Chapter 5: Heterochromia Iridum

Something heavy fell on me, causing me to fly awake.

" ... school today! Don't sleep through it!"

When I groggily forced my eyes open, I saw Nicole sitting at the foot of my bed.

"The hell, Nicole?"

"C'mon, get up!" She urged, yanking on the covers.

"My alarm hasn't gone off yet, asshole." I grunted.

"It will, in--" Nicole gave me an "I told you so" look as my alarm interrupted her.

"Ugh." I grunted again as I threw the covers off and shoved Nicole off of the bed.

When I turned back around from grabbing some clothes, Nicole was still standing there.

"Hey, my eyes are up here, Nicole." I had seen her eyes flick back up to mine just as I turned around. "You wanna leave?" I suggested sarcastically.

"Yeah, sorry." She said, almost trance-like as she exited the room.

I looked down to see what had caught her attention. When I saw what it was, I groaned. My morning wood had been poking out of my boxers, exposing about half my dick. This was becoming too common; I was really going to have to stop letting Nicole see me in various states of undress.

The morning progressed how it usually would: I ate breakfast, drove Nicole to school, kept my brain awake enough to remember some things from class, etc. Then, at lunch, the day got interesting. My friends and I met in our usual place by the stairs in front of school.

I told them about my date with Emily, which they each responded to differently. All of the guys gave me high-fives and wished me luck, but the girls just mainly looked disappointed that I wouldn't be joining the group for lunch.

"Hey, I gotta go. I'll see you guys soon." I left for my car, looking up at the gloomy grey sky and hoping that the rain would hold off. Unfortunately, it didn't; as I followed Emily's texted directions, thunder clapped and rolled and rain began to fall.

When I got to her sorority house, which I identified by the massive Greek letters adorning its front awning, it was chilly and pouring rain. I darted up to the door and, when I didn't see a doorbell, knocked loudly. The door opened and a couple girls looked at me confusedly.

"Is Emily here? And can I come in?" I asked them desperately, soaked in rain.

"Yeah." The redhead said. They scurried out of the way to let me in. "Emily who?"

"Umm..." I paused to think of how to describe Emily in a non crassly-sexual way. "She plays basketball..." As I tried to think of something else to say, it dawned on me how little I really knew about this girl.

"Bond. Emily Bond." She waltzed into the room. She wasn't dressed for a date, so clearly she had better info about the weather than me. She was wearing a tank top and sweats with fuzzy slippers.

"Is this the guy you were telling us about?" The brunette asked Emily.

"You told others about me? Only naughty things, I hope." I grinned at Emily. "By the way, you girls have any towels in this place?"

"I told them lots of good things." She assured me. "Now, take your shirt off. You're dripping everywhere."

She came over to me and started pulling my t-shirt over my head. The other girls watched closely as my torso was exposed. I did my best to contain a shiver as the cool air descended upon my wet skin. The girls looked at me appreciatively when they saw my full torso uncovered. That feeling never gets old.

"Rachel, would you get him a towel?" Emily guided me to their living room, where a large fire was roaring in the fireplace. I sat down in one of the big couches and pulled Emily onto my lap, her legs perpendicular to mine.

Rachel, the redhead, hurried back with a large green towel and handed it to Emily. She draped it around my shoulders and gave me a hug.

"Sorry about our super-romantic date." I kissed her on the cheek.

"Meh, it's fine. We can just get takeout or something." She smiled at me.

"Sounds good to me." I patted my stomach. "Growing boy and all."

"Alrighty then," she got up from my lap and strode over to the phone, "Chinese sound good?"

"Absolutely." I grinned. "I'll just have twice as much of whatever you have."

She stuck her tongue out at me and called the Chinese place. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang.

"There's a doorbell?" I asked Emily, surprised.

"Duh." She rolled her eyes.

The rain was still coming down hard, so we tipped the poor delivery guy well.

"Thank you so much!" Emily flashed the guy a bright smile and handed me the food so she could shut the door. "Let's just eat in the living room, in true college fashion."

"Fine by me." I placed the food on the coffee table and plopped myself down on the couch.

We ate in silence for a minute or two, focusing more on filling our empty stomachs than making conversation. After a short while, though, I decided to begin my mission to find out more about Emily.

"So, there's no way that Bond is actually your last name, right?"

"Unfortunately, no. It's actually Osbourne."

"Like Ozzy!" I exclaimed.

"Haven't heard that one before..." She grinned.

I laughed. "It's your turn to ask a question now."

"Oh, we're playing this game, eh?"

"Yup, truth or truth. Remind you of high school?"

"Hey, it's my turn to ask a question!" She protested.

"Fair enough," I held up my hands in surrender, "hit me."

