte right then, and I was honestly impressed by her courage. Something like that changes your whole life, whether you're wealthy or not. It's no small issue. It's not to be taken lightly.

I was calm now. The stick was blank. I looked over at her and smiled. I turned it around and lifted it up to show her.

There on the other side of the cotton center was a little pink plus sign. I'd been looking at the wrong goddamn side!

Charlotte Lawsen, the beautiful and sexy young girl lying on the floor in front of me, was pregnant.



-------

Chapter 39: Breaking It Down


"Charlotte," I said, swallowing what felt like twenty or so dry cotton balls. I was pale and weak and feeling light-headed.

"Huh?" she asked, snapping out of a daze.

"I was looking at the wrong side."

"What!?"

"It's positive. Look."

I showed it to her. She looked. Her lip trembled, and then she rolled away from me, suddenly shaking with silent sobs. She cried hard and long and suddenly Stephanie was knocking on the door. I shoved the pregnancy test back into the box and chucked it into the cupboard under the bathroom sink.

"Is she okay?" Steph asked. I was peeking at her through a crack in the door.

"It's this whole thing with Amy's mom. It's really getting to her."

I was nearly crying myself. The bald faced lie was conveniently disguised.

"You both look a wreck. You should come to bed."

"I'm just gonna talk to her for a bit more. We'll be along. Don't wait up."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. We just need to talk some things through."

"Kay."

She left and I relocked the door. Charlotte was still crying bitterly.

"What am I gonna do, Anthony? I'm fucked! Completely fucked. Totally."

"We, you mean. We're fucked. You mean we, right?"

"I don't even know if it's even yours. What if it's not even yours? I fucked so many guys this month, before you, after you. How could I forget to take my goddamn pills!? I'm such a fuckin' idiot!"

The idea that it could possibly not even be mine hit me in the gut like a solid, heavy kick, but I was already fairly numb to stress at that point. I just sat there in a daze.

"But it could also be mine, right? You had way more sex with me than anyone else the past few weeks."

She turned over and sat up. She put her forearms across her knees and rested her forehead on them. She didn't look up at me.

"Okay, listen," she began. "You've now officially gone way beyond anything a boyfriend should be expected to endure. First I cheated on you with Vincenzo, then with these guys at that party. I treated you like trash and dumped you, and you took me back again. That's way more than I deserve. Now I'm fuckin' pregnant and I don't even know if it's yours. How much shit can you be expected to take from me?"

"What are you saying, Charlotte?"

"I'm saying I already didn't feel like I deserve you, and now this! You need to scrape me off the bottom of your shoe and toss me away once and for all. I'm not worthy of you. Not even a little bit."

She broke down again and I sat there and watched the tears trickling down her naked thighs. I was stunned. I was dazed. I was going numb.

"So what, you breaking up with me again?"

"I never wanna be an arm's length away from you as long as I live. But at the same time I feel like I'm destroying you inside. Everything I do seems to cause you pain."

"So you're breaking up with me again? Just tell me. Yes or no."

I could hear it coming in her tone of voice, in her sighs, in her sobs.

"Don't you understand, Anthony? If it turns out that this baby isn't yours, oh my god! I would sooner die than break your heart like that! Not again! You don't deserve this."

"You're talking crazy, Charlotte. There's gigantic chance that this baby is mine, and what then? Then it means that you're part of my life forever, and we better damn well sort out our shit really quick because no kid deserves to be brought up by two parents carrying on like a couple of idiots all the time. Drama, drama, drama. We gotta decide once and for all what's what and stick to it. This is crazy!"

"Please don't yell at me. I can't take it, Anthony. I feel bad enough. Please don't be mad at me."

"I'm not fuckin' mad at you!"

I was mad, terribly mad, but not at her. I was scared too, terrified even. But at the same time, slowly going numb. Uhg!

She broke down sobbing again anyway though. My tone of voice was scaring her. I don't think she'd ever even seen me mad, not since that day I fought Trevor in the school hallway.

And that reminded me of something.

"Charlotte."

"What?"

"Do you remember that time you were sick at school? You fainted and had to be taken to the nurse's office?"

"Yes."

"Didn't you say that you were sick all that day, that you felt like throwing up?"

"Yes. I ... I was throwing up. I remember now."

"And don't girls throw up when they're already pregnant?"

"You mean morning sickness?"

"Whatever it's called."

"That's not supposed to happen until the woman's been pregnant for a few weeks."

"Well hadn't we been having sex for a few weeks before that?"

"It all happened so fast. I don't remember how long it was."

Charlotte went into the cupboard, took the pregnancy test out and looked at it again.

"When's the last time you definitely remember taking your pill?"

She thought about it. And as she thought about it, she began ripping up the pregnancy test box into little shreds and dropping them into the toilet.

"I remember definitely taking it the first night we had sex, after you brought me home and I told mom all about it. After that I'm not sure."

"Well when does this ovulating thing take place? That's when you got pregnant, right?"

She thought about it. Now she was ripping up the instruction booklet and adding that to the pile of shredded cardboard in the toilet.

"My last period was like two weeks before we did it for the first time. It ended on the Sunday night before we were paired up together for studying and we did it like a week later, right?"

"Something like that."

"So then the whole week after we first did it would be when I was fertile. Mom always said to be extra careful the week after the week your period ends. I'd already forgotten my pill for like a week by then. I was so fuckin' in the clouds that whole damn week. So that must have been it, sometime in the week after we first did it."

"Doesn't the pill last a couple of weeks or something, even if you forget?"

"Anthony, I'm pregnant. Obviously it didn't last."

"Right. I guess so. But if we're looking at that day you were sick as being when you were already pregnant-"

"I don't know, Anthony. That could have just been ordinary sickness. You're not supposed to get morning sickness until like four weeks in or something."

"Are you sure? Maybe it was different for you?"

"What difference does it make, Anthony?"

She sounded like she was getting impatient now too. I didn't hold it against her. She was even more stressed out than I was.

"Maybe it happened the very first time we did it, when we made love in my bed, or any of the times after that, that night when I fed you cherry tomatoes and wrote that petal poem, remember?"

"That was the best night of my life."

She dropped the last shred of paper into the toilet and picked up the stick again. She stared at it for a moment, looking like she was hoping against hope.

Look at her, Anthony. The mother of your baby. She's so beautiful.

She was turning it over and over in her hands, looking at the little plus sign from every possible angle. Then she turned and looked at me. A stray hair spilled down across her eyes, and she blew it up and away from the corner of her mouth.

"Still love me, Anthony?"

In answer I took the little blue stick from her.

"I'm gonna keep this, okay. Because when we're old and gray, and sitting with our grandchildren on our knees, I'll still have this as a souvenir. I'll remember this night for the rest of my life."

She stared at me, and then slid over between my legs and snuggled into me. I held her there, curled up in my arms, with her cheek against my chest, my chin on her head, and we rocked back and forth. She was pregnant. She was keeping it. And it was most likely mine. I just held her. She was curled into a little ball in my arms, hugging her knees and rocking with me on the bathroom floor.

I still have that little blue stick.

"You know, Anthony, I think Sheila knew about this."

"Why do you say that?"

"Yesterday morning, when we were recording the vocals, she kept calling me baby over and over. 'Let's do another take, baby.' 'One more time, baby.' 'Way to go, baby.' I didn't think anything of it at the time, but now..."

"Maybe she found your packet of pills when she was looking for those poems."

"While we were at the dance!"

"She must have found them and put two and two together maybe."

"My calendar! In my room! It has all the dates and times of my periods and stuff. I keep it in the drawer by my pills."

"It would have been easy enough for her to do the math. She's a smart cookie."

"So if she realized what was going on while we were at the dance-"

"And then I came home and told her we were broken up."

"Then she changed the whole movie, just all of a sudden, for no apparent reason, she overhauled the whole movie, made it all about us..."

"She knew you were pregnant, so she changed the whole movie to get us back together."

We sat in silence for a moment. My head was spinning. My heart was aching. My body was exhausted. But all that was suddenly irrelevant because I was completely stricken with awe. Then Charlotte spoke again.

"Dammit, Sheila Unger. Just when I thought you couldn't be more awesome."

She was crying again.

"You think that's what Amy saw in the movie?" Charlotte asked me after a few more moments of silence. "Maybe that's it. Maybe she saw what Sheila knew."

"If you didn't even know you'd forgotten to take your pills, how much less would Amy know? No. Amy was seeing something else in that movie. I'm sure of it."

"But what?"

"That we were beautiful. That's how she put it anyway. Whatever that means."

"We? No," Charlotte said, blowing the stray hair away again. "I was just me. If anyone was beautiful, it was you. You looked absolutely god-like."

"I'm not god-like. Sheila just made me look that way."

And that was it. That was the last hint Charlotte needed. She figured it out before I did, the thing Amy had seen right away, Charlotte finally figured it out. She just sat there completely stunned all of a sudden, and then she looked at me, with a look of awe and terror in her eyes. Her hand went to her mouth.

"What, Charlotte? What?"

"Oh my god!"

"What's wrong?"

"I get it now. It all makes sense."

Once again I felt like a complete and utter moron, not able to fathom something that was as plain to everyone else as the nose on my face.

Charlotte looked at me, reached up and grabbed my face, and pushed me back against the cupboard doors.

"Don't you see, Anthony!? Sheila is completely, totally, and madly in love with you!"

She let go of my face, pulled her hands away, and backed up.

"How could we have been so blind?" she continued, staring up at the ceiling, pulling at her own hair in two tight fists. "Oh my god, it's so obvious!"

"You're crazy! Sheila's not in love with me. We've been friends since we were kids."

"That's why, you idiot! That's exactly why she's in love with you! You've been there through everything she's been through. And she's been there for you, ever since you were kids."

"I don't believe it. That's crazy!"

"Do you still have that DVD?"

"The movie? It's in my bag, in my truck out front."

"Go get it."

Charlotte flushed the toilet and we headed out the door. I tip-toed into Charlotte's room and got my shirt and pants on. (Stephanie was snoring soundly.) I still had the blue stick in my hand. I shoved it in my pocket. Then I went downstairs, disarmed the alarm again and went out to my truck, sprinting across the grass in my bare feet. Moments later we were in the basement loading the DVD into the computer again.

"Okay, now watch it again. Only this time, watch it from Sheila's point of view, see what Amy saw..."

We watched it again, and suddenly it hit me. It was so obvious. Every camera angle, every quote, every close-up on my face—Sheila had made me look like a god because she apparently worshiped me. I had to see the movie with my own eyes before it finally clicked. This is what Amy had seen, what had almost made her burst out bawling.

Sheila was completely, totally, and madly in love with me.

Oh my god!

And she knows Charlotte is pregnant.

Oh no... 

And she pushed Charlotte and I back together when we'd broken up.

Whoa... 

And she was willing to let go of me once and for all, never knowing what it's like to be my girl and have me love her back, just so that Charlotte and I (and the baby) could be happy.

Oh, Sheila... 

She was willing to sacrifice everything because she wanted me to be happy.

"Don't cry, Ant. Everything's gonna be okay in the end. You'll see."

"I don't know what to say," I told Charlotte.

Charlotte was a wreck, sitting in the chair next to me. I hadn't even noticed until the movie was done and I looked over at her.

"How can you possibly claim to love me now?" she said. "When this ... this absolute angel is ready to give up her entire world for you, tear her heart out and throw it away forever just to see you happy, and I can't even keep from fucking other guys. How can you ever possibly love me?"

She put her head down and released such an anguished cry, a cry so heartbroken I thought my brain would break. It's a good thing we were in a soundproof booth.

"Charlotte..."

"Don't touch me!" she said. I yanked my hand back like I'd been bitten. "I'm dirty and filthy and evil! I don't ever get to touch you again!"

"Charlotte!"

But she shoved my hand away and ran back upstairs again, all the way up to her parent's bed. I followed her, but stood in the doorway, not approaching. The music played softly behind Charlotte's door, blocking out the sounds we made. Apparently Stephanie had turned it up a bit.

"Charlotte, don't be like this. It's not like that."

She lifted her face and looked at me with her puffy red eyes.

"It is like that, Anthony. I don't deserve you. I never will. Go. Go be with her. I'm not worthy to lick her boots. I'm nothing. You deserve someone who loves you perfectly. I'm scum. Just go."

She wasn't just being dramatic either. She really meant it. The look in her eye was terrifying. She honestly looked like she was going a little insane. She was even gnashing her teeth as she cried.

"Listen to me, Charlotte! Even if all that was true, which it isn't, but even if it was, I still love you! I still wanna be with you. I'd still give up everything just to hold your hand. And now we have something else to deal with too. You can't just-"

"See! You're just proving me right! You're perfect! She's perfect! She loves you! And I'm a filthy fuckin' little whore. Get away from me! I can't stand to look at you!"

"What!? What are you talking about!?"

"Don't you see? Every moment you stand in front of me, I feel more and more like human garbage. Please go. I'm letting you go. Go be with her. She deserves you."

"So you are breaking up with me again. I thought we were past all this! Goddammit I wish you'd make up your fucking mind!"

But she just burst into sobbing once again.

"Fine!" I said. "Have your little pity party, you crazy bitch! I can't take this roller coaster anymore! Holy fuck! I'm going nuts!"

(Through it all, Stephanie never stirred once.)

I turned and headed down the stairs to leave again, but as I approached the front door Charlotte came barreling down the stairs as fast as she could.

"No, no, no, no!" she said.

I turned around and saw her rushing toward me looking terrified.

"Don't leave me, Anthony! Oh god, don't leave me!"

She fell at my feet and hugged me around my leg, sobbing like a baby. What the fuck!?

"I love you, I love you, I love you! Please don't leave me! I can't live without you!"

Oh my fucking god! What next?!

"I'm scum! I don't deserve you! But please don't go. I'll die!"

I pulled at my hair. I moaned out loud. My brain was bending, nearly to the point of snapping.

"Please! I love you more than life itself. I'll tear out my own eyes for you. Please, just tell me you love me! Just don't leave me."

"I can't take this anymore!"

Tears were streaming down my face too, but I felt strangely detached. I stood there feeling twisted around and cut in half and outside myself all at the same time, like I was watching my life played out in a movie. When will it all end? How much worse could it get?

"Please don't go, baby. Please don't go."

Charlotte was racked with sobs, holding onto my leg like a little girl. Suddenly I snapped out of the craziness in my own head and thought of her. The poor thing. As much as I felt like I was going mad, how much worse was it for her? Who was I to even begin to be upset?

I got down on my knees in front of her, wrapped my arms around her and just held her. She cried for a good fifteen minutes, not talking, not moving, just crying. And I just held her, thinking, wondering, worrying, staring off into space. I was genuinely scared for her. I had to say something.

"Don't go crazy, my girl. Don't go crazy on me. I need you. Just keep it together for a little while longer, okay? Everything's gonna be okay in the end. You'll see. Sheila even said so. She wanted us to be together. And I'm gonna honor that. I love her with all my heart, but only as a dear friend. You have my soul, baby. And now you have my flesh and blood too. Just keep it together for a little while longer. Everything's gonna be just fine. I love you."

"I love you too."

I picked her up and carried her up to her bed again. I got undressed and got in beside her, holding her some more.

"Don't worry, my girl. I'm always gonna be here. I'll never leave you, ever."

"Never ever?"

"Never."

"Thank you," she said, and then she was sleeping. The stress had been too much for her.

I lay there for a few minutes more, almost dozing off before suddenly snapping awake again.

The DVD! I'd almost forgotten the damn DVD in the computer downstairs. The movie was even paused on the screen.

I got up, ran downstairs, and ran the disc out to my truck again, stashing it under the seat just to make sure it wouldn't be accidentally found. Then I went back in the house, armed the alarm again and went to bed, congratulating myself on being so darn clever, so sharp.

Little did I know, the movie was already on about 3,500 hard drives by then, from Ralph and his seventeen friends, to people all over the world. And the numbers were growing, literally by the minute. "Beautiful Poetry Sex Thing — You have to watch this!.mpg" was making its way around the globe, being forwarded, shared, linked to, and copied hundreds of times a minute.

Charlotte and I were so caught up in our little drama, we had no idea we were on the verge of changing the world. You think I'm exaggerating. I'm not. That's what Charlotte's Movie did. It changed the world.

Somewhere down in Australia, a young girl named Michelle was on the internet looking up how many milligrams of acetaminophen it takes to kill a human being. She had three bottles of pills and a broken heart. But when she found a link to BPST, downloaded it and watched it, she was so deeply moved that she completely changed her mind.

And then she was so happy, she told all her friends about it. And her friends told her mom. And her mom went to the press with the story, overjoyed. And the Australian press went mad. "Suicidal teen changes mind after watching teen sex flick."

That's how Charlotte's Movie changed the world.

Of course I didn't find out any of this for at least another week. In the meantime I had to find a way to somehow unbreak Sheila Unger's heart.



-------

Chapter 40: Presumptions


It felt weird finally going back to school after being away for six days. I hadn't set foot in the school since Friday night, and I hadn't been in a classroom since Tuesday afternoon the week before.

I was greeted warmly enough. Everyone wanted to know how I was doing, and if the rumors were true about Charlotte and I breaking up, and then getting back together again. Were we together or weren't we? What was the latest?

After explaining it to five different people I'd developed a standard response:

"Yeah, we are back together. We gave our heads a shake and decided to work it out."

"Aw! That's so awesome!"

"You're such a sweetie!"

"I'm so happy for you!"

"Right on, man."

"Good for you guys. You're a beautiful couple."

Finally I got to my locker.

"Anthony! How are you!? Are you and Charlotte back together? I heard someone saying-"

"Yeah, we are back together. We gave our heads a shake and decided to work it out."

"Oh! Good! I'm so happy for you guys!"

"Thanks, Justine."

"Is she here today? I so have to talk to her about everything."

