Is It True? II
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2015 by Carlos LaRosa

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 7 - Dave tries to capitalize on some word of mouth advertising. Lisa continues blowing hot and cold, but other possibilities become more apparent.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Size  

I was heading back home for Winter break. In the month since Cynthia and I had first had sex, we'd managed to get together three additional times. The sex was great, but there wasn't much chance that a romantic attachment would ever take place. All indications from Cynthia had been that I was just a friend. That suited my needs as well.

I had only been back home for two or three hours before I got my first phone call. It was Barbara Allen, who said she was just checking to make sure I'd arrived home safely. Almost with her next breath, she was asking if we could get together while I was home. I told her I had met another girl back at school. She seemed to accept that without asking for any details about this new relationship.

Paula Driscoll was next to call me, about an hour after I got off the phone with Barbara. It took the two of us almost an hour to get caught up with all the changes since I'd gone off to Vermont. Lana had a serious boyfriend, but Paula hadn't found anyone that excited her as of yet. Neither of us had brought Lisa's name into our conversation. We finally just wished each other well and exchanged Christmas greetings before ending the phone call.

I almost phoned over to Lisa's house a dozen times before I flew back to Vermont, but I always decided not to, before I'd actually tried to place the call. I figured the way we'd left things back in August didn't need any rehashing. If she wasn't with me, I didn't want to know about who she might be with.

I'd only been back to school for a few days before I received a blistering email from Lisa. She was really pissed that I hadn't even tried to contact her while I'd been home. At the end of the email, the longest I'd ever received, up until that point, she told me that I was never to try to contact her again, and that she never wanted me to speak to her, or to try to communicate with her in any other way. Naturally, honoring her stated preference, I didn't reply to her email.

Six weeks later, I received yet another email from her, even longer than the first, recounting every disappointment I'd given her, every act I'd done to cause her either emotional pain or humiliation. She wrote of all the chances she'd given me, all the times she'd forgiven the unforgivable at my hands. After all that, she closed her email with this:

"Ever since we were both children, I have loved you. I kept hoping, impossible as it might have seemed, that you would one day grow up. I knew, if you ever matured, you would be the perfect man for me. I've waited for you to do that, but now I've run out of patience. I give up.

Happy Valentine's Day,

Lisa."

I emailed her back:

"I love you too.

Happy Valentine's Day.

Dave."

Early in March, after my not even attempting to have sex with her, since before I left for home on Winter break, Cynthia let me know that she had met someone else on campus that she wanted to date.

I let her know that this wouldn't be a problem for me, since we had always just been friends. She tried to use this situation as an excuse for us having one final tryst up in my dorm room. I declined, admitting to her that the situation with Lisa had affected me more than I'd expected. Emotionally, I really had no reaction to her news. I tried to act like I was happy for her, but I'd already known the relationship with her wasn't working out for me.

Ginny made some pretty direct overtures to me, after learning from Cynthia that we were no longer on intimate terms. I told her that I had decided to once again resume my celibate lifestyle.

Kathryn was busy counting the days before her Rob got home. I'm not even sure she knew that anything had changed between Cynthia and me.

In April, I decided to change schools, opting out of my International Studies major altogether. After talking with both my parents, we decided it might be better if I transferred back home to the State University after all.

I wasn't exactly homesick, but I'd grown increasingly dissatisfied with how disconnected I'd come to feel from any meaningful social interaction during my day to day living. Somewhere along the way, I'd stopped caring about the direction my life was taking.

I felt that I was mostly cast adrift, moving along without anyone being in control. I knew I wasn't in control. I woke up every morning, tired and listless. I didn't feel any sense of purpose, like I was just going through the motions, because nothing really mattered anymore.

I wasn't even getting horny anymore. I hadn't even bothered to masturbate since before I went home for Winter Break. I didn't feel despondent or suicidal, nothing like that. I wasn't happy, and I didn't really care that much about my lack of happiness. I didn't care, period.

I sent Lisa an email, letting her know that I'd decided that Vermont wasn't for me. I told her that I'd probably be coming home, just as soon as school let out at the end of May. I didn't mention my plan to enroll at State, and didn't write about anything personal changing between us. She emailed me the following morning:

"YOU BETTER FUCKING CALL ME! AS SOON AS YOU GET HOME."