"Ok ... Favorite color?"

"Orange." I said immediately. "And none of that burnt-orange bullshit. I'm talking bright-muthafuckin' orange."

"Ok!" She laughed. "Your turn."

"What ... is your favorite movie? And if you say 'The Notebook' or some bullshit like that, I'm leaving. 'Cause fuck Nicholas Sparks."

"Hmm... 'Mean Girls' for sure." She replied.

"I'm ok with that, actually. It's pretty funny; Tina Fey is the shit."

"Yes! Her Sarah Palin impression is so funny!"

I laughed as I remembered that particular running joke and broke into my own Sarah Palin impression. "Your turn to ask a question, eh!"

"That's actually pretty good!" She giggled.

"I'm the best at impressions."

"Oh, really? Jerry Seinfeld." She challenged.

"What's the deal with forks?!" I cried.

"Christopher Walken!"

"Christopher Walken ... is easy!" I exclaimed in Walken's pinched, back-of-the-throat voice. He's my favorite celebrity to imitate because even if the imitation is bad, everyone knows who it's supposed to be.

"Chris Rock!"

"The penguins are doin' it! Why can't I?"

I switched to Ben Stiller's voice. "Because the penguins are psychotic!"

Emily applauded me enthusiastically. "How did you learn to do that?"

"I don't know." I answered truthfully. "I just discovered that I was good at it one day, and I've been doing it ever since."

"But back to the game!" I ordered. "Whose turn is it?"

"Yours."

"Ok, um ... What is the craziest thing you've done in the past ... three months?"

"Oh my god! You'll never believe this, but I had sex in the gym shower with a guy I had just met!" She winked.

"Wow, that's crazy! I wish I had the balls to do that!"

We shared a laugh as we thought about our unusual first meeting.

"What's your favorite song?" She kicked off her slippers and put her legs in my lap to stretch out.

"Nice socks." I teased. She was wearing fuzzy blue socks that were adorned with penguins.

"Hey, it's a free country. A girl can wear penguin socks if she wants to." She fired back.

I gently took hold of her outstretched feet and started massaging them, kneading her soles with my fingertips. Emily sighed in pleasure.

"I guess my favorite song changes a lot," I mused, "but right now, it's probably 'Take it Easy' by Eagles."

"That's a great song!" She gasped. "There's a guitar somewhere around here. You should play it after you finish this excellent massage!"

"If you're good." I smirked. "Do you have any talents that no one knows about?"

"Good one. Hmm ... I like to sing." She shyly replied.

"Well, now I have to play a song for you." I declared. "And you shall sing along."

"I guess..." She said. "My turn. Do you have any hobbies that I don't know about?" She lifted her legs off of me and went to grab the guitar from the corner it was sitting in.

"I like to draw, paint, write, play video games ... Typical renaissance man stuff."

"Y'know, if you weren't such a nice guy, I'd think you were a douchebag." Emily observed while handing me the guitar.

"That's kinda my thing." I admitted. "Ostensibly, I'm a super-arrogant, yet incredibly sexy douchebag, but deep down, I'm actually a sweet and cuddly, yet sexy, teddy bear."

"Were you always such a sexy teddy bear?" Emily put her feet back on me, wiggling her toes to indicate that I should continue my massage.

"No, actually. I used to be normal, but then I decided to be a badass."

"How did that happen?" She wondered.

"A few years ago, I heard this quote from Jean-Paul Sartre: 'Men, like bullets, go farthest when they are smoothest.' Then I started thinking about why all the girls like James Bond or Indiana Jones or whoever. I realized that it's because they all have this natural confidence that comes from not giving a shit what anyone else thinks and just being themselves."

"Confidence is definitely sexy." She agreed. "And passion: I love it when a guy has something interesting that he just lives for."

I started strumming random chords on the guitar while I tried to think of another question. "I can't think of anything interesting to ask."

"You have to play a song for me anyway!" Emily reminded me.

I began playing and singing an acoustic version of "Move Bitch", by Ludacris. Emily cracked up at the odd mix of acoustic vocals with extremely rude lyrics.

When she started singing along, I was astonished at her beautiful singing voice, which was apparent despite the lyrically-challenged song. I was so astonished, in fact, that I missed several chords and stopped singing altogether.

"Wow. You really do sing." My mouth was agape.

"A little." She humbly replied.

"Seriously. If you learn the guitar, you could be the next Sarah McLachlan."

"Shut up!" She giggled and playfully hit me on the arm.

"C'mon. I'll teach you some stuff." I motioned for her to sit next to me facing the same direction.

I slipped the strap over my head and draped it over her shoulder as I put the guitar in her lap.