"I think she said she might come in this afternoon. She was pretty sick this morning."

"Oh my god! Is she okay?"

"Yeah. She just had a rough weekend. Her sister's mom died last night."

"She has a sister!?"

"Yup. Amy. Didn't you see her at the dance?"

"Oh! That little girl with the dark hair! That was her sister?"

"Yeah. Her mom died last night."

"That's awful!"

"Well Charlotte didn't really know her, but she's still pretty shaken up."

"I feel so bad for her! First this whole break-up thing, and then a family member dies! Oh my god!"

"Well, give her a hug when you see her."

"I will."

And she hurried away, probably to tell a friend the new gossip.

"Anthony!" another girl called out. "How are you? I heard you and Charlotte are back together."

And it went on and on until I got to my classroom.

To say I had trouble concentrating on class lectures was the understatement of the year. I didn't hear a word that was said the entire day. My mind was completely lost in thoughts of Charlotte, of Amy, of Sheila, of the baby.

Charlotte was pregnant. And though I was almost 100% certain it was mine, doubts still nagged me, heckling from the peanut gallery in my mind. "You're gonna raise another guy's baby! Have fun wiping up puke and shit for 18 years, knowing it's not even your kid, sucker!"

"Shut up, asshole!" I said to the irritating voice in my head. The voice was me though, at least a part of me, and I didn't know how to shut it up.

Amy was on the other side of the continent, probably crying her eyes out, in a constant state of agony. Where would she stay? How was she gonna say goodbye to all her friends and the home she grew up in—everything she knows—if she had to move in with the Lawsens? I was so glad Ron was with her. It would be a rough time for her to say the least, but at least she was getting some good one-on-one time with her dad, finally.

"Yeah, and she's gonna tell him about how she fucked your big fat cock and he'll castrate you for raping his 13 year old daughter and cheating on Charlotte at the same time! Ha ha! You're doomed, sucker!"

Fuck off, asshole!

And then there was Sheila. What was I gonna do about her? The first thing I have to do is apologize for being so blind. That was the only thing I was sure about. After that, I had no idea. I had to somehow tell her that Charlotte and I were back together after all, and that I loved her dearly, but only as a friend.

"Except when you feel like using her for a quick fuck, right Anthony? Hey, maybe you can tell her about how you nearly fucked her mom as well, ask them to hook you up with a threesome. She'd love that!"

"Fuck the hell off! Dammit!"

The teacher's chalk froze halfway through the letter N he'd been writing on the blackboard. He turned around and looked at me. They all did. Apparently I'd yelled out loud that time.

"Anthony, if you're having trouble with the way I teach algebra, perhaps you'd like to take over."

He held out the chalk to me, raising his eyebrows.

"Sorry. I wasn't talking to you. I don't know where that came from. I'm just a little tired."

"For someone who missed an entire week of school, except to arrive at Friday night's dance, you'd think you'd be perfectly rested, hmm?"

I didn't reply. The teacher resumed his lesson and I hid my face in my hands.

A few minutes later a note dropped onto my desk.

WORN OUT FROM ALL THAT HOT MAKE-UP SEX WITH CHARLOTTE?

I looked up. Geraldine Meskaleck was grinning at me from the next row over. I smiled at her. I shrugged. She wrote another note and passed it to a friend, who passed it to me.

I'M HAPPY FOR YOU GUYS. BUT DAMMIT I WAS HOPING YOU MIGHT GO OUT WITH ME ONCE YOU GOT OVER HER.

I wrote a reply: If you be nice to her, she might share.

And she answered: SLOPPY SECONDS AIN'T MY STYLE. IF I HAVE YOU I WANT YOU ALL TO MYSELF.

I wasn't sure if that was normal and sensible and appealing to me, the idea of one guy/one girl in a normal exclusive relationship. Part of me thought that was the most beautiful thing in the world, and I actually pictured myself with Gerri, walking hand in hand down the hallway, just me and her and no one else. No weirdness, chaos, or hang-ups. But another part of me was a little offended at her selfishness, her ego, her presumption of digging her hooks into me like she owned me. Was that really normal? Maybe it was just what everyone was so used to in our society, the idea of laying claim to another human being just because they'd been inside your vagina. It seemed alien to me, and yet completely normal at the same time. I was confused.

Finally I decided I was just a little confused because I'd grown so used to the Lawsens' relationship, the idea of just loving someone for who they are, and being loved back, purely and truly, without feeling like it's diminished or destroyed somehow just because you share your body with someone else once in a while. They had something very special indeed. But was it normal? What is normal?

How come a person can love Beethoven and Mozart without feeling like you're cheating on one of them, but you can't love more than one human being? How come you can enjoy a beautiful sunrise and a gorgeous sunset and not feel like you're betraying the other one, but when two beautiful girls come along, you have to choose one or the other? How come a parent can love any number of children, but if they love more than one spouse it's considered a sin, evil betrayal, treachery? Who made these rules and why?

It all came down to religion I suppose, the Ten Commandments and all. But I think all these religions and their jealous gods were written up by some jerk-off who didn't like the idea that his woman was eyeing up another guy with a bigger dick. The real God, I believed, would be jealous of no one. Mankind is so damn presumptuous.

I was sitting there thinking about all this, lost in thought, when another note from Gerri dropped on my desk.

WELL, KEEP ME IN MIND ANYWAY. IF YOU AND HER SPLIT UP AGAIN I WANNA BE FIRST IN LINE.

Geraldine Meskaleck was hot and all, but she was no Charlotte Lawsen. I was actually a little offended by her, positioning herself to devour the carcass of our love, when Charlotte and I had just barely gotten back together again. Speaking of presumption.

I wrote back: "Well, it may be a while. Charlotte and I are talking about forever now. No more games."

And she wrote back: TOO BAD. I GUESS I'LL HAVE TO GIVE MY CHERRY AWAY TO SOMEONE ELSE.

Geraldine Meskaleck was a virgin? Who'd have thought? My eyes widened at her. She nodded, reading the question in my gaze. Then she turned back to her book and the dialog ended.

Cherries. Virginity. Blood and pain and burning agony. Sacrifice. I guess that was part of the answer, at least for women anyway. They had to go through a hell of a lot for the man they chose as their first. He'd better be decent enough to earn it. He'd better at least offer her the security of loving her forever, and never leave her worrying that someone else means more to him than she does. I understood that much.

And then I thought of Sheila once again, and my heart ached for her. Dammit all! Why did she have to be so beautiful? Why couldn't she be a presumptuous little wench, like Geraldine? I had no problem blowing her off. Now I had to make one of the toughest decisions of my life, and hurt a girl who'd given up everything for me.

But I realized that the damage was already done. Sheila already knew she'd lost me. She already knew I'd chosen Charlotte. She'd helped me in fact. She'd faced the truth and let me go. Her heart had already been broken for a while now.

"You keep a picture of me in your porn stash?"

"A girl can dream can't she?"

How could I have been so blind?

My love for Charlotte had blinded me. It would probably have been more amazing if I had thought about anything other than those beautiful eyes of Charlotte's, and that body, and those hugs, the dozens and dozens of mind-wrecking orgasms, the joy of being her first love. Sheila had been doomed from the start.

And that's why she wept that first time I made love to her. I was confused at the time, but I understood now. I think that was when I'd first broken her heart.

Oh, Sheila! Please do yourself a favor and just let me go!

And then Sheila's words echoed in my mind again, from Friday afternoon when I'd left Charlotte in bed with Vincenzo and Jade.

"Sometimes you gotta love someone for who they are, no matter how much they hurt you, no matter how much they disappoint you when you believe in them, no matter how blind and stupid they are. Sometimes you can't help it no matter how hard you try."

Yes, blind and stupid. That was me to a tee.

I guess there was no letting go. Once you love someone, you love them forever. It's not wrong. It's just tragic.

The class was over. I gathered up my books and left.

I phoned Charlotte at lunch, just to say hi. She said she was feeling better, spending time with mom, just laying on the couch watching old movies, and having girl talk and stuff. I was happy for her.

"We're gonna have to tell them eventually," I said, after a pause. I didn't have to tell her what I meant.

"I know. Every time I think about it, I feel like I'm gonna puke."

"I'll be there with you, when you tell them. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried about that. I just feel like crap in general, ya know?"

I told her to take it easy and enjoy the movies. I told her I'd come see her for a while after I stopped in at Sheila's. She wished me luck with that and I said goodbye.

That's when I noticed some graffiti by the payphone next to me.

For a good fuck, call Charlotte Lawsen. She swallows everything! And her number was written underneath it.

"FUCK!"

I scribbled it out and scanned around for more. There was nothing else written but I did notice something else interesting:

T.M. was here! 03/14/02

It was the same hand writing as the Charlotte graffiti. T.M.? It could only be one person. And it was last Thursday.

Anthony James Mitchell is a fag!

Same handwriting. Nice. When do you turn twelve, asshole?

The personal attack I could shrug off. It was childish and stupid, and everyone in the entire school knew I was a great guy. He'd gotten his ass kicked and he was just lashing back. Fine. Whatever.

I couldn't deal with him writing Charlotte's number everywhere though. That had to stop, and right fucking now.

"We've got a problem, Mick. Can you back me up in a scrap?"

I slammed my lunch tray down onto the table and he grabbed one of my French fries.

"You even have to ask?"

"It seems a certain T.M. has been writing graffiti about Charlotte and I all over the school, by the phones, in the bathroom stalls, on the back doors. It's everywhere."

"T.M.?"

"I kicked his ass last week in the hallway. He'd been insulting Charlotte, so I punched him out."

"Trevor Miller?"

"Yeah. Now he's got shit scribbled all over the school. 'C.L. is a whore', 'A.M. sucks cocks', 'For a good time call... ', that type of shit. It's everywhere."

"How do you know it's him?"

"The idiot signed his own name, a few feet away, in the same hand writing."

"So he's a dead man then. It's a done deal. When?"

It felt good to know that Mick was in my corner without question. All I had to do was say who and why and the rest was pretty much assumed. Friends are awesome.

"Can I trust you with something else, Mick? I got a real problem."

"About what?"

"Let's go for a walk."

I took my cardboard tray of fries and my drink, Mick grabbed up his book bag, and we walked out onto the football field behind the school. I gave him the whole run-down on Charlotte's pregnancy.

"So you're pretty much fucked."

"In a way I guess. On the other hand, it means Charlotte is mine forever, and that's nothing to be too upset about."

"Her dad gonna string you up by your balls though?"

"I don't think so. He gave me a $50,000 car last night."

"Which one!? The red one!? Oh my fucking god!"

"Yeah. Amazing, huh?"

"Holy fuck! You lucky bastard! The hottest chick in school, and now a hot sports car. It doesn't get any better than that."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?"

"But now you're gonna have to tell him you knocked up his sixteen-year-old daughter. Ouch!"

"Well, I'm trying to just worry about that when it happens. It's not gonna be pretty, but I think they'll understand. They know I'm not gonna screw her over or anything. They know I love her."

I ate a French fry, and tossed another one to a seagull that was scampering after us across the field.

"So what do you wanna do about Trevor?"

"I think we'll hand him a marker, and give him 'til the end of the day to scribble out every single bit of graffiti he wrote. If he hasn't done it, we'll deal with him then."

"Sounds reasonable. Maybe more forgiving than he deserves, but you're a good guy, Mitchell."

"Thanks. I really wanna kick the shit out of him, but I've already got too much to worry about. I don't need this right now."

I released a shaky sigh. The knot in my guts was getting tighter.

"I understand, man."

The seagull squawked at me for another French fry. Presumptuous little bugger. I dumped the whole box in front of him. I wasn't hungry anyway.

"I got another problem, if you can believe that."

"There's more?"

Mick was smirking at me now. He shook his head and smiled.

"Yeah. There's more. It's Sheila."

"What's up with Sheila?"

He took a football out of his book bag and began spinning it in the air and catching it again.

"Well Charlotte and I realized that she's apparently madly in love with me, secretly, but completely in love with me. I'm not sure how to deal with it."

Mick laughed and shook his head again.

"Just figured that out now, didja? Did you happen to notice there was a forest among all those trees?"

"You knew about it?"

"You're a bonehead, man. Everyone knows it!"

"Everyone who? The whole school?"

"No, just everyone who knows you both, you and Sheila."

"Charlotte didn't know."

"Charlotte's as clued out as you are. It's that giant pecker of yours I think. Seems to have knocked a bit of her brain loose or something."

"So you knew Sheila had the hots for me and you didn't say anything? Thanks a lot, man."

"What were we supposed to say? We thought you knew. And even if you didn't know, you were so wrapped up in Charlotte."

"You and Janine both knew about it?"

"Yeah. We were talking about it all last week. Sheila gets this look in her eye when she looks at you. And did you see that fuckin' movie? She adores you! You gotta be blind not to see it."

"I guess I'm blind."

"So what're you gonna tell her?"

"Thanks, I guess. I mean, she completely and totally loves me, Charlotte cheats on me, we break up, and Sheila makes this beautiful movie that gets us back together again. She gives up everything just so Charlotte and I can be happy together. How fuckin' amazing is that?"

"Wow."

"No shit wow. That's like, wow times ten. We think maybe she knows about the pregnancy though."

"That would explain it, I think. Yeah. How'd she figure that out?"

"Not sure. She might have found Charlotte's calendar, with her menstrual cycle notes and shit on it, while we were all out at the dance. However she figured it out, it was mighty fuckin' noble of her. She's an angel."

I was getting a little choked up again, but I fought it back. I think Mick noticed though. He just looked at me for a bit, then looked away again, not sure what to say.

"So you've got two beautiful girls in love with you, the rest of the chicks in school wanna fuck your brains out, and you've got a hot sports car just given to you, just for being an all-around great guy. Life must be pretty rough."

"You're an asshole," I said, smiling at him. He had a point though. There was as much good going on for me as there was bad. I was just too focused on the shit.

He tossed me the football and we spent the rest of the lunch hour playing catch, while that little gray seagull gobbled up the fries.

It's great to have friends.

And when we got a few more guys together and confronted Trevor, he blanched, white as a sheet. He tried to deny it of course, but I backed him up against the wall.

"Does the phrase 'T.M. was here. 03/14/02 mean anything to you?'"

Mick grabbed him by the shirt, and slammed him into the wall, hard too. He grunted and suddenly went even whiter.

"There's no dealing with a shitball like this, Anthony. Let's just fuck him up."

"No. He's not an idiot. He knows he did it. And he knows we know he did it. He's gonna clean it up by the end of the day, and if he doesn't, then we fuck him up. And this time he's not gonna walk away."

Mick shoved him down the hall and he went stumbling away, rubbing his shoulder.

"We know where you live, Miller. We better not see a goddamn speck of graffiti about Anthony or Charlotte in this entire school."

Trevor disappeared around the corner. And by the end of the day, the graffiti had disappeared as well.

He never got around to cleaning up the ones he'd written at the local mall though, and those were the ones that really caused problems.

The afternoon was long and boring. I had Mr. Ericson's Composition class again, and he handed out more essays, walking up and down the aisles and dropping marks onto student's desks, one by one.

"Phenomenal job, Mr. Mitchell," he said in his English accent, pointing at another upside down thong bikini he'd drawn in red on my essay: another A. The essay was about miscommunication across generations, and the resultant alienation of youth. Presumptions were everywhere.

The day seemed like it would never end, but oddly enough, as soon as I started dreading the conversation I'd have to have with Sheila, time suddenly started flying by. The next thing I knew, the last class was done.

"Looks like it's all clear with Trevor," Mick told me, meeting me at my locker. "I checked all the bathrooms, every stall. It's all scribbled out."

"Thanks, man. One less thing to worry about."

"Need a ride home?"

"N'ah. I got my truck."

"Didn't bring the Mustang?"

"The paperwork isn't done yet. Steph was going get the pink slip switched over today. There's some tax shit they have to sort out too apparently. You can't just give away $50,000 like that."

"Who knew?"

"Well they wanted to make sure I didn't get stuck with a bill from the IRS. That would really screw me. Their accountant's gonna work something out."

We headed for the door.

"Let me know how it goes with Sheila, huh?"

"I'll give you a call."

"Let's hit the drive-in this weekend, you, me, Janine, and Charlotte, and then we'll cruise over to Ranger's Point."

"Nice."

And he left for his car. I was on my way to Sheila's. I had to tell her what I knew. I had to say sorry. I had to say thank you. I had to ask her why she never told me. I had to ask her what she was gonna do about it. It would be weird being friends with her, feeling like I'm breaking her heart every time I mention Charlotte.

Vanessa let me in.

"She's downstairs, Ant."

"How are you doing?"

"Been a little ill myself, but Sheila seems a wreck. What did you guys do all week?"

"She's sick?" My face went white as a sheet.

Oh my god! Not Sheila too!

"She seems more exhausted than anything. All zoned out and not very talkative. Though, I guess she was never really all that talkative. Not to me anyway."

"I'll let you know how she's doing."

Sheila was in the dark. Heavy curtains were drawn over her windows and there was almost no light in the entire basement. Some light drifted down the basement stairs, but the carpeting on the steps was dark brown, matching the walls, and it didn't reflect very far into the gloom. Music was playing, a song called Creep, by Radiohead. To this day I almost die every time I hear that song. I stood there listening to it for a minute, listening with a new understanding of everything this girl had gone through the past few weeks, and every thing she'd done for me. The song played on in the blackness and I just stood there, chilled.

Whatever makes you happy ... whatever you want ... You're so very special ... I wish I was special ... What the hell am I doing here? ... I don't belong here... 

I moved through the dark, feeling my way around furniture and ceiling posts. The room was cold. For a moment I wondered if she was even down here. All I heard was the song. All I felt was the cold.

I found my way to her bedside and sat down.

"Nice movie, huh?" she said in the dark.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"I know your smell."

"The movie was incredible. We were all completely blown away."

