Chapter 4

True to her word, Heather called me at home the evening after my choir concert and the two of us made plans to attend her rock concert together. It was a band I'd not heard of, but according to Heather they were a local group and had made it pretty big.

"I can't believe you haven't heard of them," she said in amazement.

"What kind of band are they again?" I asked.

"I told you. Hardcore punk with some rap thrown in."

"And there are enough people in Omaha to fill the Civic Center just to see them play?" I questioned.

"They're really popular right now and besides, I said they're local. Dan, you're not thinking of backing out on me, are you?" Heather accused.

"No. A promise is a promise," I said, throwing my arms in the air in surrender.

"Good."

"Besides, you promised me a good time."

"And I always deliver," she laughed. We chatted for a few minutes but Heather was almost late for work and had to hurry off.

The next week went by in a rush and before I knew it the day of the concert had arrived. Heather picked me up at my apartment and we drove the few miles into downtown Omaha, managing to find a parking place in a small lot up the hill from the Civic Center.

"This is great!" Heather exclaimed as we hurried down the street to the venue. "Parking is always insane for concerts here," she said, once again proclaiming our good fortune.

"What kind of a crowd are they expecting?" I wondered out loud as we passed a policeman on horseback sitting on the edge of the curb.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Heather answered. "He's just there to keep us off the streets during rush hour."

The two of us showed our tickets and had our hands stamped and before I knew it we were inside the arena. I was surprised to find out that the venue had no seats on the main floor.

"Isn't that cool?" laughed Heather. "We can get as close as we want!"

"Should I have brought earplugs with me?" I teased, remembering that Heather had asked me the same question about my concert.

"Nope," she said, reaching into her purse. "I brought two pairs with me tonight."

"Why?" I asked, looking at her in confusion.

"Because they're loud, silly!" she laughed, handing me the pair of soft foam earplugs. "And because we're going to be right up front."

"Are you sure about this?" I asked as I allowed myself to be pulled toward the front of the auditorium, pushing past clumps of teens, seemingly all of them dressed completely in black. I had never in my life seen as much body piercing and I made a mental note to ask Heather if she had any extra bits of metal pounded through her skin.

"Of course I'm sure," Heather answered. She finally settled on a spot fifteen or twenty feet from the stage and promptly sat on the ground.

"Marking our territory?" I asked.

"No, just resting," Heather answered. "Once the show starts we'll be a lot closer, but staying back for right now keeps us from getting trampled."

"Trampled?" I asked, wondering if I should be watching my back instead of paying attention to the stage.

"It's happened before," Heather shrugged.

"To you?"

"Yeah," she answered. "But it was no big deal."

"No big deal? You got trampled! You have any scars?"

"Just one, but I can't show it to you here."

"Why not?" I asked, before I realized the answer. Heather just grinned.

"Daniel! It's private," she whispered loudly, smiling at my discomfort. "But if you ask nicely I'll show it to you later."

"Really?" I asked, my mind running wild at the possibilities. To my horror I felt my cock swelling to attention as I imagined Heather undressing to show me her scar. Why she would need to be completely naked was beyond me, but it was a fantasy so I let the inconsistency slide. Unfortunately the erection in my jeans was anything but a fantasy and as Heather pulled me to my feet I saw her eyes flick over the bulge.

Fortunately there was little time for Heather to say anything as we found ourselves pressed forward in the crush of the crowd.

"Hold on!" she shouted over her shoulder as the band took the stage to the thunderous roar of the crowd. I grabbed at her offered hand, finally managing to catch hold of two fingers. I pulled myself close behind Heather who was already jumping up and down to the rhythmic drumming of the first song.

Heather grinned over her shoulder at me, catching my wrists and placing my hands on her hips. Heather was wearing a low-slung pair of jeans and a thin white shirt that threatened to give way with each wobble of her tits. Heather seemed not to notice, although as I gripped at her smooth flesh, pulling her body tight against mine she must have felt the result of the distraction.

I'm sure my face was crimson with embarrassment but Heather allayed any fears I might have had as she ground her ass against my erection. I felt my pole slip between her firm butt cheeks as our bodies molded to one another. For the next ninety minutes the two of us may as well have been one body, we were that close.

At one point the stage went dark and I realized the band had left for the obligatory encore break. Heather took the opportunity to grab my hands, which had not strayed from her midsection. She pulled me upward and I gasped as I suddenly found myself with a handful of soft tit. Even through the shirt I could feel Heather was wearing no bra and the hard pebbles of her nipples pressed hotly into my palms.

I leaned forward and - even over the chanting of the crowd - I could hear Heather sigh lightly as I fondled her breasts. Once she was sure my hands were not straying from their current positions she released my wrists. One of her hands reached between our bodies to stroke the shaft of my cock through my jeans.

As she was doing this, the lights went on and the band came back onstage for one or two more songs. I tried to pull away, noticing the stares of some other concertgoers but Heather would have none of it. Her free hand moved quickly to my hands, pressing me more firmly against her breasts and held me there during the encore.