"Here," I said, reaching around her to place her hands in the correct position, "keep your thumb at the second fret and hold the pick between your thumb and forefinger. Like this." I gently moved her fingers to the right place.

"Wanna learn 'When September Ends'?" I asked her. "It's really easy."

"Sure."

I continued guiding her fingers and helping her until she could play the first few notes by herself. When she played them successfully, she let out a cute "Yay!", gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and continued playing.

I leaned back to watch her practicing. She seemed to really enjoy it, even when she made a mistake. I, too, enjoyed the fruits of my labor; Emily was adorable when she focused on something: all distractions were shut out, her eyes were narrowed in concentration, her face was set in a determined frown.

After a couple successful runs through the beginning of the song, she put down the guitar.

"You think you might be interested in learning more sometime?" I asked her.

"That depends. Are you gonna teach me?" She shot back.

"Only if you agree to teach me some stuff about basketball."

"Only if you agree to be as shirtless then as you are now." Emily turned to face me and straddled my lap.

"I think I can handle that." I quipped.

We made eye contact and sat there for a little while, looking into each other's eyes as if to discover what was going on behind them. Emily slowly leaned down toward me, but stopped with her face a few inches away from mine.

Her hair had fallen in front of her face, so I pushed it out of her eyes with a finger and softly grabbed the back of her head to pull her closer. She smiled and closed her eyes as our lips met.

From the beginning, I could tell that this kiss wasn't going to lead anywhere dirty. It was more of an expression of affection than of lust: slow, with no hurry to advance to the next "base", to use the clichéd baseball analogy.

Emily wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me tighter up against her. I responded by running my hands up and down her back and neck. Under my hands, I felt her soft, smooth, warm-to-the-touch skin. She had a muscular body, but in an uniquely feminine way: it contributed to her slender figure by adding some curviness.

The rain continued falling heavily, creating a soothing, quiet rumble as it pounded the roof of the house. While we made out, I tried to figure out Emily's taste; it was exotic, like a mix of citrus and spice, something I'd never experienced before.

While I was pondering this, I sort of fell sideways onto the couch. Emily fell on top of me with a laugh and we paused our make-out session for a few moments. Soon, though, Emily had sexily crawled on top of me and firmly pressed her mouth against mine once again.

Our movements were synchronized perfectly: if I tilted my head to the right, Emily would do the same, allowing our heads to be even closer; if Emily leaned more into the kiss, I would pull her head closer so I could reply in kind.

When we finally broke the kiss off, Emily sat on my lap like she had before we kissed. I looked into her eyes and realized something that I hadn't before.

"Heterochromia iridum..." I murmured.

Her eyes were gorgeously mismatched: one was bluish green, clear like a tropical sea; the other was an electric blue flecked with coffee-brown. The combination of the two made her even more intoxicatingly, exotically beautiful.

"You just realized now?" She giggled. "Shows where your eyes have been spending most of their time." She squeezed her boobs with one hand.

I laughed. "Yeah ... It's pretty beautiful, for a genetic mutation."

"Gee, thanks. Way to ruin the moment." She complained, but the sparkle in her eyes belied her disappointed overtone.

"Speaking of ruining the moment, the rain is letting up, so I should probably get out of here." I started to get up.

"But don't you want to stay here? With me?" Emily softly raked my bare pecs and abs with her painted nails.

Now was the time to tell her what I had been thinking. I tried to ignore my uncharacteristic nervousness and spoke.

"Emily, I like you a lot, so I don't want this thing we have to be based solely on sex, no matter how awesome our sex is. If we have sex every time we hang out, it won't be as ... special, for lack of a better word." Though she looked slightly crestfallen, I blundered on. "That said, we don't have to stop having sex: I just don't want it to be the only reason that we spend time together. Relationships built on sex never last, and I'm interested in seeing where things go with you."

Emily pondered this for a moment.

"You think this'll last?"

"I always give everything a try." I said seriously. "Except receiving anal. That, I won't do." I added, trying to lighten the mood.

Emily's giggle turned into an glowing smile. "You're different, Aaron. I like that a lot."

With that, she moved in for another kiss. I smiled back and accepted her advance, but after a minute or two, I had to let her go.

"We're gonna hang out again soon. I'll text you sometime." I declared as I made my way to the door.

"For sure." She agreed.

I opened the door and walked a few steps before I realized that I had forgotten something.

"Hey, Emily, can I have my shirt?"

"Yeeess," she groaned, "but I like you better without it. Come get it."

When I walked back up to the door to retrieve my shirt, Emily stood on her tippy-toes to give me another quick peck on the lips.

"Bye." She waved shyly from halfway behind the door.

I smiled down at her and walked over to my car with my shirt hanging on my shoulder. By the time I reached my car, I heard catcalls from behind me. Emily and a bunch of her sorority sisters were leaning out the windows, shouting obscenities in my direction.