"I'm glad. I worked hard."

"You sure did."

"How was school?"

"M'eh. You know. Trevor Miller's been scribbling graffiti all over the place about me and Charlotte. We had to threaten him with a crippling ass-kicking. He ran through the whole school again and erased every single one of them."

"What's his problem?"

"I beat him up last week. He was talking trash about Char."

"Nice."

Silence. Another song came on. I have no idea what it was.

"How long have you been sitting down here in the dark, She?"

"I don't know. What day is it?"

"Monday."

"Still?"

"Yeah."

"It's been Monday forever."

"Kinda feels like it."

Silence again, except for the siren on the CD player, singing about how she'll "cherish every drop here on her knees" and how she was gonna love the guy forever.

Sigh.

"You and Char back together again?"

"You have to ask?"

"I don't wanna presume."

"Yeah. As soon as the movie was done, she fell on her knees and begged me to take her back, literally. Almost broke my heart."

"And of course you did."

"Yeah."

"Good. You guys need each other."

It was time to get down to the point. I took a deep breath.

"Listen, Sheila. Watching that movie made me realize something else. Something I've been too stupid to see this whole time, too caught up in my own mess to realize."

"What's that?"

"I finally realized how you feel about me."

"How do I feel about you, Ant?"

"You're in love with me."

"Ya think?"

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not seeing it. I'm sorry for taking you for granted. I'm sorry for being too boneheaded to think about you and your feelings."

"Charlotte's a beautiful girl."

"She is, and I love her with all my heart. And what you did for us, knowing how you feel about me ... I don't know how you ... I can't even..."

"If you love something, set it free, right?"

"But you set me free knowing I'd never come back. You said goodbye to me forever, just so I could be happy, me, Charlotte, and the baby."

"The what?"

"The baby. You know. You saw it on Charlotte's calendar. She's hasn't taken her pill for like two weeks now. She's pregnant. You know. You figured it out."

"She's fuckin' pregnant!?"

"You didn't know?"

"Oh my god! You're fucked now, boy!"

"You mean you didn't know!? Tell the truth!"

"I had no idea. I swear."

"So you just made that video like that, just to make me happy? Just to-"

"You thought I knew? You thought I changed it because she's pregnant?"

"Well, yeah. We thought you figured it out."

"I honestly had no idea, Ant. Congratulations though. Now you really need each other."

Oh, Sheila! Words cannot express how bursting with awe and admiration I was for her right then.

"So it all works out then. You're back together. You got a baby on the way. You'll live happily ever after. I did a good thing. Why are you crying, Ant?"

And she sat up and hugged me. The songs played on. And she just held me, making me feel better in one of the darkest hours of my life. I cried about everything and she held me. At some point during my pity party I realized it should have been the other way around. I should have been holding her. But she sat there in the dark, holding me, letting me cry out the wreck I'd made of my life. She stroked my hair and kissed my shoulder. After a while she spoke in my ear, soft and calm and completely sure.

"You're the most beautiful person on earth, Anthony. I've loved you since I was a little girl. You held my hand at my dad's funeral. You took care of me for months when mom was wallowing in her misery, too messed up to even have a conversation with me. You were my only friend. I dreamed of marrying you one day.

"But Charlotte came along, and I saw something even more beautiful in your eyes. I saw it every time you looked at her. I saw it every time you touched her. Every time you spoke about her, I heard it in your voice. You're in love, my dear boy, and it's absolutely, completely, and totally gorgeous. You're a miracle to look at in love, so beautiful and pure and true.

"But you don't look at me like that. When you look at me, there's deep affection there, there's genuine and pure and true friendship, but it's not love, not like the way you look at your beautiful Charlotte. And when you touch me, it's beautiful, but it's a pat on the head compared to how you touch her.

"I said my goodbyes already, Ant. Don't worry about me. I let you go. Go be with her. Make her the happiest girl on earth for the rest of your lives. Raise that baby; love them both as only you can. You'll always have me as a friend, and I'll always have the memory of how you once held my hand as they buried my father in front of me. Everything else is just getting through the day.

"But we made something beautiful together, huh? Didn't we, Ant? We captured true love on film. We made it real. It's there forever now. I'll love you guys forever for showing me what real love looks like."

And that's all she said. We were silent for a long time, and I sat there thinking about how the real God is jealous of no one.

Neither are his angels.



-------

Chapter 41: Lost


"It's a 1995 Dodge Dakota Sport, 4 x 4."

"How many miles on it?"

"Around 80. Seventy-nine-five, maybe. It runs fine."

"Why you selling?"

"I got a new car, for my birthday. My dad gave me this truck before he left. It was parked for like five years before I could even drive it, so it's in new condition still."

"Alright. We'll see. Bring it by. I'll kick the tires, take it for a spin, and if it doesn't fall apart on me, I'll give you $2500. Cash. How's that sound?"

It was probably a rip off. The thing was only seven years old, and hardly driven, but I didn't care. I had the Mustang now.

"Sure. I'll bring it by. Where you located again?"

He gave me his address and I scribbled it down.

"I can be there in twenty minutes."

"Alright. I'll watch for you. We're closed already, but just honk the horn by the gate."

"Alright. What's your name, by the way?"

"Don. Donald. Donny. Big D. What's your name, kid?"

"Anthony Mitchell."

"Alright. See you in 20 minutes, Anthony. Don't be late. My wife's got supper on the table already."

"Thanks, Don."

I closed the yellow pages and hung up the phone. Suddenly I was excited for the first time in days. I almost felt like giggling. But it was nervous giddiness, the kind of nervousness where you just wanna rush everything through and get it done before you change your mind. Next I called Mick.

"Can you get your mom's car, man? I need a ride somewhere."

"What happened to your truck?"

"I'm selling it. That's why I need a ride. I got the Mustang now, so I don't need it anymore. I got a guy who's gonna buy it for $2500."

"Awesome. Nice chunk of change for that old bucket."

"It's probably worth more, but I don't care. I just need some quick cash."

"Planning on fleeing town, are ya?"

"No. Not just yet. I have other plans."

He covered the phone and said something to his mom.

"Well I can get the car. Am I just picking you up at this guy's place?"

"Yup."

I gave him the address and he met me down there. The guy took it for a spin and was genuinely impressed with it. He even gave me $3000 instead of $2500. I was surprised. I was expecting him to try and shaft me. Maybe $3000 was still less than what the thing was actually worth, but it was $500 more than his first offer. I took it, grinning, and signed it over to him.

"Where to now, champ?"

"Let's head over to the mall."

So we went to the mall with my $3000. I felt like a big shot strutting around with 30 hundred dollar bills in my pocket, but I had plans for the money. I had a future to worry about.

I bought Mick a $190 jacket though, just to be a pal, just to say thanks for everything. He actually got all choked up when he tried it on. He'd been wanting it for months, but never had any money to get it. He looked awesome in it too. It was a 3/4 length black leather jacket. The front of it almost looked tuxedo style. Very cool.

I hit a few more stores with my $2810 and got a few more things I needed. By the time we left I had only $1100 left. I was harassed of course by people who wanted to know where a kid like me got so much money from, but I told them I'd just sold my truck to a used car guy. The cash was real enough, not monopoly money or anything, so they took it.

"You probably shoulda talked to your parents about this, kid."

"What am I, ten years old? I can do what I want with my property, can't I?"

The guy shook his head. He was just happy to make a sale.

Mick bugged me about it as well, on the way to his car.

"You sure about this, Mitchell?"

"The jacket looks awesome on you! Quit trying to talk me out of it."

"I wasn't talking about the jacket, stupid. You know that."

"Well, you're not gonna talk me out of that either, so just drive."

"Okay, I'm just saying."

We got into the car. But he stopped and looked at me like I was insane again before starting up the car.

"You've been under a lot of stress lately, Mitchell. I just wanna make sure you're sure, know what I mean?"

"Listen, man, for the past few days my life's spinning out of control, and I'm tryna just hang on and try not to go flying off. I just wanted to finally take charge of something. Make a decision. Take action. Steer my own course. I just wanted to do something. I hate feeling like I'm up the creek without a paddle."

"That's a pretty expensive paddle."

"Yes, it is."

"I guess I'm dropping you off at Charlotte's?"

"Yup. Thanks, man."

"No. Thank you! I'm honestly blown away by this. I don't know how I'm ever gonna thank you."

He straightened his sleeve cuffs again, and rolled his shoulders around in the jacket.

"No thanks necessary. It's just stuff. The real treasure is being able to make a grown man almost cry like a little bitch. Heh."

"Hey! You shut up about that. I had something in my eye."

"Riiight..."

I wanted to give him a hug, but that's not exactly the manliest thing to do, so I just let the jacket hug him for me. He looked really damn comfortable in it. A moment later, he looked over and punched me in the arm. I guess that was his way of giving me a hug. I liked Sheila's way a lot better, but I appreciated the sentiment nevertheless.

When we got to Charlotte's all the lights were out. Apparently no one was home.

"You sure she was expecting you?"

"I called her from my house, around five, after I left Sheila's. I told her I had to run to the mall and I'd be here by around seven or so. What time is it now?"

"Around seven or so."

"Maybe she's sleeping or something."

"Well get in there and snuggle up with her. Do her once for me."

"I will. Thanks for the ride."

"Anytime."

I got out and headed up the walk. For some reason it felt like the longest walk of my life, though it only took thirty seconds to get from the street to their front door. Every step I took was filled with a hundred rapid-fire thoughts, doubts, worries, concerns. But most of all, I was just happy to have finally made a decision.

I was also happy to have sort of resolved things with Sheila. Things weren't perfect of course, but I at least felt better that she definitely wanted me to be with Charlotte. We'd hugged like that for a good ten minutes or so, as songs rolled by. Then she kissed me and told me to get going, saying she was finally gonna eat something. That made me feel a lot better.

I let Vanessa know that she was alright, but to keep an eye on her. I told her to call me if anything came up. I hugged her too. She looked very tired herself.

Then I sorta went into this daydream. I don't even know how I got home from there. I was just blanked out in my stream of thoughts. When I snapped out of it, I was sitting on my bed at home, staring at a poster on my closet door.

I blinked, looking around. All was quiet.

A few moments later, I was flipping through the phonebook, looking up auto dealerships.

And now I was walking up Charlotte's walk with what was left of my dad's old truck in my pocket. I got to the front door and rang the bell. There was no answer. Charlotte was expecting me, so I let myself in.

The first thing I noticed was the smell of food, delicious food. I realized immediately that I hadn't eaten since those French fries at lunch, and I'd barely eaten them. I was hungry, damn hungry. And whatever was cooking smelled incredible.

The second thing I noticed was soft music playing, quiet saxophone and piano music, the kind that was on when I'd first walked in on Charlotte asleep in her bedroom two weeks before, when I wrote her the petal poem. It was beautiful.

Charlotte and Stephanie were nowhere to be seen. The clock in the kitchen said it was four minutes to seven. I was right on time. I saw no food in the kitchen. But the smell was everywhere. So I followed the sound of the music back into the dining area where I saw candles. There were candles lit over a set table that looked like a banquet for royalty—silver platters, crystal champagne glasses, gold-plated utensils, gilded china, red velvet table cloth. And leaning up against the plate at the head of the table was an envelope with my name on it. I walked over and picked it up. It was a card with a cherub on the front, pointing an arrow off into a sunny-looking flower garden. Cupid, I guess, but mostly it just reminded me of a little baby. I think it was meant to.

To the king of my heart, my dearest Anthony,

Words cannot express how deeply I feel for you for all you've done for me. I tried all day to think of some way to tell you how much you mean to me, and finally I just decided it was a lost cause. Words will never be enough. So I decided to show you what you mean to me instead. The lifetime of pampering and seeing to your every pleasure begins now.

Sit. Enjoy the food. Mom and I prepared it ourselves. I'll be down in a few minutes, my love, my life, master of all that I am.

Yours forever,

Charlotte

Wow. I stood there re-reading the thing a couple of times and finally put it down. I sat in the seat at the head of the table and lifted the cover from a platter in front of me: steak, medium rare, exactly the way I'd ordered it when we'd gone out for dinner. She'd remembered. Next to that, vegetables, baked potatoes, salad, gravies and sauces in little silver boats that looked kinda like Aladdin's lamp. There was wine too. Real wine, and it looked absolutely top quality. I really had no idea what quality wine was (I wasn't even sure if it was wine, the label was all in French) but even the bottle looked expensive.

I just sat there, burning with hunger, but dazed by the spread, staring into the flickering candle. Then I looked up and saw Charlotte standing at the top of the stairs, over by the railing where we'd hung the WELCOME HOME AMY banner. She looked absolutely angelic. I'm not even sure what it was she was wearing, to be honest with you. It was an evening gown, I know that much. It was white, satiny, and shimmering with sparkles that danced in the light, like the fabric itself was alive. It was sleeveless and came all the way up to her neck, with a little heart shape cut out of the front to accentuate her cleavage. It hugged her curves, hinting at her form without being gratuitously tight. You could just barely make out the tone of her flesh beneath the fabric. It was subtly see-through, but not lewdly so. Her hair was done up also, gathered in swirls behind her head before falling down her back like a flowing river of gold. Her skin sparkled as well somehow.

She was standing up there staring down at me. I was completely gone in the head as soon as I saw her. She was, without the slightest exaggeration, astonishing to behold. We just stared at one another, and she blinked exactly seven times, before letting go of the railing and beginning her descent down the winding stairway. She approached, and as she did I felt the heat in me growing stronger. Then she was right beside me and I literally felt like I was standing in the hot sunshine of a summer day. The heat was inside me though. I think it was desperate hungry passion and awe, such as I'd never felt before. She stood behind the chair next to where I was sitting and just looked at me. Her fragrance was some sort of delicious essence of fruit, flowers, and female arousal that made me feel like a cave man and a god at the exact same time. I wanted to throw her down on the table and take her right then and there, but I also wanted to stand in awe, just staring. Her eyes were so damn beautiful, it almost made me cry.

She blinked four more times, and then she spoke.

"You're giving me that look again. I love you so much."

I didn't reply. I couldn't imagine what I could have possibly said to express how beautiful I thought she was. Beautiful was just a word. She could have made the most enchanting fairytale princesses ever look like toads right then.

Then she served me. She lifted the utensils with trembling hands and placed a steak, some potatoes, vegetables, and salad onto my plate. She put gravy on the potato, and butter, and a dash of salt. She put dressing on my salad. She filled my wine glass, and then hers. Then she served herself and sat down.

I was still dumbstruck, lost in awe, just staring at her, and she was blushing now. So she reached over and cut my steak for me. I looked down at her tender, girlish hands and watched them move in the golden candle light. She brought a piece to my mouth and fed me from her own hand. It was tender and juicy. It almost melted in my mouth. I ate, still staring at her, tasting the most delicious food I'd ever experienced. Then she brought the wine glass to my mouth and I sipped from it. It was sweet, strong, rich. All I can say is that wine tasted like she smelled—gorgeous.

She lifted a cloth napkin, and dabbed a dribble from my mouth. Then she fed me a bite of the potato.

Then I stopped her and just held her hands, just staring once again. She kept looking away from me, staring down at the table, over to the corner of the room, and then looking back again. Her eyes were glassy. Her lip trembled a bit.

"I don't deserve so much love."

The words came out of her in a whisper; she almost sighed them somehow. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed. A stray strand of hair curled down one side of her forehead, almost touching her eyebrow. Her skin looked delicate, soft, glowing. Her lips were full and shining wetly. They were sparkling too.

"I honestly don't know what I did to deserve all this, Charlotte, to deserve you. All I've done is not let go of the most beautiful thing in my world right now, and you somehow think that's the most noble and beautiful thing that a man's ever done for his girl. I don't understand it, and I probably never will, but I'm more grateful than any man's ever been."

Charlotte stared for a moment, smiling at me with her eyes, and then she answered.

"The fact that you don't even get how wonderful you are, that you love me without the slightest hint of ego makes you even more gorgeous. But we figured it out today, mom and I, what it is that's so wonderful about the way you love me, why it feels so new and scary. I've had a lot of guys say they were falling in love with me in my day, but with you, you love me without the slightest shadow of self-interest. You're not trying to land me. I'm not a mere prize to you, to make you look and feel more awesome about you. You love me because of who I am, whoever that is. I don't even know who that is anymore, but you make me feel safe."

"You are safe."

She was more safe than ever.

"I know I am. And mom knows I am. And dad knows I am. And as she was getting me ready, she said she remembers the day she'd first realized she was gonna be with daddy forever, when she stayed up all night one night, telling him everything she'd ever done, every dirty little secret, and every crazy thought and dream that came into her head, ever since she was little, and he just held her tight, listening, looking at her like she was a golden angel gifted to him from heaven. She was dirty, and flawed, and human, but he made her feel like a precious china doll, like he was lucky to even be near her, that he would die to protect her, and spend the rest of his life worrying about making her the happiest woman on earth. That's when she was lost for good. She knew right then that forever isn't just a word, and that's when she gave him her heart, once and for all, and her soul; everything."

"That's kinda how I feel."

"Me too. And that's exactly why this is all so perfect."

"Is she home? Upstairs or something?"

"She had some errands to run. She'll be back in a few hours. You have me all to yourself, my love. But let's eat, shall we? You're gonna need your strength."

I shivered. I wondered if my brain could even handle whatever she had in store for me. I was already going into sensory overload. Everything was kinda sparkling and shimmering at that point. I felt like I was sitting inside a beautiful little galaxy of gold and red and white and tan; everywhere I looked, those colors were sparkling. And I felt weightless.

But we ate, and drank, and ate some more. We didn't talk much. We just stared and touched and smiled. Then she got up when we were done and carried our plates away to the kitchen.

"Wait right there, my dear. I've got to get desert ready."