"So what did you think Daniel?" Heather asked innocently as we walked back to her car. She grinned at me knowingly, leering at the front of my jeans, thankfully now showing no signs of my previous arousal. It had taken a full ten minutes alone in a bathroom stall for me to will my erection to go soft, but I was now able to walk around in public without drawing undue attention.

"About what?" I asked distractedly. Heather laughed and reached back to pinch one of my butt cheeks.

"The band silly. I know what you think of the rest of it." She grinned as I blushed although in the dark I'm sure she couldn't see my features turn crimson.

"Oh... they were fine, I guess."

"That's it? Fine? This was one of the best concerts I've ever been to!" Heather exclaimed.

"Me too," I laughed.

"What? I thought you didn't really care for the band."

"Honestly? I didn't." They were okay, but the rest of the concert..." I grinned, taking Heather's hand and holding tight. "The rest of the concert was superb."

We walked back to the car in silence. After the short drive back to campus I invited Heather into my place for a drink, but she begged off, saying she had to study for finals. We made tentative plans to get together before the holidays and with one last kiss goodnight the evening was over.

"So, what's up?" Heather asked a couple days later.

"Not much," I sighed. "All of this end of semester stuff is getting to me though! I always thought it was horrible having tons of finals so close to Christmas, but it's ten times as bad now that I have to grade everyone's term papers. And all of my work is in addition to getting my own projects completed." I groaned as I realized I still had piles of work to do and not too many more hours of office time to get it finished. "It sucks."

"Oh, you poor baby," Heather cooed. "How can I make it all better?"

"You could cook for me," I suggested hopefully.

"That's right!" Heather exclaimed. "I'd almost forgotten that I owe you a meal! What do you want?"

"Whatever's fine," I answered. "I'm easy."

"Guys!" Heather laughed. "You should all just make up your minds for once... all of you!"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You're always so wishy-washy about everything!"

"We are not."

"Are too! Nothing is every all that important to you. It doesn't really matter to you what we do, or what we eat."

"That's not true," I said, trying to sound hurt. "I care."

"Oh, do you?" she asked skeptically.

"Of course I do!"

"Then why don't you make a decision for once?"

"Wait a minute... are you talking about guys in general, or me in particular?"

"All of you!"

"Sheesh... what's up with you? What brought this on?"

"I offered to cook you a meal, and you act like you don't really care!"

"I do care... I just... I don't know what kind of stuff you have at home, and I don't want you to go to a lot of trouble just for me."

"It's no trouble," Heather stressed. "I want to do something nice for you. After all... you put up with my concert, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah... but you put up with mine too," I laughed. "So we're even. Fair enough?"

"Whatever," Heather answered softly, and I wondered if something else was going on besides my apparent inability to make a decision.

"Heather?"

"What?"

"What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... I'm sorry, but you're kind of overreacting here. Is everything okay?"

"Yes," she answered after a moment's hesitation.

"Liar," I said quietly. "Everything is obviously not okay. What's going on?" I asked again.

"It's... I don't really know. Life is just really complicated all of a sudden. I think I need a new job for one thing. Selling flowers just doesn't cut it, and I'm barely paying my bills on time, and I'm even late on this month's rent. Then my classes are all hectic and I'm trying to juggle all of that with you..." she trailed off.

"I'm sorry," I finally managed. "I definitely don't mean to be a burden."

"Oh, God... I didn't mean it like that! You're the only good thing happening right now."

"Good to hear," I said, laughing a bit. "For a minute I was worried."

"Don't be," Heather sighed. "I'm sorry... I just... it's all too much. Sometimes I just want to be pampered."

"Shit, and here I am, making you figure everything out. You don't have to cook for me, you know."

"No, it's not that. I really want to... you just... I think you caught me at a bad moment is all."

"Are you sure?"

"I suppose... yes, I'm definitely sure," Heather replied.

"Good," I answered. "Because I didn't go grocery shopping last night because I knew you were cooking. And don't worry about it, okay? I'm sure whatever you make will be fine. I'm really looking forward to dessert at the very least. You promised me it would be good, and I don't even know what it will be!"

Suddenly Heather's voice became sultry over the phone - apparently her concern over life's hassles had evaporated - and even without seeing her I imagined her eyes getting heavy with passion as her voice deepened.

"That's right, I did say something about that, didn't I?" she said throatily.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked.

"What do you want?" she countered.

"What do you mean?"

"For food, silly! You do have to make a decision. I wasn't kidding about that!"

"Fine... how about lasagna?" I asked. "Too much?"

"Finally!" Heather laughed. "I knew it was that simple... just get a guy thinking there's sex involved and suddenly the decisions come that much quicker. I knew it!"

"You're so mean," I said, shaking my head. "Don't you realize that you have it all wrong?"

"What are you talking about? You know I'm right!"

"Not at all... you want to know why guys are so easy-going and noncommittal around you?"

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"Sex."

"Sex? What are you talking about?"

"Guys... at least in my experience... are so desperate to get into a girl's pants that they'll agree with anything, in order not to piss off the girl."