I solemnly raised my middle finger at them, but then began swinging my shirt around like a male stripper. Their peals of laughter caused me to grin; Emily's face was contorted in mirth as she laughed hysterically, still throwing raucously sexual suggestions at me.

I got into my car and decided to continue the show for a little while. I put the car into neutral and revved its massive V8 engine. The girls all made grossly exaggerated "impressed" faces. I laughed to myself as I drove off, racing against the clock to avoid being late for school.

School started again at around 1:15, and I had about ten minutes to make it there. Luckily, The U's campus is right next to my school's, so I arrived at around 1:10. I hastily dragged my shirt over my head and jogged to PE. All the guys were still getting dressed, so I joined them.

"Hey dude, how was your date?" Jake asked me, making air quotes with his fingers as he said 'date'.

"It was great. She's really cool."

"Yeah, whatever." David said dismissively. "What we really want to know is, did you smash, mon?" David's Jamaican accent (he and his parents came here from Jamaica a couple years ago) made it sound more like 'didja smosh, mon?'.

I laughed. "Not this time, mon."

"But other times?" He queried.

"Yup."

"My boy Aaron's growing up." He told Jake as he high-fived me. David likes to think of himself as my mentor, even though I have way more luck with women than he does.

(I'm going to stop

"Is she hot?" Jake asked me, ignoring David.

"Cutting straight to the point, as usual..."

Jake merely winked in response.

"Gorgeous," I replied, "she looks like a model and plays basketball for The U, so she's in really good shape. Also, she has an amazing singing voice."

"You didn't say she was in college, homeboy!" David cried.

"Yeah, she's just a freshman, though." I grinned at their awestruck faces.

"Damn!" They exclaimed in unison.

Coach K was getting impatient. "Let's go, ladies! Finish putting on your makeup and get out here!" He's a cool guy, but not the biggest feminist.

We sprinted out to the court and formed a half-assed circle around him.

"Stretches! Touch your toes." He barked.

From all of my years of karate, I was pretty flexible; I bent at my waist and let my palms hit the ground, my fingers splaying outward. The stretching continued in this vein until it was time to do whatever Coach had planned.

"Today, we're playing dodgeball." He declared. He then divided us into two teams.

I took a look at my team; David and Jake were both on my team and the rest of the people looked somewhat athletic, so I was happy.

Coach K lined up a bunch of foam-ish balls in the middle of the court. "When I blow my whistle, all of you run to grab the balls from the middle."

He blew his whistle and the game began. David, Jake and I made it to the middle before anyone else and picked up all of the balls but one. We passed them out to our team members and started picking off players from the other team.

Soon, just Jake and I were left on our team with one guy on the other team. We coordinated our throws to give him nowhere to go and won the game. In the midst of our post-win celebratory dancing, I noticed something strange. In the corner of the gym was a slightly built guy, maybe a few inches shorter than me, wearing a brace on his presumably broken nose.

Could it be? I didn't think so, but how many people could fit that description? Our town isn't exactly small, but there couldn't be many broken noses at any given time. I decided to go talk to him, ignoring my instincts to leave it alone.

"Excuse me, is your nose broken?"

"Obviously." He shot back without even looking up.

"How did that happen?" I asked him innocently.

"Fell off my bike." He replied tersely. "Can you leave?" This time, he looked up. There was no hint of recognition in his eyes; I knew he wasn't the guy.

"Right. Sorry to bother you, dude." I walked back to the locker room to get changed into my normal clothes.

I was deep in thought, wondering who the mystery attacker was, so I didn't hear Jake talking to me.

" ... Aaron? Aaron." He waved his hand in front of my face.

"What?"

"I was talking to you, dude."

"Sorry. Thinking." I apologized only somewhat sincerely.

"I was asking you if you thought I should ask Lana out. You seem to be pretty good with these things."

"Umm..." I paused to make up a lie. "Lana's actually not dating right now: she's kind of trying to focus on school and stuff." I silently congratulated myself on what I thought was an excellent story.

"Yeah..." Jake said, not entirely convinced. "She's so hot though, right?"

"Totally, dude." I had stopped listening again. Who was this crazy guy that Nicole had been dating and why did he react so badly to her dumping him? Did he go to our school, or was he older? I resolved to interrogate Nicole about him later.

"Seeya, guys." I said as the bell rang and I strolled off to art.

I sat down in the same spot as the previous days and waited for Lana to come in. When she did, I waved her over.

"Hey, Lana, I have something to tell you."

"Ok?" She said somewhat nervously.

"Jake wants to go out with you. I told him that you weren't dating right now because I wasn't sure if you wanted him to know the truth or not."