I waited, listening to the music, smelling the smells, sipping the wine, resting my hands upon my belly. She opened cupboards and rustled with plates and utensils. I heard the delicate clatter of desert being served and nothing else, and this was why I was so completely dumbstruck when she returned with a desert tray, now wearing nothing but a silky corset, garter, thigh-high stockings, and lacy little panties—all in the same shimmering white, and all a lot more gratuitously see-through than her dress had been. She was blushing hot pink and trembling like a bride on her wedding night. I just sat there with my mouth open, staring in stupor.

And she served me chocolate cheesecake, covered in a sweet strawberry sauce, and crème de menthe ice cream. She even fed it to me because I was too entranced to even lift my arms. I ate from her dainty little spoon, staring at her cleavage thrust up into my view, inviting me forward to claim it. I was apparently its master. Her eyes looked a lot less entranced by me and a lot more lusty. And when she dribbled a bit of ice cream onto my lower lip, she didn't wipe it away with a napkin. She licked it away. And her breath smelled of wine and ice cream and a dozen other sweet girly things.

And then she realized I was hard in my pants for her and she took one last nibble of ice cream and set the bowl down. Then she was kneeling down in front of my chair and sliding my pants off of me. My erection thrust out and flopped down against my shirt and she bowed down and gave it a long deliciously lick from the root to its face with her cool slippery tongue, slowly. I shivered.

Her eyes told me I was her king. She wrapped her sweet reverent mouth around me and gave me pleasure. I was already in more ecstasy than I'd ever been in my entire life, but when I looked down and saw the most beautifully angelic princess on earth with my manhood in her mouth, staring at me with absolute joy, I almost lost my mind again.

I sat slumped in the chair and let it happen. She suckled and caressed me with her mouth, and fondled me with her hands. She didn't speak. She didn't ask me how I felt or what she could do to make me even happier. She knew I was completely stunned by everything, and she seemed overjoyed that she was able to make me that happy.

And her little pink tongue slithered out of her smile and went up and down the length of me. And her eyes made deliciously sucking love to my mind, her big beautiful blue eyes, with lashes that danced with her every blink. And her hair slid against my thighs as she bobbed up and down, slowly, sensuously, worshipfully. And I couldn't take my eyes off of her. And the little galaxy I was in shimmered and sparkled. And now it was pleasuring me with sweetly gyrating suction and a slowly massaging tongue as well. I sat there, convinced it was all a dream.

I didn't come. I wasn't meant to come. I was meant to merely be pleasured long and slow and deep. And ten minutes later, she pressed her cleavage against my erection as she rose to give me a kiss. I kissed her with all the quiet passion of a distant storm, the kind you know is coming, with all its power and fury, but still feel calm and just a little anxious while you wait for it.

And then I slid off the chair and pushed her to the floor. She yielded to me, letting me take her. A shimmer of lust flashed in her eyes as she dropped onto her back. Her panties came off and she spread for me as I bowed down to indulge my mouth in the flowing female deserts at the apex of her parted thighs. I licked and sucked and kissed and nibbled, I caressed and massaged her with my fingers, all with no intent but her delirious pleasure. And she sounded like she was crying, almost sobbing with heartbreak, but moaning in ecstasy as well. It was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard a woman make. And I continued, enjoying the candle-lit glow of her pretty little pussy, enjoying the feel and textures of it, her slippery wetness, her pinkness, the tender flesh of her labia pouting at me, swollen with tingling arousal that she could only express in the desperate churning of her entire pelvis against the adoring kiss of my mouth. She clenched hard on my fingers as I probed them in her soaking wetness. She felt soft inside, velvety smooth, luxurious, hot and tight. I pulled my shirt off and kept going. Then my pants came off too, with my underwear, and by the time I crawled up her body to mount her, I was completely naked above her.

I kissed her, staring into her eyes as she stared into mine, and I positioned myself at her entrance, pushing forward and popping in. She sucked in breath, cooling the kiss, and then closed her eyes. She was moving in every place now, eagerly wriggling to get more of me inside her. And when I got down to the bottom of her, there were tears flowing down her face, and she wept freely the entire time I made love to her.

She was stretched full of me, and I could feel her squeezing me inside. Her hands pulled at a draw string and her breasts were freed from the corset. They jiggled freely between us now as we moved together, and her thighs matched their rhythm as her little feet kicked in the air above me.

She tasted like strawberries when I kissed her. And her sweet little pussy sucked hard on my every stoke. And her body moved beneath me, matching my every motion with energy that perfectly reciprocated mine. And the lacy little drawstrings that spilled across her bare belly were ribbons with gold edges, and her stockings were smooth as shining wind across my backside.

And she loved me. She didn't have to say it. She didn't have to make some beautiful speech, full of promises. She loved me. She was mine forever. And my heart beat, pulsing blood through my body simply so that I could experience her. And my brain thought its thoughts, and my heart felt whatever emotions it could feebly comprehend in the unfathomably deep security of her love, because she was mine forever. Nobody ever feels truly secure in this world, with death, danger, and despair looming around every corner, behind every move we make in this world, and it's all we can do to crawl out from underneath our beds and face this torturous life every single day. But I felt completely and totally safe and secure right there, inside the forever I felt in Charlotte's embrace.

And when she climaxed and I felt everything tighten up around me, her arms crushing me in a hug, her face pressing into my neck, her legs gripping me hard between them, and her vagina squeezing me like it meant to pop my head right off my neck, I cried out loud, moaning long and hard into her ear.

"Forever, Charlotte. This feeling is yours forever."

She shook, not speaking, feeling everything, and she shook some more, perhaps understanding the same things I was, that sometimes the world all lines up in the right way, and you experience the perfection of being alive and in love and completely free—everything that life is supposed to be.

And she told me to please come for her. So I did. And we lay there panting and shivering and shaking, half drowned in the overwhelm of the moment, unable to hold still, caressing each other in every place we could touch, and kissing, and touching our cheeks together, and running our hands everywhere.

"I have something for you..."

I got up, reached into my pocket, still panting, still shaking, and pulled out the gift I'd bought for her. She saw the little velvet box and covered her face with her hands. She'd already been weeping freely, but when she saw the little box I had for her, she broke out sobbing like a little girl.

"Charlotte?"

"Anthony ... Oh my god..."

"Look at me. Please look at me."

She pulled her hands from her face and squinted at me through hot salty tears like she was trying to stare directly into the sun.

"Will you marry me?"

She took the box and opened it. A $1700 ring sparkles like stars, I can tell you that right now, especially in candlelight. But there was joy in her eyes that no jewel could ever compete with. If you could have seen it, you would never doubt that there must be a God up there somewhere who honestly delights in making us happy in spite of the mess we've made of things down here.

She nodded. I took the ring and put it on her finger.

"Where did you... ? How... ?"

"Sold my truck. We had to guess at the size. I hope it's alright."

"Anthony, I ... oh my god ... It's so beautiful!"

"Now, I got it all figured out, okay. You're gonna have to hide this thing for a few days at least, until your dad gets back. And then I'm gonna ask him for permission. I'm gonna tell him about what's happened, with you being pregnant and all, and I'm gonna ask him if I can marry you. I'm scared to death about it, but just keep this hidden away somewhere for a few more days and we'll face the music then, okay?"

And Charlotte said, "Yes, anything you wish, my king, my champion, my lord. Anything you wish, for the rest of my life..." She sat up and hugged me, crying hard, and sorta babbling about how scared she is about everything but how she's never felt so happy in all her life, and that she feels safe with me, and how I deserve so much more than she could ever give me.

And that's how I asked Charlotte Lawsen to marry me. It was perfect. It was fairytale. It was all her girlish dreams come true. And she took me upstairs, and made love to me for the next three hours, completely nude except for her brand new ring. We lost all track of time, lost in each other, never realizing that we were in the eye of the hurricane right then, a quiet moment's respite before the storm hit full force once again.

The Australian press was on the hunt for us, and some of them had called their contacts in the States to try to track us down. The movie was now being wildly distributed all over the US and Western Europe. Kids everywhere were raving, parents and religious groups were ranting, and the press wanted us badly. It was fast becoming the biggest story of the year. And we still had no idea.

We only had a few hours of privacy left. The next afternoon, Don "Big D" McLeod, of McLeod Auto Sales heard about the two teens everyone in the country was looking for. He looked up the name and address he'd found on the pink slip for my truck, and sold it to the highest bidding reporter, along with the DVD he'd found stashed under the front seat.

And that was the end of our normal teenage lives.



-------

Chapter 42: A Beautiful Mess


It was Wednesday. Charlotte and I could barely think straight all day at school, and we both cut out of the last class of the day to hang out and plan how we would break the news to the Lawsens. Ron was home again, and we'd planned to tell them that night. They were out, so we sat around Charlotte's waiting for them to return.

There was a certain crackle of excitement in the air between us, an almost palpable energy. We just kept staring into each other's eyes, and grinning an almost crazy grin. There was terrified panic in that grin. There was love for each other. And there was a certain giddiness about breaking the big news to them, about our engagement. Our excitement was bubbling over. We barely talked about it. We just held each other's hands and grinned nervously while we moved about the place.

The phone rang constantly. We didn't answer it. I called my mom at some point and told her where I was and that I'd be staying for supper. At some point, Charlotte called Amy just to make sure everything was alright with her. They talked for a long while and wept together on the phone. Then I talked to Amy for a few minutes as well. It was so wonderful to hear her voice again. Honest to God, it was like the voice of a distant angel. She sounded sad and tired but so happy to hear my voice.

"Hiya, Ant."

"Hiya, Aims. How's yer bod?"

"Been better. Got a funeral tomorrow apparently."

"I heard."

"Everything'll be alright though, right?"

I wasn't sure if she was asking me or telling me. She seemed certain and yet hesitant at the same time.

"You're a brave girl, Aims. If things get rough for you tomorrow, just think about Charlotte and me. We'll be there with you in our hearts, okay?"

"I haven't stopped thinking about you guys since I left. My dad's probably sick of hearing about how wicked and cool and totally awesome you guys are."

It was the nice to hear her refer to Ron as her dad. It gave the universe a little bit more center somehow.

"I doubt he's sick of hearing how awesome his daughter is. He probably agrees with you completely. He was telling me yesterday how much he absolutely adores you to pieces too."

"He said that, huh?"

"Yeah. As soon as he got off the plane, and for about hours after that."

"He kept telling me too, over and over again, and I just thought he was being polite, telling me what he figured he was supposed to say."

"Nope. He's over the moon for you, girl. It's beautiful to see."

"How's Char doin'?"

"She's awesome. I love her to pieces too, forever and ever and ever."

This I was saying more to Charlotte than to Amy. She was sitting in my lap again, listening to Amy's voice on the phone. Then she started kissing me. She even took out her ring and kissed it about a dozen times too, and then me again. It felt wonderful.

"I'm sure she feels the same way."

"We figured out that little secret too, about the movie. Remember you were saying?"

"Oh, so you got your head out of the clouds finally?"

And Amy giggled. It was such a beautiful sound.

"Yup. It finally hit us the other night. I went down and talked to Sheila about it, and she told me I don't need to worry about nothin' but taking care of Charlotte for the rest of our lives."

"It's such a beautiful movie."

"Yeah. Sheila's awesome. I love her to pieces too."

"I heard on the news that these kids down in Australia made a sex video too, just like yours. All poetic and pretty. Some girl was gonna commit suicide but she changed her mind because of it. They don't even know who those kids are, but everyone's looking for them. Can you imagine if that happened with your movie!?"

"That's crazy. I can't even imagine."

I couldn't either. It was so far fetched in my mind at that point that the idea of our movie getting out never even occurred to me. At that point I was just thinking how cool it was that we weren't the only ones being creative and naughty like that.

"I wish I had the internet here. I wanna check out theirs and see if it's as good as yours. Apparently it's all over the world. You just do a search for it and there's like a million links to it now. I'm at my grandparents though. My grandma thought it was disgusting of course, but my grandpa just chuckled."

"I'm sure it's nowhere near as good as Sheila's."

"Me too. But I'm biased. You guys are the most beautiful people on earth in my books."

"You ain't so bad yourself, Aims."

"Thanks, I guess."

"So what else did you and your dad talk about?"

"I told him about how you popped my cherry," Amy said with a giggle.

"You did what!?"

"Yup. We stayed up all night talking on Sunday. It was beautiful. He asked me if I had a boyfriend and I told him, well, everything. About how I was saving myself for someone special and how the little dicks around here only wanna get into my pants, and how when I finally did lose my virginity it was with the sweetest guy ever who wouldn't hurt me if his life depended on it. And you know what he said? It's so funny. He says, 'Charlotte's got a guy like that too. I'm so happy for you girls.' I laughed out loud for like five minutes and I just had to tell him. He wanted to know what was so funny. Then he laughed with me. It was so sweet."

"That is pretty funny. He didn't even mention to me that he knew."

We talked for a few minutes more and finally said goodbye. Amy's grandma needed to use the phone. She said hi to us too though, before they hung up. She seemed like a nice lady. It made us feel better about Amy dealing with all the stuff over there without us.

We told her we loved her and that we would see her again soon. Then we hung up.

Charlotte was quiet for a few minutes, and then she said something funny.

"I'm craving ice cream."

I laughed at her.

"You're silly. Is that ice cream stuff starting already? You want pickles with that too?"

She smacked me in the arm. Then she got up and peeked out the window.

"Looks like they're not gonna be back for a while yet. Will you take me to the store?"

"Sure."

Off we went. We got in Steph's car (well, my car technically, just not officially yet) and I drove her down to the local convenience store, the place where we'd first met Jade. It was just before one o'clock. There were a bunch of girls hanging around, apparently skipping the tail end of their school day as well, drinking their drinks, chewing bubblegum, and giggling and talking too loud about girl stuff.

Here's where it got strange for Charlotte and I for the very first time. Looking back, it was quite a momentous occasion, but we were still pretty clued-out at the time. As soon as we got out of the car, the girls all looked over at who could possibly be driving such a hot car. Charlotte and I stepped out and their jaws dropped all at once. They're eyes went wide and their mouths gaped in awe. They started whispering as we walked up toward the door.

"It's them! Is that them, Trish!? Is that them!?"

"Oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god, it is them!"

Charlotte looked at me and I looked back at her. We were holding hands and we went into the store. We got some ice cream and a couple of drinks and stood there in line to pay for them. All the girls had their faces pressed to the glass and were chattering excitedly a mile a minute.

"Maybe they know us from school," Charlotte said. That was the only thing I could think of too, but they seemed far too excited to see us. It didn't add up.

Then we went out again, and they all just stood there in hushed awe like they were expecting us to say something. We stopped and stared at them, shaking our heads, confused.

"Hi. What's up, girls?" I said.

And they all screamed like I was a rock star or something. It startled us both. I almost dropped my drink. They started jumping up and down and hugging each other. One girl was shaking and almost crying. Very weird.

"You guys are, like, so awesome! I love you! I can't even speak!"

"Um ... why?" Charlotte asked. She was blushing. I must have been too.

As soon as Charlotte spoke though, they all screamed again, in a chorus of shrieking wails that actually burned my ears a bit. People turned to look from across the street. Apparently Charlotte was a rock star too.

"Well, have a good day," I said. And they squealed again.

We turned and headed for the car, hand-in-hand, looking back at them over our shoulders.

"Why do I feel suddenly naked all of a sudden?" Charlotte asked. "Did you see the way they were ogling us?"

I hadn't noticed.

"I'm just trying to figure out what the hell they're screaming about. You'd think we were famous or something."

"Come on. Let's go to the park."

But as we were getting in the car, the gaggle of girls came rushing up with pens and notebooks, asking for our autograph. Another girl took our picture with a digi-cam.

"You girls go to Frederick Ranger High too?" Charlotte asked. Her words were drowned out though.

"Can you sign this for me?"

"Sign my binder! Oh please! Oh please!"

I took the pen, hesitantly and signed everything they thrust at me: "A.J.M."

"You guys are like, so the best! I cried for an hour last night! I swear to god! Even my mom was crying, and that says a lot!"

"Crying? Why?" Charlotte asked.

But they all squealed again, not even hearing what she'd said. One girl hugged me, and then they all started grabbing me and hugging me. One of them bumped me, pushing past her friend and knocked my drink out of my hand. Pretty colors of Slushy splashed all over the pavement.

Some of them hurried around the car to get Charlotte's autograph as well. We had no idea what the hell was going on. I was honestly stunned. Completely clued-out. So was Charlotte. A bit of her ice cream dripped onto her finger and she licked it off before grabbing the girl's pen. When they saw that they all screamed even louder! One girl even started shaking and had to lean against the car to steady herself, like she was gonna faint or something.

"Oh my gawd! You're like so totally sexy! I wanna be you so bad!"

"Um, thanks..." Charlotte said. "But you're beautiful too. Don't try and be someone else. Just be you."

And they all screeched in demented glee again. My ears were starting to ring.

"Can we get a picture with you?"

Then they were standing beside us, taking pictures, crowding around and hugging us.

Then they said the strangest thing of all.

"Um, can you like, tell us what your names are? We don't even know."

"Our names?"

"Yeah. What's A.J.M. stand for anyway?"

"I'm Charlotte, and he's Anthony. Why would you know our names?"

"Charlotte and Anthony! Charlotte and Anthony! Oh my god! That's so sexy!" And there were more screams of glee.

I shook my head, amazed and confused. What the hell was so sexy about our names? And then they were hugging us again and one of them really got weird on Charlotte.

"I love you so much! You've changed my life! You really think I'm beautiful!?" There were tears running down her face.

"Of course you are, isn't she Anthony?"

"Gorgeous," I said. But I was sorry I did it. She nearly swooned again, and Charlotte had to steady her. Then they all screamed. Ouch!

"You're so sexy! You're so sexy! Oh my GOD!!!"

"Thank you, I guess. I'm not sure what..."