I smiled as I read her message. For the first time in months, I started having some real hope that things would improve for me.

In spite of any personal problems I was having, my grades had been kept up. My parents had spent a pretty penny sending me to Middlebury. I didn't want my getting poor grades to add to the disappointment they already had from me deciding that I didn't want to continue attending their alma mater. I managed a pretty respectable 3.73 grade point average for my one year at Middlebury College.

My father drove out to get me when the school year finished. We again rented a UHaul trailer to bring back all my clothes and belongings. I tried apologizing to my father about my not liking Middlebury College, but he assured me that he and my mother weren't upset with either my decision, or the way I'd tended to all my classes after the decision had been made.

"You made the best of things while you were there, Dave. A lot of people would have just dropped out of school if they were unhappy. You stuck it out, saw it through to the end. We're both very proud of you for being so mature. You also aren't planning to just drop out of school. Where you go has never been as important to us as the fact that you are actually going to college."

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. I felt better though, after he told me that. In my mind, I'd built it up as a huge disappointment for my parents. It was nice to know that they didn't see me as the abject failure I'd been thinking I was.

I did call Lisa the first thing in the morning after we got back home. We'd driven the last day for fourteen hours straight, getting in after midnight.

"Hello Lisa, this is Dave."

"You just got home right now?"

"We got in after midnight. I didn't want to wake you up, just to tell you I was here."

"Are you coming over to see me today?"

"I can, if you want me to?"

"Of course I want you to! You're the one who didn't want to come see me, remember?"

I didn't want to get into one of the blame game arguments we seemed to almost always get into. I knew we needed to talk, to try to get some things settled. I had allowed myself to get hopeful, but not to the point where I was wildly optimistic about Lisa and me, or about our future together.

"How about if I come over after ten o'clock?" It was a little after eight at this time.

"Why not now?"

"I haven't unloaded the trailer with all my stuff from school, and I haven't even said hello to my mom yet."

"Right after ten then?"

"I should be able to make it then. If not, I'll call you and let you know, okay?"

"Do you still love me, Dave?"

"Nothing has changed on my end, Lisa. Why don't we wait until I get there? We can talk as much as you want then."

We ended up not really talking that much that first day. The sex was superb, but Lisa did manage to get in a few digs over things that had happened in the past. I tried to just let her remarks go by, without them getting me all upset. It was still difficult being around her. There were still levels of anger that neither of us had dealt with yet.

By the time I left, right before her parents were due back home, I was less optimistic than I'd been before our getting together. I didn't want to fight with her, but I knew I couldn't just roll over and let her version of how things were in the past stand.

She never admitted that she'd contributed to our having problems. As far as she was concerned, I was the only reason why things had never worked out for us as a couple. She wanted me to be this idealized version of a boyfriend. I couldn't see that ever happening. I also couldn't see things working out for us as long as she didn't accept responsibility for her own failures and shortcomings.

I didn't call Lisa the next day. even though she'd told me that this was what she expected. I'm surprised she hadn't told me it was what she demanded, because that was what she made it sound like when she ordered me to call her.

She called me later that afternoon.

"You never called me like you promised."

"Hi Lisa, thanks for calling."

"Don't start your 'Hi Lisa' crap with me. Why didn't you call me this morning?" She sounded upset.

"I can tell you are having a rough day already, and I don't want to make it worse for you. Why don't we wait until you get over whatever you're mad at, before we end up making things worse?"

"You promised to call me."

"No, you more or less ordered me to call you. I always have problems with people doing that to me."

"You can't keep doing these kind of things to me, Dave. When you love someone, you don't deliberately set out to piss them off. You do these things all the time. It drives me crazy."

I didn't respond to her. I knew it wouldn't matter what I said to her. It was like we were both fifteen years old still. She loved the sex we had together, but hated everything else about me. I couldn't be who she wanted me to be. I had absolutely no interest, or inclination, to even try to be that person.

"Did you want to say anything positive to me today?"

It only took her another second to disconnect from me. Our reunion had lasted for less time than I'd hoped it might. I wasn't that surprised though. We'd always been this way whenever we managed to get together. We both wanted different things from each other, and neither of us was capable of giving the other what they wanted. Still, the sex had been incredible.

 
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