"I should be offended at that, right?" Heather asked in a wounded voice, although I could hear the grin behind the words.

"Why?"

"You just admitted that you're trying to get into my pants!" Heather laughed.

"Well, it seemed like the next logical step," I said, laughing along with her.

"Oh really?"

"Sure. I was practically inside your shirt at the concert. It seemed like the pants should be the next thing."

"You're so bad," Heather laughed. "But I suppose you're right."

"I am?" I gulped.

"I did promise that you could see my scar."

"What scar?" I asked.

"The one you couldn't see at the concert."

"Ah, that's right!"

"So you see, you have a couple things to look forward to. Getting into my pants - but only to see the scar - and dessert."

"Sounds good," I said. "When should I come over?"

"How about tomorrow night?" Heather said. "I don't work... are you busy?"

"Well, yeah actually, but for lasagna and dessert and a free peep show I can stay up extra late to cram."

"So bad!" Heather laughed again. "It's a date then. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure."

We chatted for a few more minutes before I begged off, pleading an excessive amount of work to get done before the next evening. After a few hours of intensive work - on both my own projects and grading assignments for the music department - I went to bed, my head filled with thoughts of the next evening.

I woke the next morning, bleary eyed and not at all refreshed from my sleep. My dreams had been haunted by horrible visions of Heather. In my dreams the two of us were standing in her living room, surrounded by roses and lasagna, loud punk music blaring from her stereo. Heather began unbuttoning her blouse in order to show me her scar and in my dream I grew more and more excited.

My anticipation quickly turned to revulsion however, as her entire upper body appeared to be covered with pasty white scar tissue.

"It's okay," she said in my dream. "It doesn't hurt. You can touch it if you want."

Unfortunately, in my dream I was not as gallant - or as tactful - as I like to think I would be in real life, and I recoiled in horror.

"Don't you like it?" Heather asked as she advanced on my retreating form.

"It's fine," I said lamely. To my dismay, in my dream I bolted from her apartment, Heather's cry of disappointment still ringing in my ears as I woke with a start. I found myself tangled in my sheets, my body covered with sweat.

"Get a grip," I said to myself as I showered. "It can't be that bad, and besides, Heather seems fine with it."

I was still preoccupied with my dream - or rather my nightmare - as I walked into the music department. It had been a disappointment to both Dr. Bergerud and myself that Estelle had decided to take off the rest of the semester after her nasty fall, and I was not looking forward to another early morning confrontation with Ms. Parker. I braced myself for the harsh voice of the replacement secretary, but to my surprise there was a new face at the secretary's desk.

"Hi Daniel," a chipper voice called to me, and I had to look twice before I realized that I recognized the new office worker.

"Katie?" I asked incredulously, "Is that you?"

"I look a little different, don't I?" asked Professor B's daughter.

"You sure do!" I exclaimed. "You look so... so..."

"Professional?" she smiled.

"Yeah... what happened?" Katie Bergerud had been in the music office a few times during the first semester, but until recently I had not been aware that she was Professor Bergerud's daughter. She had usually been through to get help with assignments, although I hadn't had that much direct contact with her, although I had seen her enough to see she generally dressed like any of the college freshmen.

"My dad said if I wanted to earn a few dollars he had an opening for me for a week or so," she said. "But I had to get almost an entirely new wardrobe!"

"You look good," I said truthfully, admiring the sharp lines of her business suit. Katie was a beautiful girl, although the Professor always joked she got her looks completely from her mother. I had never seen Mrs. Bergerud, but if her husband was telling the truth - and I had no reason to believe otherwise - the Professor had one fine looking family.

"Thanks," Katie said, just as the phone rang. She motioned for me to stay where I was for a moment while she answered the call. "Music Office," she said crisply. "This is Katie speaking."

I stood as she dealt with the caller, transferring whoever it was to her father's phone. When she hung up she looked at me intently for a moment.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said. "My dad's told me a lot about you but we've never really chatted that much."

"Oh. Um... I guess not. How's college going?" I asked.

"Great!" she laughed, her cheeks dimpling slightly. "I just love my classes, although my dad's kind of a harsh grader."

"I should probably take part of the blame for that," I said guility. "I grade a lot of the assignment. Although, if you don't mind me asking, how did you end up in his section anyway?" I asked. "Isn't it kind of strange to have him as a teacher?"

"Not really. I mean, it was strange at first, but now I think it's great! How many other students have access to their teachers 24/7 like I do?"

"Is that a good thing?"

"Sure! Well, I guess not always, especially when I'm not doing so great. He can be pretty tough, but still... I love him!"

"That's cool," I said absentmindedly as I walked back to my office, again curious at how close the two seemed. Most people around my age - myself included - wanted nothing more than to get out of the house and put as much distance between themselves and their parents as possible, but Katie seemed just the opposite. She seemed so devoted to him it was strange. But who was I to argue or disagree? Even though I'd escaped the house as soon as I could, I had always been very close to my own family.