And then they all backed away slowly. Other people were looking over at us too, wondering who we were and why the girls were all totally freaking out. We got in the car and they stood there waving, and jumping up and down and cheering and then they all ran away all at once waving their autographs in the air.

"We've got pictures! We've got pictures! Nobody's gonna believe it, but we've got pictures! They're really real!"

Charlotte and I watched them go, stunned into silence.

"Okay, what the fuck was that about!?" I said. "Was that some sort of weird prank? Are we on camera or something?"

"Anthony, that girl was crying? Did you see that? She was crying! I'm scared."

"I know. I don't know what the hell is going on. Maybe they were high on something and thought we were someone else. They didn't even know our names."

"Yeah. Weird."

We drove off to the park and sat in the car, eating our ice cream and sharing Charlotte's drink. Then we spent some time just sitting there making out in the front seat, kissing and cuddling, and feeling one another up, but mostly just talking about everything. The park was pretty empty. Every kid in town was still in classes. There were some old folks walking their dogs and some young moms pushing strollers, but we were in a shady spot and they ignored us.

Charlotte took the ring out of her pocket and put it on, sighing happily and snuggling up to me again.

"You carry that thing with you everywhere?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I? I wish I could wear it! It's so beautiful. Isn't it beautiful?"

"It is."

"It's you. It represents you for me. Everywhere I go, whether you're with me or not, I have you holding my hand here, see?"

She held up her hand and we looked at the sparkling ring. Then we kissed some more.

"So what are we gonna tell them? We can't leave it too long."

"I don't know," Charlotte said.

"How do you think they'll react anyway?"

"I think they'll be upset at first. It was pretty irresponsible of me-"

"Of us."

"Of us, but once the initial shock wears off, I honestly think they'll be thrilled, especially when they see this. They know you're not gonna run out on me. They know-"

"How are they gonna be thrilled about it? No parent wants their sixteen-year-old daughter coming home pregnant, ring or no ring."

"Anthony. What's the most important thing in the world to them? Think hard for a moment."

"Um, you? Each other?"

"Exactly! They don't care about what people think, or what people might say, or how we're gonna come up with the money to feed ourselves and take care of the baby! All that stuff other girls have to deal with is like non-existent for us, not even a factor. All they'll see is a beautiful new baby on the way, someone else to love and treasure."

"I don't know, Char. I think they're gonna be upset about you not going to college, not going after your dreams. Parents care about that stuff you know. That's what's really at stake here."

"Well maybe my dreams will just have to change. Maybe you're my dream now. Making you happy, being a good wife, and taking care of our baby. Why can't that be my dream?"

"I guess if you can convince your parents of that, that's all that matters. But I kinda wanna see you make more of yourself some day too. I want you to be happy, successful, have a career and an exciting life."

"I've had all the excitement in my life I can handle already, thanks. A quiet calm and simple life with the man I love seems beautiful to me. Imagine you coming home from work and seeing me waiting there for you with supper ready and the baby down for a nap and giving you a nice blow job in the doorway to relieve the stress of a hard day's work. Imagine me looking all frumpy and sexy with my hair all over the place in a cute pair of sweats that you could just peel right off me and take me right there on the floor."

"I don't know Char. I'm kinda worried that I'll come home hoping for all that stuff and find you exhausted and frustrated and in no mood for romance and sexiness because the baby's been driving you nuts all day."

"Then you'll just have to make me feel better, won't you? I'm Charlotte, the Queen of sluts. I won't be able to resist you for long."

"That I can do. You'd get a nice backrub, a hot bath, I'd feed you from my own hand, take care of the baby all night and let you rest so I could make love to you in the evening."

"And every once in a while, we can leave the baby with Mick and Janine, or mom and dad, and just drive away for a night and fuck like bunnies again, dirty and nasty and sexy and free. It'll be so awesome!"

"Well it sounds pretty and romantic, but I don't think we really have any idea how much work a baby really is. We know it'll be tough, but all we'd seen is the Hollywood version of 'tough', where there's always a happy ending and a beautiful song as the credits roll. In real life there's always another challenge the next day. I suppose this is why so few couples make it."

"So few couples make it because they don't take care of each other when the going gets tough. They start seeing each other as the enemy, a problem to be dealt with, instead of a partner, on the same team. If people would just take care of one another, especially when things go wrong, there wouldn't even be a such thing as divorce. Like you take care of me. Like you love me, no matter what. That's how you get that forever."

"Life is complicated though, Char. It's not always the couple's own fault when things don't work out. Sometimes it just wasn't meant to be."

I sighed in a moment of silence and then continued.

" ... like my mom and dad."

"What happened with them? You've never told me that story."

"I don't even know. Just life I guess. Life throws you a few bad curves and everything falls apart. Suddenly you realize the person you thought you loved is someone totally different. Stress brings out the real person deep down inside and you don't always like what you see. Sometimes you just can't live with them anymore, no matter how hard you try. Sometimes you can't even live with yourself."

"Like when I was stressed out about everything, and fucked off with Vincenzo..."

"Yeah, like that I guess. Exactly. Except that I still loved you through it all. I know that's not what you're really about. That's just how you used to deal with shit. You're different now."

"I'm in love now. And most important of all, I'm not afraid of it."

"I sure hope Sheila finds someone special some day. That girl's ten times awesome herself. She'll make someone very happy one day."

"It's weird though. Somehow I can't imagine her loving anyone but you. Ever ... You're just too perfect."

And Charlotte seemed sad all of a sudden. I looked at her. She looked at her ring. And then I kissed her again. Then we made out some more. We fooled around for half an hour. I even had her shirt up and was suckling on her nipples while she kept watch. Then she gave me a blow job and I had to yank my shirt down over my erection every time someone went strolling by our car, but she'd go back down again and I just petted her head as she toyed with me.

"My sexy man..."

We got out of the car, and walked around the park for a while, talking some more about our future, our plans, our dreams, the little details that would be our life. It was heavenly. But then she had to pee.

We went into the public bathroom by the picnic shelter. There was a lock on the door and I locked it. Charlotte went pee and I stood there watching her from the sink. There was no door on the stall.

"Enjoying the view, boy?" she asked.

"My god, you're even sexy when you piss. How fucked up is that?"

"Pretty fucked up, but I'm sure it's not the actual piss that's turning you on. I'm sure it's the idea that you could take me and fuck me up against the wall right here as soon as I'm done."

"Can I?"

"As soon as I'm done."

She wiped herself, but didn't bother pulling up her pants. I took her in my arms and kissed her and she wriggled my cock down into her crevice. Then I was inside her and she moaned beautifully in my ear.

"God, I'm so fucking lucky!" she said.

I said nothing. I took her and we fucked up against the wall under the flickering light of a half burned out bulb, trying our best to keep quiet. My cock slipped in and out of her and I lifted her legs up off the floor, across my arms, pressing her back against the wall. It was dirty and smelly in there, but we were too lost in one another to notice. I needed to make her come, and she needed to let me. Then I dropped her down again, and turned her around to take her from behind. She bent over halfway, resting her elbows on the cold brick and thrusting her beautiful ass backward at me, arching her back, letting me take her, and moaning like a gorgeous little slut as I did.

I grabbed her ass hard and squeezed it.

"My sexy ass. Mine!" and I thrust harder, pressing her face right into the wall. That did it for her. She came with a muffled squeak and suddenly there was girl cum oozing down my shaft, warm and slippery and sweet. Her palms and cheek pressed into the painted bricks and she tensed up in every part of herself, struggling to keep from screaming. Her tightness sucked hard on me, begging for my cum, but I just enjoyed the moment inside her, with no climax of my own.

For some reason I was thinking about those girls at the convenience store, the way they had all squealed like they were coming or something, just from looking at us.

Charlotte shook and shivered through her orgasm, flinching and jiggling in front of me as I stroked her softly with my cock. It was yet another beautiful experience of my beautiful, beautiful girlfriend, my fiancé, and I could not have been happier. And then she turned around, dropped to her knees on the dirty cement floor and sucked my cock hard and fast, eagerly dragging a second orgasm out of me. I gave it to her after a few minutes of ecstatic, heart-pounding bliss, and she took it with a giggling little squeal of excitement. The light flickered off again, struggling to come back on, but couldn't make it. There was only a crack of light coming from under the door, and the beautiful warmth of Charlotte's mouth on my throbbing, twitching wet cock.

"Mmmmmmm..." she said, in a long and gratuitous purr. She absolutely adored my cock. It was obvious, and that made me even happier. I looked forward to a lifetime of such endearing love. She popped off me and swallowed again, sighing happily in the darkness, stroking my cock and kissing it lovingly, like it was her greatest treasure.

Then she stood up, brushed off her knees, and put my dick away, zippering up my pants for me and adjusting my shirt. The light flickered back on and her eyes were wide with excited love. I grabbed her and hugged her hard, and I told her I loved her over and over again.

"You're so beautiful. You're so sexy. You're so sweet to me. I'm so lucky. I love you so much."

"I love you too, baby. Any time you want it, just ask okay? I'll drop everything for you, anytime. You own me, okay? Don't ever forget it."

She wadded some paper towels and toilet paper and cleaned herself up, complaining about the messes she makes when she comes, but not really very upset about it. I told her I loved her pretty little messes and kissed her again.

And then we were walking back to the car, hand in hand, looking to all the world like two teenagers who just fucked each other very eagerly. Luckily nobody was around.

"Let's tell them," I said. "Let's go home and tell them right now. I love you more than anything in the world, and I don't care what happens. I'm ready to confess to all the world that you're mine and I'll love you forever. Let's do it."

"Let's do it then," she agreed. And we got in the car and went home.

Almost three hours had gone by. It was just before six by then.

We pulled into the driveway, holding hands, both of us shaking badly, but grinning like loons. We kissed passionately for another five minutes and walked into the house holding hands, ready to face our destiny.

And face our destiny we did. The Lawsens were on the couch watching the news.

"Tonight's top story, a channel five exclusive: two local teenagers have made international news this week after creating what appears to be a homemade sex video. The video has apparently been released over the World Wide Web and has now been seen by thousands if not millions of people all around the globe. And the downloads are increasing every hour.

"Parents, teachers, and religious groups are outraged of course, but the overwhelming response has been surprisingly positive."

Then the shot cut to a group of teenagers being interviewed about the video, guys and girls. A teenage girl chattered excitedly into the microphone.

"Oh my god! They are so sexy! And it's not even nasty or anything! It's like beautiful and pretty and poetic! I know people are gonna think it's dirty, just cause it's sex, but they're losers and they should shut up! I cried my eyes out! That's what love is supposed to be like! I want love like that!"

The news anchor continued, voicing over a blurred-out image of the video. It looked a lot like our video. My knees went weak. Charlotte's hand shook in mine.

"The identity of the two teenage participants remained a mystery as the video spread like wildfire all over the world, until in a bizarre twist of events on par with any Hollywood blockbuster, they were tracked down after the young man apparently sold his truck to a used car dealer with the video stashed under the seat. The car salesman, who wished to remain anonymous himself, identified the teenager in the video as a student at a local high school. Students at the school confirmed their identity as well. The two teenage stars were nowhere to be found however and have perhaps gone into hiding."

I suddenly felt weak. I suddenly felt like I would faint. I suddenly felt like I would die.

"The video is most popularly known as Beautiful Poetry Sex Thing, but has been copied under dozens of other names as well. It's approximately six minutes long, and includes shots of legs, and backs, and hips, inter-cut with poetry and what appears to be love letters the kids wrote to one another. Surprisingly, it's being heralded as a work of cinematic mastery by even the world's toughest critics."

The report cut to an apparently eminent film critic from Britain who talked about the artistic use of gestures and eye-play to convey a depth of emotion, truth, and the "bare naked beauty of love" rarely seen except in the most acclaimed productions ever made.

"I've no idea who these kids are, but what they've done is nothing short of genius."

I didn't feel like a genius. In fact, I'd never felt more foolish in my entire life.

The clips from the video rolled by, with Charlotte singing over the quotations floating on the screen while the anchor went on about the specific content, and what it didn't include.

"Viewers looking for hardcore pornography will be disappointed by this production; the sex in it is merely suggested, but that's still enough to rile parental and religious groups all over the world."

Then they got reactions from an uptight-looking crone of a woman who was apparently furious that Charlotte and I even existed.

"We're in a battle, warring for the hearts and minds and souls of our young people everywhere, and then this comes along and sets us back ten years! It's atrocious! Where are these kids' parents!?"

"How do you respond to people who say it's not even really x-rated, there's no actual graphic sex shown on the screen at any point?"

"It's filthy! It's disgusting! Teenagers should not be having sex at all, never mind filming it! That isn't love! It's sin!"

Then they interviewed a parent who disagreed, saying she'd love for her daughter to watch the video, to know that when you have sex there should be love involved.

"These two in the video, they love each other deeply. You can see it in their eyes. It's beautiful. It's an example for kids everywhere, to make something special out of sex. They're gonna do it anyway, it might as well mean something."

Then they went into the story about the girl from Australia, Michelle St. Martin, who changed her mind about killing herself after watching the video.

Suddenly Gerri Meskaleck was on camera being interviewed. Charlotte screamed beside me, but stopped it halfway by slapping her hand over her mouth.

"Classmates say they're perfectly normal teens, and somewhat popular in their school."

"We love Char! She's like queen of the school! But when we saw the video it was like 'Oh my god! How frickin' awesome is that! I never saw anything so beautiful and sexy in all my life!' She hasn't been to classes, I guess because they were making it, but we just wanted to say we love you Charlotte! Come back to us!"

"We love you!" a bunch of girls cheered.

Then one of Charlotte's teachers came on the screen, Mrs. Ashton.

"They're good kids. This is gonna really mess up their lives. But kids do stupid things. They just happened to do something that got broadcast all over the world on the internet. It's really too bad. I really like Charlotte. She's a sweet girl. Very bright. She's a leader."

The news report went on and on, looking at the social and legal ramifications of the release, the question of where the parents were while this was going on, and the potential uproar it might cause "in the lives of teens all over the world as copycat videos are produced and released by impressionable young kids who see these two as heroes."

"Reactions vary from outrage to elation, but one thing's for sure: the lives of these two teens will never be the same."

"In other news..."

Ron and Stephanie turned to look at us with absolutely astonished eyes, disbelieving that this was even reality. But the most burning question in their gaze was "What have you done!? Oh my god, what have you two done!?"

Then the phone started ringing, and it didn't stop for three weeks.



-------

Chapter 43: Consequences


Nothing hurts more than feeling like you've let someone down, someone who believes the best about you, thinks the world of you, loves you even. To have them look at you with an almost broken-hearted look of disappointment is enough to nearly kill you inside. Now add to that feeling a steady build up of other stresses and tragedies, and you've got the recipe for a nervous breakdown.

And I almost did snap too. I felt something in my brain throb and crackle and there was a bright flash of light behind my eyes. My body detached itself from my head, or seemed to, and I drifted away for a moment, deep inside myself, watching myself standing there, moaning, whimpering, letting out these weird humming sounds like a man who thinks he can just close his eyes and make it all go away.

Charlotte had fainted beside me, but I didn't even notice. I was staring at the floor, trying not to look at the tears in Stephanie's eyes, or the fierce look of betrayal in Ron's. It looked like betrayal anyway. It may have just been disbelief, or even confusion.

"Charlotte!" Stephanie called out, jumping from the couch to hurry over to her. I turned to look. Everything seemed like it was in slow motion, far away and echoey. All I could hear was the strange buzzing in my ear, like a bomb had gone off next to me, stunning me and striking me deaf. I later realized it was simply a panic attack I was going through. My blood pressure shot off the scale, throbbing hard in my ears, and my breathing shut down to short sharp gasps like I was drowning. That explained the stars I was seeing. That explained the feeling of being crushed in a bear hug until my head would pop. Somewhere in the distance I heard a ringing phone.

Ron got up just as quickly and carried Charlotte over to the couch. I remember slurring something at him, something about how it was all supposed to be secret, just for fun, just for us. I must have sounded like a drunk. He looked at me, confused once again, and turned back to Charlotte. I finally felt my legs give out and I sagged down to the floor, bumping the back of my head into the counter that divided the kitchen from the main hall.

Then I closed my eyes and everything faded away for real.

When I opened them I was lying on the other couch, and Ron was dabbing my face with a wet cloth.

"Just breathe, Anthony. Take a deep breath. Don't try to talk. Just breathe. Deep and slow."

"It was just for us. I didn't mean to-"

"Just breathe..."

"Charlotte! Charlotte, wake up, honey! Charlotte!"

Ron looked over at her. I just stared up at the ceiling above him, trying to remember what had just happened. Everything was blurry and fuzzy.

"Just relax. We'll get this all sorted out. Just relax. You kids have done something really ... bad ... but we'll get it sorted out."

"They must have done this while we were in Canada, just a few days ago. Oh my god! How could it have spread so quickly!?"

That was Stephanie again. Her voice was shaken with emotion. The phone paused for half a second in its ringing and started up again.

"When did you do this?" Ron asked me.

"You were away ... on your trip. We ... downstairs..."

"Who else was involved? Who was working the camera? The audio?"

"A friend. She directed ... She edit ... We did the ... acting."

My mouth felt numb, like I couldn't make it work.

"How could it spread all over the world so fast!?" Stephanie repeated.

Ring ... ring ... ring...  I wished the phone would shut up. It was making my head hurt.

"Did you upload it to the internet?" Ron asked.

"No. It was just for us. We didn't want any-wuh see it, ever. Someone musta stoled it. Someone muss..."

"Charlotte! Charlotte, wake up! She's waking up, Ron! Charlotte?"

I looked over at her, lying on the other couch. Her eyes opened. She blinked a few times, moaned long and loud as though realizing she was still in hell, and then she started crying, helpless, piteous, pathetic sobs, the cry of a girl for whom all hope was lost.

"Momma..."

Stephanie hugged her hard. Then sat up again, feeling her forehead for fever, checking her head for bumps.

"Did you hit your head, baby? Are you hurt?"

"Momma, I'm sorry. Please don't hate me."

Charlotte covered her face with her hands, weeping. Her ring sparkled like sunshine. Stephanie's eyes widened when she saw it.

"Momma doesn't hate you. Don't say that."

"I'm sorry, momma. I don't know how it got out. I don't know what happened. It was supposed to be secret. It was... uhhhhhhhng..."

Then she turned toward the edge of the couch and threw-up strawberry Slushy and ice cream all over the carpet.

"Oh my god! Charlotte! Ron, I think she hit her head! I think she has a concussion."

I shook my head, closing my eyes for a moment.

"She didn't hit her head, Stephie," I said in my slurring, drunken voice. "She's pregnant."

Stephanie had been hurrying over to get a towel from the kitchen and she suddenly slipped and fell on her ass. Charlotte turned some more, and more messy colors came out of her. "Bleeeehhh!"

Ron stared at me, then at her, then turned away and put his head in his hands. I think maybe he was having a panic attack of his own. Stephanie just sat there, stunned, and then she lay down on the hallway floor. All was quiet, except for the ringing phone, until I spoke.

"We were gonna tell you. We were gonna tell you all about it. That's what we came in here to say just now. But when we saw the news on TV..."

Ron got up slowly. He walked over to the phone, ripped it out of the wall and threw it overhand into the fireplace where it shattered like glass into dozens of pieces. I think it was made of glass or something. Pieces of it flew everywhere. It was the first time I'd ever seen him angry. I should have been afraid, but I just felt really, really remorseful. He was such a peaceful man. Look what I'd done to him.

He took a deep breath, calmed down, walked over to Stephanie and helped her to her feet. He led her up the spiral staircase to the second floor and disappeared down the hall toward their bedroom. He didn't say anything to me or Charlotte. Neither did Stephanie, once he took her arm.

I lay on the couch, finally coming back to my senses, not feeling anywhere close to being okay, but at least the world seemed to reattach itself to my head. I rolled over and slid slowly onto the floor and crawled to Charlotte. She was holding her stomach and whimpering, with her eyes shut tight and her hands clutching her stomach. She was shivering, overwhelmed by stress. Her lip was quivering like she was cold. But her face felt hot. I just hugged her, feeling a strange sense of joy that she was really real, and here she was for me to hug in the darkest point of my life. She was the only thing in my world that wasn't complete and total hell.

I kissed at her tears and held her hand to my face. Then I just closed my eyes and laid my head down upon her chest. Her hand moved to caress my hair. Her heart seemed to be beating slowly. It reminded me of the heartbeat in the movie. I almost expected to hear that beautiful song.

Ron and Stephanie talked for a long time upstairs. They didn't yell, but I heard Steph crying every few minutes. I just held Charlotte until she stopped shaking. Then I got up and decided to clean the throw-up as well as I could. I mopped it up with a sponge, a bucket of water, and some cleaner I found under the kitchen sink. It wasn't a perfect job, but it didn't smell anymore.

Then I knelt beside Charlotte again and kissed her once more.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"No," she replied, barely whispering. "I've broken daddy's heart."

"Who could have done it, Char? We were so careful! Steve? Mick and Janine and Sheila were the only other ones there."

"I don't know. What does it matter though? It's out. We're fucked. What are we gonna do now?"

"Those girls at the store ... they must have seen it..."

And Charlotte fell to sobbing again.

"Our lives are over. What are we gonna do?"

"I don't know. I just wanna run away and never show my face in public again."

"I just wanna die," Charlotte said, and for the first time I felt a real sense of my responsibility in this whole mess. I'd planned it. I'd lied to so many people to make it happen. I'd carried it out. I could have stopped at any time, but I didn't. And now it was done. Now it was out and there was nothing we could do to take it back. Now the woman I loved wanted to die. And it was all my fault.

"Charlotte, don't say that. You don't mean that. This is bad, but our lives aren't over. We're in this together. We're gonna get through this."

"I just wanna die. Why can't I just die?"

Her weeping was killing me inside. It was making me wanna go to the kitchen, get a knife, and stab myself in the heart. I would have died right there and then without a second thought if it could have taken her grief away. Instead I just petted her hair.

"Oh, Anthony, why does everything have to happen all at once? What did we do that was so wrong?"

"We didn't do anything wrong. We just..."

I didn't know how to finish that sentence though. Maybe we did do something wrong. Maybe we did a lot of things wrong. We'd certainly made a mess of things for the Lawsens, for their business, for their private personal lives, for their peaceful happy home.

But how could we have known this would happen? We took every step to be careful. We took every precaution. We only made one copy.

Oh, yes. One copy...

The bitter realization hit me right then. I'd stashed the disc under the front seat of my truck on Sunday night. I'd completely forgotten about it and sold my truck yesterday afternoon with the DVD still in it. That salesman must have found it, copied it, released it to the world. It was all my fault after all.

No. There's no way it could have gone all over the world overnight. As strange as everything was, that truly was impossible. The movie had to have already been out when he found it. The world was already looking for us. He probably just helped them find us. He probably just-

"Anthony."

It was Ron, standing behind the couch behind me. I was on my knees beside Charlotte cuddling and kissing her hand, lost in thought. I looked up at him. Steph was standing with him. They didn't seem angry. They didn't even seem sad. They just looked very calm.

"We want to show you something, Anthony. It's very important. Charlotte, you too. Can you get up?"

Charlotte sat up slowly. I helped her to her feet. She wobbled a bit but I steadied her. Stephanie offered her the wet cloth Ron had used to wipe my face with, and she cleaned up around the edge of her mouth. Then she went to the sink and got some water. She walked slowly, on shaky legs, tears still streaming down her face. She looked like she didn't want to look into her parents' eyes.

"We want to show you what you've done with your lives. I hope you're prepared."

I looked at him, confused. He wasn't holding anything. He didn't lead us upstairs or downstairs. He just stood there staring, waiting for Charlotte.

"What is it?" I asked.

He picked up the remote from the couch and turned the TV back on. There was a shot of a small suburban neighborhood taken from a helicopter where a single house was thronged by a massive crowd in the street. "Besieged!" the caption read. The sound was muted. I couldn't tell what I was looking at right away, but as the helicopter swung around I recognized a red car in the driveway.

Ron nodded at me. Charlotte covered her mouth with her hand.

"Go look outside," he said.

We walked hand-in-hand toward the door and as we approached we heard the faint chopping of a helicopter. I pulled it open and heard the murmuring of voices, a whole lot of voices. We opened the door and stepped out onto the front step. There were hundreds of them, thousands maybe. They filled the entire street. They suddenly fell to an awed hush when we stepped out. The helicopter fluttered above.

A moment later the mob went wild. The roar was deafening. They all erupted at once as we stepped onto the front stairs holding hands. I got chills. Every hair on my body stood on end all at once. I tingled all over. I shuddered. They whistled, they screamed, they pumped their fists in the air and they hollered at the top of their lungs. Girls were weeping, jumping up and down, squealing and swooning, shouting things at us between hands cupped around their mouths. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but it looked like something joyous. There were so many tear-streaked faces, so many hands clutched against hearts, or holding other hands above each other's heads. Charlotte and I just stood there in shock, shaking like we were standing on the fault line of our own personal earthquake. Ron and Stephanie stood behind us in the doorway, just as stunned as we were. They had apparently looked out the window upstairs and seen what was going on, flicked on the television, and then come down to tell us.

"Looks like you're a hit," Ron said.

"But, why?" Charlotte said. I didn't get it either. It was just a movie, wasn't it?

A thin little blond girl with tears flowing down her smiling face held up a placard that said: "I like who I am! I'm not afraid!" Another one with a picture of two hands holding a heart over the planet earth said: "The world is solved like a puzzle!" There were more, but we couldn't make out the writing.

They started chanting the lines from the movie, all in unison. A group of girls began it over by the driveway, and soon the entire crowd had joined in. Charlotte and I stood in awe. They already had it memorized, word for word, all of them. And they were shouting it at the top of their lungs, wanting to let us know that they'd heard us, and that they understood.

"Love won't make you suddenly flawless and perfect, but it'll take away the fear that keeps you from fighting towards it. Love is the path toward perfection, not the destination. You walk it, if you're not afraid, with everyone in your life who cares about every beautiful thing they see inside you. You go all the way to the end with the one person who sees more deeply inside you than anyone else on earth, even you."

They paused, just like in the movie, and then continued.

"I'm not gonna live forever. I'm gonna die someday. And when I go, I want to know that I mattered to at least one person in this world. That's the whole purpose of my life..."

And the cheers exploded all over again when they were done, louder than ever. A young girl, thirteen, maybe fourteen, held up a placard above the crowd, hand-written in bright red letters: YOU MATTER TO ME! And Charlotte pressed her face into my shoulder, crying once again.

"You'd better get used to this," Ron said. "It's gonna be crazy like this for a few days. Maybe even a few weeks."

And then I saw my mother. She pushed through the crowd and hopped over the waist-high hedge at the corner of the yard opposite the driveway, and came running across the yard. Uh-oh! Suddenly I imagined she was here to tear a strip off of the Lawsens for ruining her son's life. The crowd went quiet for a moment, watching the lady hurry towards us. I stepped off the stoop and stumbled forward to meet her. She caught me in a hug and just stood there bawling her eyes out.

"Mom!" I said. "What are you doing here?"

"It's his mom!" someone shouted from the street, and the crowd went wild all over again.

"What have you done!? My crazy silly boy! What have you done!?"

But she wasn't sad or angry. They were tears of joy.

"Come here. I want you to meet the Lawsens, Charlotte's parents."

I led her over and introduced them. She shook their hands and hugged Charlotte hard, kissing her on the cheek.

"I saw the video! I saw you guys on the news and I couldn't get a hold of you, so I downloaded the video from work. It was ... astonishing! I don't know what to say. I walked out of my shift and came right over to see you. What have you done!?"

"There's more," Stephanie told her, smiling at us. "Anthony, you wanna tell her the other news?"

"Mom! Mom, I ... I have to tell you something else."

"What? What else have you done?"

"Charlotte's pregnant. She's gonna have a baby, mom. My baby. We're getting married."

Her jaw dropped. I didn't know whether she was upset or overjoyed. She just looked stunned. Charlotte held up her hand and showed her the ring. She looked at it and then at me, puzzled.

"I sold the truck, mom. I got $3000 for it. I bought Charlotte the ring and asked her to marry me. She said yes."

The crowd exploded into thunderous applause once again, and this time they even drowned out the helicopter. Charlotte turned and showed her ring to the mob of people and then turned and kissed me, as if to say "too bad, girls! This one's landed!" They didn't seem anything but happy for us. We were, apparently, their heroes, the new icons of true love.

Ron waved at the crowd and ushered us into the house.

We talked for hours, spilling the entire story to them, from the moment the idea first came to us, to the moment we walked into the door at about six o'clock. Our parents listened intently the whole time, asking questions, staying calm, being patient and understanding, especially when we told them how terribly sorry we were for deceiving them. We were paying the price for that now. The consequences were overwhelming, both good and bad.

Ron held up his hands to interrupt.

"So this Sheila Unger, does anyone else know that she was involved? Your lives have been turned upside down. There's no reason why her life has to be wrecked as well."

"Nobody knows, as far as we know. She used only our initials in the credits. People might be able to guess, but it would only be a guess."

"There were no credits in the internet version," mom told us. "It just ended after the last quotation."

"I wanna see this thing," Stephanie said. "Can we go watch it?"

Ron got up and we all followed him down to his office in the basement. It was opposite the laundry room and bathroom, on the other side of the stairs, a door in the corner of the basement that led into a room next to the studio.

"This must be where you make your ... productions?" mom said, seeing the cameras surrounding the bed.

"Yes it is," Stephanie replied.

Mom, over the past few hours had apparently let go of her prejudices and seemed absolutely charmed by Stephanie. She was still in a daze—we all were—but she was a long way off from the screaming fit I'd expected her to throw.

We stepped into the office and went to the computer. A quick internet search led us to the "Beautiful Poetry Sex Thing" and we downloaded it. The quality wasn't exactly DVD-level, but you could see everything clear enough. Ron, Stephanie, and mom watched it in wide-eyed wonder. I especially studied Ron's reaction. He was a movie buff, a director and producer—he knew his stuff, and when I saw the far-away look of amazement in his eyes, I suddenly felt a million times better.

"Sheila did all this, knowing we were broken up," Charlotte whispered. "She wanted us to get back together, even though she's been desperately in love with Anthony for years."

All three women were crying. Ron still looked amazed.

"How long did it take her to edit this? It's ... brilliant! Absolutely ... astonishing!"

Apparently I'd missed something. I knew it was good, but here was Ron talking about it like it was an epic masterpiece. Maybe it was. He'd know.

"You're so beautiful, you guys!" Stephanie said, sniffling. "No wonder there are ten thousand kids out there."

Suddenly I saw the thing again and it seemed brand new. I saw it through the eyes of the girls at the convenience store. I saw it through the eyes of Miss Ashton at school, and Geraldine Meskaleck, Michelle St. Martin, and dozens of other people as the songs and quotes rolled by. I was a little astonished myself.

"And that's you singing, Char?" Ron asked.

"Yes, daddy."

A tear spilled down his cheek. He loved his daughter so much it was almost exploding inside him, suddenly I understood that a whole lot better as I watched the ending again through his eyes.

They were quiet for a while, and then they looked over at Charlotte and I. We were standing there holding hands, staring at them sheepishly. Eventually Ron spoke.

"You have to understand the big picture here, guys. We're just getting over this whole thing with Amy and her mom. And then, when we've barely shaken that stress off, we turn on the news and find out our daughter's suddenly an international celebrity with her own homemade sex video. We find out she's lied to us, gone behind our backs with her boyfriend who we trusted explicitly. She's defied our rules, and completely and totally made a mess of all our lives, our lives that we've worked so hard to keep quiet and peaceful in spite of our success.

"And then five minutes later we find out she's pregnant too. You have to understand how mind-bending that is, to- to try and deal with that all at once. It's a wonder I didn't throw a chair through the window. But I brought Stephanie upstairs and we talked about it. We came to some decisions about what this all means, and what it doesn't mean. And just when we were ready to tear ten strips off of you and lay down the biggest punishment a teenager's ever faced, we look out the window and realize that you've ... changed the world...

"So we stop and really think about what that news anchor was saying, about the reaction of kids all over the world, and everything else. Then we turn on the news again, and there's more of it. It's everywhere, on almost every channel! Girls crying, people hugging, talking about how they just want to be beautiful, just want to finally love themselves for real and not be afraid of what anyone thinks any more, and just be naked and real, and truly know love, 'like the girl in the poetry sex video.'

"And then we go outside and see them all, their faces, their voices, their cheers, their signs, their tears. They believe these words you've shared in this video, guys. They really do. This world's done nothing but tell kids they're worthless unless they have wild meaningless sex, and buy a certain brand of soda pop and bubblegum, and dress like tramps and listen to trashy music.

"Now you've come along and changed all that. We can see it with our own eyes.

"And this Sheila Unger. I don't know what to say about her. She comes out of left field, with no training at all, and makes something so ... pure genius, that says so many things on so many levels, all in such a short amount of time. People will be studying this thing for years and they may not figure it all out. The layers are astonishing. The depth of- of sound, and motion, and color, and cuts, and cross-cuts, and focus, and angles, and timing, and her use of silence ... and song, and ... just everything! I could learn so much from this girl. I'm anxious to ask her how she did it. I'm ready to offer her a job for god's sake."

Ron was getting excited, talking about film. His voice had been getting louder. He realized it and paused, taking a breath and calming down.

"But there are consequences, guys. More than you realize. Surely you know what you're risking now. Stephanie can tell you all about it first hand. There are maniacs out there. There are psychos and lunatics who are watching this thing and not seeing beauty and love. They're seeing a teenage girl who they would get off on hurting, maybe even killing. For the rest of your lives you're gonna have to be guarded, watched, protected. It is a beautiful world out there, full of love and peace and potential. You've shown us that with this little movie of yours. But there's bad guys too. I think you realize that. I'm not just saying this to scare you.

"Yes, I can hire bodyguards. I can even get someone to watch over your mom until this thing cools off a bit, but the peaceful days of just going for a moonlit stroll all by yourselves are over. You realize that, don't you?"

"Yeah..."

"But everything's gonna be okay," Ron continued. "You're having a baby. The idea takes some getting used to, but we have enough resources to deal with that as well. You're gonna finish school, get college degrees and make something of yourselves, both of you, even if we have to bring the college to you. You haven't lost your happily ever after yet. You've got a hard road ahead, but we're gonna be here to help.

"Most of all, we want you to know we still love you. And we're so proud of you we could burst. You have no idea. I'm sure your mom agrees too, Anthony."

"I do," my mom said.

Nothing feels better than knowing that the ones you love the most are proud of you, that someone believes the best about you, thinks the world of you, and still loves you, even though you've made the biggest blunder of your entire life. To have them look at you with an almost broken-hearted look of joyous pride is enough to nearly kill you inside. It seemed to take away all of the other stresses and tragedies that had built up around us, and all in a single instant, suddenly all was right with the world again.

Except for one thing. Sheila.



-------

Chapter 44: Curtains

I found her in the dark, in the basement, this time with no music playing. All was quiet. I made my way over to her bedside and found her sleeping. Above her bed was a basement window, covered with a heavy blanket that blocked out all light. I stood up and unhooked the corner of it from the nail that held it in place. It fell away and light spilled into the room.

Then I sat down beside her again. I put my hand on her leg. Her eyes opened, squinting at me. She lifted her right hand to shield them.

"Ant?" she said, in a thin, croaky voice.

"Wake up, wake up. You've changed the world, my friend."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

She rubbed her eyes, sneering at the dusty sunbeam that violated her artificial night.

"The movie's out."

"What movie?"

"Charlotte's Movie."

"It is?"

"It is. It's all over the world. Haven't you been watching the news?"

"I haven't been out of this bed. What the hell is going on?"

"You've changed the world, my dear. That's what's going on."

"Changed the world? How?"

"Someone got a hold of a copy of the movie and uploaded it to the Net. Within a matter of days it's spread all over the world. It's changing people's lives, She. You wouldn't believe it if I told you. I don't believe it myself, but it's really happening."

"What? What's happening? I don't know what you're saying?"

"The movie is out, Sheila! It's all over the fucking world! It's everywhere! Last I heard, it's been translated into nine different languages. Wake up, wake up! The world's changed because of you. Kids are talking about true love and just being themselves and not caring what other people think anymore, and just being naked, and true, and honest, and finding meaning in love. And it's all because of you."

"This is some kind of joke. I don't believe you."

"I just came from the Lawsen's. Ron's talking about offering you a job as a director for Lawsen Publications. Maybe not in porn, but I think he's been wanting to branch out into legitimate film anyway. He says he's been considering for a while. Then, when he saw your movie, he says you inspired him to go for it once and for all."

"If you're yanking my chain, I'm gonna kill you, Ant."

"He wants me to write a script, Sheila, and he wants you to direct. He's even gonna pay us the standard market salaries! For you that's about $250,000!"

Sheila's voice choked.

"Anthony don't fuck around with me! That's cruel!"

"I'm not! You need to get upstairs and turn on the news! Open up these god damn curtains of yours and let the world in again!"

"You're really serious!"

I nodded. She sat up and hugged her knees, shaking a bit. She sat like that for the longest time. She was crying. I was so happy for her I wanted to cry too.

"You have no idea what this means to me," she said.

"About the same as it means to me, Sheila."

"No. It means more to me. Way more."

"How come? What's up?"

She looked up at me. Her eyes were weary, aged beyond her years.

"You really wanna know?"

I nodded, wanting to hug her. But she seemed like she was afraid to touch me.

"I got an email a few days ago, from a friend of mine, Ralph, from New Zealand. We belong to an amateur film makers group online. We've been friends for a few years now. He told me the movie was out. He told me to brace myself because shit's gonna hit the fan in a big way."

"How'd he know it was your movie, Sheila?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. Suddenly I realized the whole truth. Suddenly I understood the weariness in her eyes.

"Because I was the one who sent it to him," she said. "I'm sorry, Anthony. I shouldn't have done it. I've made a mess of everything, I've destroyed all our lives. But I just had to share it with at least one person, someone who understands the full extent of what I made. I poured my whole heart into it. I just had to share it. It was like sharing myself with someone who really understood, who wasn't so wrapped up in their own problems, they couldn't see the big picture. But it was selfish and thoughtless. I'm so sorry."

"You shared your heart and you changed the world."

"There's more, Anthony."

Her tone went grave; her crying stilled.

"What, She? What?"

"I knew the shit was gonna hit the fan. I saw it coming. I knew I'd destroyed your life with my selfishness, and I couldn't face it. I couldn't bare the idea that I'd hurt you in any way. I didn't even want to live anymore."

"What are you saying, Sheila?"

"Look in the trunk, Anthony. Look in the trunk."

I unlocked the trunk with the little key she gave me and lifted the lid. The porn was gone, every single movie, every book and every magazine—gone. The chest was completely empty except for a picture of me, a letter in a sealed envelope with my name on it, and a bottle of sleeping pills.

"Sheila..."

"What do you suppose that note says, Anthony?"

"Oh my god, Sheila..."

"It says that ever since I've known you, you've been my one true love, that your every hurt kills me inside, that you're the most beautiful person on earth, every tear in your eye stabs me through the heart. It says I'd rather die than see you hurt in any way, especially if it's my fault, and this is all my fault. It says that I'm gonna get in a bath, take the bottle of pills, slash my veins open in the hot water, and bleed to death by candlelight and soft music, dreaming that once upon a time you might have been mine. It's says I love you with all my heart. And it says I'm sorry."

"Oh my god, Sheila! How could y-"

"I've got nobody, Ant! I'm all alone! You've got Char. I've got nobody! Just my songs, my memories, and my pointless dreams. I didn't see any reason to go on. I didn't see any point to my life at all, especially after I've hurt you so badly."

"But you didn't go through with it."

"I almost did. I filled the bath. I got the candles and CD player going. I put the knife on the edge of the tub, I had a glass of apple juice ready beside it. But when I was getting into the bath the knife fell. I knocked over the apple juice and slipped on it, I sliced my knee open on a broken piece of glass, and knocked myself out on the floor."

"Are you okay?"

"I've got a cut on my knee and a bump on my head. But I could have been dead."

"You didn't go through with it."

Sheila started crying once again, and this time she didn't stop. She whispered with a voice that only wanted to weep; her words cut through the darkness like a dusty sunbeam.

"While I was laying there unconscious, I had a dream, Ant. For the first time in months, I had a dream. I saw daddy. He was standing on a train platform in front of a black train, holding a movie camera. I walked up to him and asked him if he was really real. He just smiled. He took my suitcase from me and gave me the camera instead. You know what he said to me? He said 'Just wait a little while longer, cupcake. Everything will be okay... ' When I woke up, I couldn't go through with it. I laid there on the floor for the rest of the night, crying my eyes out. He gave me a camera, Ant. He gave me a camera."

"He did," I said, wiping away a tear from my cheek. "He really did."

Then she grabbed me and hugged me with all her might, and cried out every last bit of hurt she'd been bottling up for the past five years, a whole third of her life.

"I love you, Sheila. You're my best friend. Don't you ever go anywhere."

"Everything's gonna be all right now," she replied. "I've changed the world. Now I've just gotta open up and talk to my mom."

I looked down at the beam of light spilling across her legs and saw the little cut on her knee.

"Wait here," I said.

I went to the washroom, came back a moment later, and knelt down in front of her. I cleaned the cut on her knee with a warm wash cloth and applied a Band-aid. Then I bent down and kissed it, and finally everything was right with the world.


-------

Chapter 45: Advice to a Young Man

It was weeks before life finally got back to normal for us, if anything could be considered normal. We literally could not go anywhere the first week. Every trip to the store had us mobbed by screaming girls. Sometimes men and women joined in too. Every time we walked into the cafeteria, the whole school erupted in cheers. Forget about going to movies or restaurants.

There were nut cases too, religious types and whackos who threw things at us, hurled insults, or tried to grab us and yell at us about our sins. Occasionally, guys tried to proposition or outright grab Charlotte, but she was never out in public alone, especially at night.

We were invited to do interviews on various talk shows and news programs. Everybody wanted to hear our story. We even got an offer to make a movie out of it. We turned that down too. We really didn't need the money, and we already had all the fame we could stomach. Another guy offered us a million dollars if he could write our story into a novel. Charlotte said no. If anyone was gonna write our story, it would be me, not some two-bit hack who would rape the soul right out of it going for all the juicy sensationalism.

Charlotte and I got literally dozens of offers a week for sex. Both of us got propositioned by both guys and girls, constantly. We politely turned them down—especially the strangers—but after a while it became harder to be patient and graceful. We soon got to the point of just turning and walking away whenever the issue came up. We were never rude to anyone, but man it got old pretty quick, even from the hottest hotties. Other people wanted to film us making out, even kissing and groping each other, and that was just way too creepy.

"There's already a movie all over the internet, if you wanna see that."

As Charlotte's pregnancy began to show more and more, the offers dwindled for her. But things got harder on me. You'd be surprised how many girls were trying to use Charlotte's pregnancy against her, as though it made her less desirable to me and gave them an opportunity to steal me away. People like that are just gross. Most of them were thrilled of course, and supported us a hundred percent, but there are always bad apples in the bunch. I mostly ignored them, but some of the more aggressive ones, I had to tell where to go and how fast they should try to get there.

We got letters. We got phone calls. We got photos sent to us. Most of them were from fans who were inspired by our movie. Some were creepy, with photos attached with way too much information. Some were of course threats from religious nutters, warnings of hell and damnation, you name it. Because we all know, if you wanna covert someone to your cause, the best way to go about it is to tell them God is just ready, willing, and eager to destroy them. Idiots.

Probably the strangest thing of all is that people wanted to know everything we were interested in—our favorite foods, our favorite movies, what style of clothes we liked, what kind of music we listened to. Within a few weeks, half the girls in the city had dyed their hair blonde and were wearing the same styles as Charlotte. The rest of them had the t-shirts people had made with lines from our movie printed on them. Others had t-shirts with our pictures on them, or screenshots from the movie. It sounds weird to say, but I almost got sick of seeing myself after a while. I mean, I was just me. Nothing was really different than when I'd been just an average nobody. It was just crazy.

Steve and Sheila got some attention too. It was eventually revealed (by certain students in our school) that they were the ones involved in the production with us. Steve's mom was of course mortified and nearly disowned him, but his dad got really busy trying to figure out how to make money off of his son's new-found stardom. Steve got interviewed a few times by the news around our city, but he didn't talk much. The best thing that happened to him was he got some job offers to be in television production.

Shelia was the real brains behind the operation though. That could not be hidden. She got all kinds of offers to be interviewed. People wanted to know her life story as well, and how she got involved with us. She turned them down and only did one television interview with a talk show host she actually had respect for and had always wanted to meet. The best thing that happened to her was the offer she got to attend a very prestigious art school in New York. She accepted of course, and Ron agreed to pay all her expenses on the condition that she direct at least one movie for Lawsen publications after she graduated.

Sheila also got a chance to go on an all-expense paid cruise with her mom, after telling the talk show host she hadn't had a chance to spend much alone time with Vanessa since her dad died. She took two weeks off school and they came back tanned and smiling from the Bahamas. The talk show's producer also arranged for a professional family therapist to accompany them, and they came back much closer than I'd ever seen them. They weren't perfect of course, but the improvement was obvious. I was happy for them.

Mom started seeing this guy Dave more and more. He was a doctor at one of the hospitals she worked at, a divorcee like her. I was happy for her. I was also happy that it made her not mind so much if I spent half my life at the Lawsens'. If she'd been all alone, I'd have felt really bad.

Amy was doing okay, up in Kelowna. She started calling more and more though, feeling upset about the fights she was getting in with her grandparents. We tried our best to smooth things over from afar, but there was only so much we could do. The house was just too small for the three of them. And a teenage girl was just too much to deal with for a couple of retired seniors ... and vice versa I suppose.

It was decided somewhere around that time, that Charlotte and I should leave for Canada to look after Amy. It was originally Stephanie's idea. We could live in Amy's mom's house, which had been sitting vacant the past few months, take care of her and practice being a family until the baby came. Amy had school to finish before she came to live with the Lawsen's permanently. She was staying with her grandparents now, but that couldn't last for the next few years. And since Charlotte and I had to move out on our own with our baby soon anyway, we all figured we might as well go there. Amy could help us with the baby and we could help her with school and such. (It was also seen as a way to help us to lay low for a while, get us away from the weirdos and religious nuts around the neighborhood. But that part was left implied, not spoken of directly. ) Charlotte was thrilled with the idea. She ran to the phone to call her sister and tell her the good news. The hardest part about the plan was breaking the news to my mom. She didn't like the idea of me leaving for a whole other country, but she eventually saw the wisdom in it. We decided to leave right after school was done.

Then we dove head first into our exams and passed with good grades in spite of all the chaos. And even though we weren't seniors, we were invited out to the prom as honored guests of the graduating class. This is where the story continues, because the day before the prom, Charlotte had nothing to wear.

Ron and Stephanie were like a second set of parents to me by then. I slept over there so much, ate so many dinners with them, watched so many great movies, and even went on a few family trips with them. They soon began joking about adopting me as a son, to which Charlotte added, "Son-in-law, soon enough."

When Charlotte came home begging her mom to take her shopping for the prom, Ron offered to take me along too. We jumped in the car and headed off to the local mall. Charlotte and Steph went one way. Me and Ron went another. It was one of the first moments I ever spent an extended period of time alone with him, and I'll remember it for the rest of my life.

"What do you feel like wearing tomorrow, Anthony?"

"I dunno. I've never done this before."

"Your dad never took you shopping for clothes?"

"Not since I was a kid. He left us quite a while ago."

"So Charlotte tells us. That must have been tough to get through."

"I dunno. I guess it was, at first. Then you just get used to it and it's like, you can't even remember what it used to be like when he was there."

We were strolling through the mall and I was trying to ignore the girls staring and pointing at me. Luckily it was a weekday morning, and most of them were in school. But there were a few who were done their exams already, just like Charlotte and I were.

"I moved out from my parents by the time I was fifteen," Ron said. "As soon as I got my first job, dad started insisting I pay my way around the house. Fifty dollars here, a hundred dollars there. One time he demanded my entire paycheck because they had a big repair bill on the house that he claimed was partly my fault. It wasn't of course, but I paid him anyway. But after that I started searching for my own apartment. I found this dinky little one bedroom place for two hundred a month. I was probably the only fifteen-year-old in town with his own apartment, but I felt like a king. I worked hard. I paid my bills. I kept the place clean. I even had my mom over for supper a couple times. My dad wouldn't come though. He called me an ungrateful bastard and rarely spoke to me again."

Ron led me into a formalwear store and waved the sales clerk away who swept down upon us like a vulture the moment we set foot on the carpet.

"I learned a lot of important lessons in those years," he said. He held a few jackets up against me, moving from rack to rack as he talked. "I learned the value of money. I learned the importance of hard work and dedication. I learned the hard way that people will try to rip you off every chance they get, especially when you're a kid."

A young lady walked up and asked me for my autograph. Nothing new. I smiled and signed her shirt with a black marker. Then she went away again. Ron didn't even look up from the clothes rack he was flipping through.

"I dropped out of school at some point. I wasn't learning much anyway, going to school half dead from working a late shift. Once school was done I was able to work fulltime and then the real money started coming in. And let me tell you I worked my ass off at those jobs. I worked at a movie theater and as a bellhop in a hotel. Neither were as much fun as they sound. I studied in the library at night because I knew I'd have to go back to school eventually if I wanted something more than minimum wage jobs. Plus I liked keeping my mind active after a long day of repetitive drudgery. I basically just checked out all the textbooks I'd had in school and read through them cover to cover. You learn a lot more from those things when you're doing it because you want to, and not just to get the bare minimum to pass a test. The history books were most fascinating to me. I think that's how I originally got the idea to get into movie making, day dreaming about turning those old historical characters into action heroes."

"That would be cool. Abraham Lincoln vs. John Wilkes Booth. Bang! Bang!"

"Write me a script, man. I'd totally do that."

"I will."

We were done in that first store. We walked out without buying anything.

"So did you eventually go back and finish school?"

"Nope. I tried to enroll the next September, but the principal basically laughed at me and told me to go back to whatever junk yard I'd crawled out of. I was stunned of course, and pretty intimidated, but as I looked around at the dead-eyed morons who would be my classmates, I realized I was way more advanced than any one of them. I had a life already. I had bills. I had keys to my own place in my pocket while they were all still sucking their mommies' teats. The kicker was, there was this teacher creating a poster on the hallway floor. I glanced at it as I walked by and told her Thomas Jefferson wasn't president until 1801. He was vice president in 1796. This old bitch's jaw just dropped and she made some excuse about him being president either way. I just shook my head, realizing once and for all that I didn't even need to be in school."

We headed into another store.

"Now, I'm not telling you not to take school seriously. Fuck no. I'd kill you if you dropped out now. It's a different world we live in these days. Even back then, dropping out cost me a lot. I was just too stubborn to realize it at the time. Most of all it cost me in social skills. Believe it or not, I was a very awkward kid. I had no idea how to talk to people. I just did my work and went home. I read my books and went to bed. And then I did it all over again, and that was pretty much my life for a whole year. And forget about girls. All I saw in girls was just a pretty face who wanted to spend your money. Mostly that was true, but at the time I thought they were all like that."

"And then you met Stephanie."

"Yup. I walked into a diner in my neighborhood and there she was. It wasn't love at first site or anything. I mean, she was amazingly beautiful, but I just saw her as eye candy for the first few weeks, until I got to know her better. I was a regular, not knowing how to cook much for myself. We spent a lot of time chit chatting as she cleaned up for closing time. Eventually I got to like her. She must have thought I was a complete dork, but she never said so. She always treated me with respect. At some point we agreed to see a movie together, just as friends, but somehow we wound up making out in the theater. Apparently she liked me a lot more than she'd let on. I guess she thought it was cool that I had my own place and all that. Anyway, it took off from there. Pretty soon we were seeing each other constantly. And within three weeks we'd gone all the way, which was quite a big deal back then."

"That was around 1985?" I asked, counting a back from Charlotte's birthday in 1986.

"Eighty-four, eighty-five. Somewhere around there. Anyway, we screwed like bunnies every day at my place, after she got out of school. Then she would head off to work and I'd go visit her some more over there. Eventually, I just asked her to be my girlfriend. She was actually my first girlfriend, my first lover, and later, my first love. I never told her about the virginity thing though, until we'd already been doing it for months. I was too embarrassed. I used to ask her all kinds of questions about sex, what her past lovers were like, what turned her on about them, what turned her off. We talked and talked and it never even occurred to me to be jealous of her other lovers. She was the goddess of everything sexy to me. I honestly thought I was lucky to be with her. It wasn't all smooth and perfect of course. We got in all kinds of fights. Some were ridiculous nonsense fights. Some were serious. We almost broke up a couple of times in fact."

"How'd you guys keep it together? I mean, when the going got tough."

"Well this is something I've been wanting to talk to you about, Anthony. You're going away soon, and you're gonna have a lot of responsibilities, a lot of worries. I wanted to chat with you about some stuff before you went, if that's okay. Things are gonna be hard for you and Charlotte too, as you may already know. But there's a few keys you two have to hold onto if you want it to last forever."

"Maybe I should write these down," I said, only half joking.

"Nope. They're pretty basic, common sense ideas. Most people fail in relationships, not because they don't know these basics, but because they're too caught up in themselves to apply them."

Now we were at a coffee shop, and he was ordering a coffee. He got me a bottle of juice too and we sat down at a table.

"Now, what was I talking about again?"

"Keys to staying together forever."

"Oh yeah. Okay. You ready for this?"

"Shoot."

"The most important thing in the world, if two people want to stay together forever is to stay in love."

"What do you mean? Isn't that obvious?"

"No. The key word here is in love. Couples who have been together a while will say they love each other, but that magical in-love feeling they had when they first fell for each other is gone. They get comfortable with each other, and start taking one another for granted. Once that happens, it's pretty much over already, except for maybe a stubborn commitment to the idea of the relationship. Never, ever, ever take the person you love for granted. I can not stress that enough. You need to wake up every single day and remind yourself that you're the luckiest bastard alive just be lying next to this beautiful, beautiful person."

"Even if it's not true?" I said, remembering my own parents. The fights they used to have were cruel and bitter at the worst of times.

"No!" he corrected me, grabbing my shoulders for emphasis. "It's always true. You're always lucky to be with a beautiful person. Most people just forget though. They forget because they allow themselves to get comfortable and take their lover for granted. They get selfish and self-centered and start worrying about me, me, me all the time. Then they break up, find some new nobody and start fussing and fawning over them like the sun, moon, and stars, and meanwhile, the person who put in all those years with them was getting nothing. And somehow it was their ex's fault. I'm telling you to wake up each morning like it was the morning after you first fell in love with this gorgeous creature. Do that for the rest of your life, and you will never, ever lose them."

"But things aren't always gonna be perfect. You're not always gonna feel nutty romantic over them. Are you supposed to lie?"

"Well, this brings me to the second basic principle of love. You have to be committed to the love one hundred percent, with all your heart and soul and mind. You have to face every problem you come across with the attitude that you two are on the same team. Every fight you get into should be a fight for each other, not against each other. I hear so many people tell me that they love their children literally to death, that they would forgive anything and love them no matter what, but they can't stand their partners. Meanwhile, they didn't even choose their children. Their children just sort of happened to them, and the partner they did choose somehow gets outside this circle of devotion and becomes expendable if the going gets tough. I don't understand that ... at all. I chose Stephanie. I love Charlotte with all my soul, and Amy too. But I chose Stephanie. Do you see what I'm saying? I will cherish that woman my entire life. Charlotte is my daughter, Amy is my daughter, but Stephanie is the other half of my soul. Every decision I make, I make with her happiness and security in mind. And that's not a burden or a chore. Because I'm so damn grateful that she chose me as well. Loving her like that defines me; it's an essential part of the core of who I am. Is this making sense to you?"

I was looking down at my juice, thinking as he spoke, so I guess maybe he thought I didn't get it. I did.

"Completely," I said. "But don't you even feel an inkling of jealousy, when you think about her being with other men? I mean, I try my hardest to let go of all that with Charlotte, but the feeling is still there-"

"Here's the third key: talk to each other. Talk through everything. Be her best friend. Listen to her, no matter how long she talks for. Women don't want solutions to their problems like guys do. A guy talks to his buddies and he says the problem is A, B, and C, and his buddy will tell him, well you gotta do X, Y, and Z. Problem solved. But for women, talking itself is the solution. Nothing makes her feel closer to you than just having you listen to what she has to say, and I mean, really listening, looking at her, hanging on her every word, putting her thoughts into your own words so that she knows you've heard her. Your biggest impulse is to say, what about me? What about what I wanna say? But just let that go. Wait for her to ask, and she will ask. Don't worry about that. Because her second biggest need, other than the need to be heard and understood, is the need to know you inside and out. It helps her to feel like she owns your heart. So just wait your turn, and she'll let you talk for hours.

"The other thing talking does for you is it solves all your problems. Every crisis you face, every dilemma, every hang-up and let-down you have in your life, she's there for you. She's in your corner. She's on your team. She's got your back. And the sex, Anthony! When you know a woman's soul inside and out to the point where you don't even have to speak ... wow! You would not believe the hours and hours and hours Steph and I spend talking. And then when it comes time for sex, well, I can't even explain it. Let's just say, I've never been too big on religion, but sex with your soul mate is a billion times better than anything else. When the church folks talk about how two become one, you'll know it when you make love to a woman who owns your soul, and knows everything there is to know about it. No other woman could possibly compete with that, and no other man will ever be able to get in the same galaxy as her heart when she's given it over to you completely. So jealousy? No. There's no such thing. Fear of rejection? Wounded pride? Steph would literally die before she said anything bad about me. And I have complete and total respect for her and everything she's about. When I make movies with her, I consider it a high honor. Not some kind of betrayal or dilution of our love as some put it. She simply is beautiful to me in everything she does, and if I can capture that beauty and show it to the world, I win. The money is just a bonus."

"But because of the money you guys have, you don't have a lot of the problems and fights most other couples have. You don't have the same stress and worries."

"That may be true, my boy. But we weren't always rich. We didn't get rich the week after we met. It took years to build up to where we are now. And in those years we fought, we bickered, we hurt each other, over and over and over. She was a pain in the ass and she drove me nuts, and I'm sure she felt the same way about me. But we were always committed to our love. We were always committed to the person we knew the other could become. We were always on the same team. We talked everything through, every single time. And then we fucked like animals to burn all the stress away. And then we talked some more."

Now I was reminded of me and Charlotte, the fights we'd had, and the make-up sex after. It was always amazing.

"And you were always in love, not just saying you loved her. You always felt in love?"

"Well, that revelation came later. I realized I was head over heels in love with her as I watched her changing Charlotte's diaper one day. I can't even explain it. She just looked so astonishingly beautiful, caring for our daughter, singing to her, cuddling her. I just suddenly fell madly in love with her all over again and made a vow to myself that I would always hold on to that feeling until the day I die. Just like you said in your video, I'm gonna die someday knowing that I loved one person my whole life, and she loved me with all her soul."

"Wow. That's amazing."

"Now the only other thing I wanted to talk to you about is money. Like you said, if life is stressful and weighing you down, and you're always broke, and always miserable, you're not gonna feel too romantic. You're not gonna feel like talking until dawn when you have to work in the morning. So you're gonna have to become successful with money as well as with love."

"And how do I do that?"

"Working hard isn't enough. You can work your ass off for fifty years or more and never get off the treadmill of living from paycheck to paycheck. So give up that idea right now. Nobody ever became successful by making someone else rich. What you're gonna have to do is create something that'll make money for you even while you sleep. I'm guessing, you're gonna lean towards writing, and that'll do it, when you get up the ladder high enough. You've already got a head start too, so that's good. Hell, after that movie you guys made, you could write a dirty limerick on a bathroom wall and it would become an overnight best-seller. The point is, you gotta create something that makes money for you, a system that works for you, so you don't have to work, so you can focus on your real treasures. Maybe it won't be writing. Maybe it'll be something totally different, but whatever it is, it has to be valuable to someone other than yourself. Some people build businesses. Some people invent new products. Some create art. Some people get rich off of ideas. As long as it's valuable to the most amount of people possible, you'll get rich. Whatever it is for you, do it with all your heart. Dream big and fight for your dream with unwavering courage until the day you die."

"That seems simple enough. How come everyone's not rich?"

"Because they don't believe in their dreams, I guess, or because their dreams are only valuable to themselves. I happened to land the most beautiful woman on earth and she took care of both those obstacles for me. She absolutely refused to let be anything less than the god she saw me as in her heart, and I guess her dream came true..."

He smiled to himself as though recalling some secret memory. I sipped at my juice, waiting for him to continue. He turned over his napkin and began sketching a tree on it, with a pen he pulled from his pocket.

"Investments are important too," he continued. "I mean, there's successful, and then there's wealthy. If you want to be wealthy, you have to invest wisely. Put your money to work for you. Let it grow and leave it alone. Don't obsess over it. In the end, money is just a tool. The real purpose of wealth is freedom. Always keep your promises to business partners. Always pay your bills. Always repay debts, if you acquire any, but remember that money is just a tool. Do not let it run your life. Let it go and watch it grow. The freer you are with investing it, the more it comes back to you. You reap what you sow and all that jazz. Don't screw anyone over or your success is meaningless."

"My mom has some sort of college fund set aside for me. She started it when I was kid. I'm not sure how much it's up to now."

"Smart lady. You'd be surprised how few parents do that. Most of them are on the treadmill all their lives and never think beyond the end of the month. But you're not gonna get caught up in that, right?"

"No way!"

"Good. The only other thing to say is to avoid all the bad shit: drugs, booze, strange women, over-eating, gambling—all that shit can mess you up good. You would not believe how often Steph and I get offered drugs. We've had people literally drop ten-thousand dollar bags of cocaine into our laps. I guess their idea was to get us hooked good and have a steady supply of income off of us that would eventually add up to millions. Not a chance. You see, with drugs, well they basically replace your natural ability to feel pleasure with an artificial high. Eventually you don't feel anything anymore except shitty when you don't have the drugs. It eats away at a person's soul and leaves them a puppet on a string for the dealer. I mean, imagine if someone told you you could have an all-out orgy with the hottest women on earth for one month, but at the end of the month you have to get your cock chopped off and never have sex again. Would you go for it?"

"No way!"

"Well that's how it is with drugs. Once your dopamine receptors are fried, nothing feels good anymore. You're just sort of alive but not really, and you're always trying to get back to that original high, but never feeling anything that's naturally good and wholesome and pure. Your cock is gone, so to speak. Basically, you've had the orgy with the sexy bitches, but they cut your soul out at the end of it, and now you'll never feel good again. Even if you quit before it kills you, the damage is done. You're a blunted knife for the rest of your days. It's just a bad deal all around."

"Well so far I don't even smoke, so I'm doing alright I guess."

"I know. But the day will come when some asshole throws a bag of coke in your lap and tells you to party it up, and maybe you're feeling big and successful, like what the hell could go wrong? I'm on top of the world! I just wanna give you something to think about before that happens. It's not worth your soul. It's not worth your ability to feel love, and joy and hope for the future. It's not worth being who you truly are and not some scum bag drug dealer's gravy train. It's not worth having Charlotte and the baby knocked off the throne of your heart for a petty little buzz."

"I'll definitely remember that."

"Good, cause that's about all the advice I have, young man."

I made a mental list of everything he'd said to me, about love and money, and holding on to my soul. He drifted off into his own thoughts for a few minutes. And then I spoke again.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"How come you and Steph never tried for a son?"

"We did. We did for years after Charlotte was born. It just never happened. Eventually we got tired of the disappointed hopes every month. It could still happen I guess. But we'd have to take a hiatus from her work. She's on the pill to make sure she doesn't get pregnant from any of the stars, but she could go off of it and we could maybe try again someday. Maybe I'll talk to her about it again. It sounds like a good idea. Why do you ask anyway?"

"Well, I was just thinking about how I never really had a talk like this with my dad. And then I was thinking that you never really had your own son to talk about this stuff with either. So I just thought I'd ask how come."

He looked at me for a long time, realizing what I was really saying, without saying it. Then he just smiled.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

His smile was infectious. I smiled back.

"Yeah. Thanks, Ron."

Then we got up and went back to our hunt for the perfect suit. Except now I was feeling about a thousand pounds lighter. There was this old wound in my soul that seemed to be soothed a bit. I wasn't sure exactly what it was, but it had something to do with not feeling important enough for a father to love. That old wound disappeared altogether when Ron straightened my tie and told me I was awesome.



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Epilogue: Sunset


"You got everything, Char?" Stephanie asked.

Char, who was near tears, simply nodded. The suitcases were loaded into the trunk of the Mustang, everything she owned and everything I owned. Ron shut the trunk and walked over to us. He handed me a credit card, a cell phone, and a wad of bills. He patted me on the shoulder and smiled at me. Then he stood with his hands in his pockets, smiling. Charlotte stepped up and hugged him.

"Don't you cry now, my girl. We'll be up to see you guys every other weekend."

"I know," she replied. "But it's still goodbye."

"The most important thing you gotta worry about is taking care of Amy until she's finished school, and the baby when it comes along, and each other. We've got everything set up out there for you. Your bills are paid for the next four years and we've even furnished the nursery."

"You said goodbye to everyone from school, all your friends?" Stephanie asked.

"We said goodbye at prom last night. It was beautiful."

"I'm glad. I hope you got a lot of nice pics."

Ron nodded towards the street where a van was parked under a shady tree.

"Now, you may notice a blue van following you. I don't want you to be alarmed. That's just a couple of friends of mine who I've hired to watch out for you three. John, from Tucson, Arizona, and another guy named Mel. He's a bit older, but don't let his appearance fool you. He's not gonna let anyone harm a single hair on your heads. They're both trained professionals. Cost me an arm and a leg, but they say they would have done it for free, just because it's my little girl. They've been fans of us since we started. They'll be a few car lengths behind you the whole way. If you see them in a restaurant or whatever, don't talk to them. As far as anyone knows you have no idea who they are, alright? But if anyone bothers you, they'll be there in a heartbeat. I trust them completely."

"Thank you, Daddy."

Charlotte was crying. I don't think she heard a word he said. I got most of it though.

"Take care of yourself, Anthony," my mom said. "Phone me all the time, okay?"

"I will mom. I love you."

"I love you too."

"You two take care of each other, every single day, no matter what."

"I'll keep him in line, Mrs. Mitchell," Charlotte said. "Don't you worry. He won't have the energy to get in any trouble if I have my way."

Steph just smiled at me, and patted me on the shoulder. I gave her a nod. She'd given me an extra special squeeze and a little goodbye chat before we'd come outside with the suitcases. She couldn't show any extra affection in front of my mom.

"You darling, darling boy," she'd said in the kitchen. "I'll miss you so terribly. I hope you realize that."

"I do. And I hope you realize how deeply I care for you. You're the goddess that created my angel."

We hugged, and she continued without letting go.

"Don't forget the advice I gave you last night. It's so very important, especially in the hard times."

"Make love to a woman like a woman would make love to a woman. Touch her. Hold her. Caress her. Her whole body is a sex organ when she's aroused."

"Good boy. You got it. Now that doesn't mean you guys don't fuck each other good and hard as often as you can, but it can't be like that all the time. Men seem to only feel horny in their dicks, but women feel it all over, from their head to their toes. Always remember that. Touch her everywhere, like her whole body's one big clit. Do that, and you'll be the king of her heart, and the master of her flesh forever."

"Gotcha."

"Shit, who'm I kidding? You don't need my advice anyway. You're the one who made the crazy girl fall for you in the first place."

"I'm still gonna remember it though. Thanks, Steph. It means a lot to me. I've got so much to learn."

"You'll do fine. You're awesome!

She hugged me hard once more and that was our goodbye.

Mick and Janine were standing on the lawn as well. Mick had his jacket slung over his shoulder and his arm around Janine. Janine was weeping freely. Mick looked like he was ready to, but he fought it back.

"You gonna punch me in the arm again, Preston?" I asked.

He shook his head and grabbed me in a full hug.

"I'll miss you, man. Don't be a stranger."

"Somethin' in your eye?"

"Of course."

"Love you, man. You're gonna be there at our wedding next summer."

"I'll be there."

The only person who wasn't with us in the Lawsens' driveway was Sheila. She was in New York City, at the Tisch School or the Arts at NYU. She'd gotten on a plane the week before. That had been a tearful farewell also.

"Don't forget about me when you're a big star," I told her.

"Not even a baseball bat to the head could knock you out of there, Ant."

We looked at each other for a long time. We released a couple of shaky sighs.

"I'm gonna miss you, Chicken Legs."

She was hugging me now, and crying freely.

"I want constant emails. I wanna know every little detail of your entire life. It's the only thing that'll keep me sane out there."

"I hear it's pretty hectic in that course."

"Well, I survived Charlotte's Movie. I'm sure I can survive this."

"You can survive anything, my dear. Don't ever doubt it."

"If I ever do, I'll just take a look at this..." and she showed me the little Band-Aid. It was glued to the top of the picture frame with the 8x10 of me in it.

"Ew! You saved it? Gross!"

"You put a Band-Aid on my soul that day, boy. This is just an outward reminder."

Then her flight was announced, now boarding.

"Well, this is it," I said. "I just know you're gonna amaze the world. I just know I'll be proud just to know you. I just know you're gonna live happily ever after-"

"Kay! Stop! You're making this harder. I'm just gonna walk away and not look back. I love you, Ant. Take care of yourself."

"You too."

She kissed me on the cheek. She turned and walked away. And then she disappeared into the crowd boarding the flight. She was off to pursue her lifelong dream.

And so were Charlotte and I. Only our dream was much smaller and more personal—to make each other happy, take care of Amy, and bring a healthy, happy baby into the world. I took one last look around at everyone and then led Charlotte to the car by the hand. I got in, but Charlotte ran back one last time to give her mom and dad another hug. I started it up and finally she jumped in. We drove out of the driveway and waved one last time. The last we saw of them, they were all standing in the late afternoon sunshine, waving goodbye.

Charlotte took my hand and headed for the highway, westward toward Salt Lake City, where we had a hotel waiting for us. From there it was northwest to Seattle and then up to Kelowna. Charlotte let out a squeal of delight. We drove off into the sunset together, with the top down and her beautiful golden hair flying free in the wind. She looked like an angel.

Thank you, God, for giving me my Charlotte.


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The End
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Posted:  2009-03-03
Last Modified: 2009-10-06 / 08:26:25 am
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