Chapter 24: Sophomore Year Begins

August-September 1978

The next week flew by. On Sunday, we used my tickets and went to another baseball game. The Reds were hosting the Cubs. Tom Seaver pitched a lousy game and the Reds lost 7-1. Bethany joined us this time, because Mary wasn’t able to go. As luck would have it, the same guys were sitting behind us.

“Hey, what happened to the sexy blonde?”

“She couldn’t make it today, but this is another one that he’s had sex with,” Melanie said.

“Melanie!” I growled.

“Oh stop, Steve!” And then she turned to the guys, “And before you ask, we did have that foursome we talked about last time.”

“Holy shit, kid. Whatever you have, can you bottle it and sell it to me?”

All his friends and all the girls laughed. I watched the game intently, redder than I would have been with a sunburn.

Bethany leaned over and whispered, “Foursome?”

I just shrugged.

The last weekend before school started was a three-day weekend because of Labor Day. On Saturday, Andreas called me to his office. First he asked me for a name and a photo. I knew what he meant. He also told me that because I couldn’t do regular rounds, and because I was at the High School, there were two tasks I could do.

First, I would take a gym bag and give it to a certain Senior each week. I was sure I knew what that was. I would get an identical bag back from him that I would bring to the apartment. I would count the contents, tally it, and then put it back in the bag. The cycle would repeat each week. I had just graduated to drug courier.

Second, although this wasn’t starting right away, I would have to deliver envelopes to certain seniors. I figured it was payoffs of some kind, gambling or drugs. I knew I couldn’t talk to anyone about this except Joyce, and perhaps Larry. It had to be completely secret from my friends.

And now I was going to receive an extra $100 a week. That meant that my salary during the school year would be about the same as the non-school year, despite only working for sure on Saturdays and one evening a week. $100 cash was far more than I would take home working 40 hours at the minimum wage.

When I left his office, I called Melanie and asked her to bring a Droflim, the Milford yearbook, to the deli, and that I needed to borrow it for at least a week. She said she’d bring it at lunch. When I had it, I took it to Andreas, gave him the name, showed him the picture and left the book with him. He said nothing, so I simply walked out.

Sunday was a lazy day around the house, swimming, reading, and not doing much of anything.

On Labor Day, I had a pool party with Larry, Jennifer, Melanie, Bethany, Ed, Beth Pater, Joyce, Mary, Pete, the neighbor girls, and my sister. I grilled burgers for everyone and we had a grand time ending the Summer. Pete and Melanie were friendly towards each other, but I didn’t detect anything picking up. He was headed to Ohio State on Monday.

A major positive development occurred that evening. Now that I was a Sophomore, my dad extended my curfew to 10:00pm on school nights and 11:30pm on Friday and Saturday. My mom didn’t like it one bit. According to Stephanie, she overheard my dad say that an early curfew won’t keep him from doing things you don’t like when his girlfriends’ parents are permissive. Dad was really going to bat for me.

On Tuesday at school, the very first thing I did was check in the office. I asked if the informational meeting for YFU had been scheduled. They told me it was set for September 26. I asked to sign up, and they put me down first on the list. I also asked if we had any exchange students. True to the pattern of the last 4 years, they said yes, that Petra Johansson was a Junior from Sweden. I would make sure to meet her as soon as possible.

My class list was pretty standard for a Sophomore on the ‘College Bound’ track. Algebra II, Biology, Accelerated English, and Spanish were my core courses. I also had Current Events, Introduction to Psychology, and gym. I was elated to hear Petra’s name called during my Current Events class, but was quite surprised to see that she was a brunette with brown eyes. One more stereotype bit the dust!

As soon as the bell rang for the end of class, I made my way to her to say hi.

“«Hej» Petra!”

“«Hej!»” she answered automatically, but puzzled.

“I’m Steve. You’re the Swedish exchange student, right?”

“Yes.”

“«Hur mår du?»” (“How are you?”)

“«Jag mår bra! Hur är det möjligt att du snacka svenska?»” (“I’m fine! How is it possible you speak Swedish?”)

“Sorry, «Hej», «Hej då», «Tack så mycket», «Var så god», and «Jag älskar dig» are all I know besides «Hur mår du?». Well and one more phrase, but that was private with Birgit, my Swedish girlfriend.”

She laughed, “You have a Swedish girlfriend?”

“I did, she was an exchange student two years ago. I plan to sign up with YFU and go to Sweden next year.”

“Wonderful! Will you see Birgit?”

My face fell.

“No, she died in June in a boating accident.”

“Oh my, I’m so sorry!”

“Thanks. I hope we can be friends. I would love to be able to talk with someone about Sweden this year before I go.”

“I’d love it!”

“Where do you live?”

She gave a street that was in the same sub-division as Larry and Bethany.

“Close enough to ride a bike. Well, I have to get to class. Talk to you tomorrow? OK?”

“Sure. «Hej då», Steve.” (“Goodbye”)

“«Hej då», Petra.” (“Goodbye”)

Before the end of the day, I made my delivery and exchanged gym bags. I’d do that on Mondays going forward.

I went to meet Melanie. She was a Senior now, and I planned to continue Spanish tutoring with her. I had a brand new teacher who did not have the same problem as Mrs. Thompson, but I wanted to make sure I could maintain straight A’s. We walked to Melanie’s house for a review. I hadn’t done anything all Summer, and it showed. Melanie was her usual harsh self with me.

When we finished the flash cards, I said, “Whatever happened to the one that asked me if I wanted to go to bed?”

“Are you offering?”

“In your dreams, Melanie!” I chuckled.

“Just once, please? Just you and me? Just like before Jennifer? You still owe me ten orgasms in a row, remember!”

I knew it was a bad idea, but I said, “I’ll think about it, OK?”

“Yes!” she said excitedly.

I sighed, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“When I mentioned owing Stephanie for all the favors she’s done for me, you gave me a strange smile after you told me to be prepared for her request and I said I’d start saving. Then when I said something about it to Joyce, she said she’d be interested in hearing when the bill came due. I asked her what she meant, and she said nothing. What am I missing?”

“Joyce said that, too? She’s only met Stephanie at your parties, right?”

“Yeah. And once when she cooked for me.”

“Interesting.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Just that it’s obvious she’s going to collect. Sorry, I didn’t mean to concern you. Seriously. Don’t worry about it.”

“Melanie, come on, this is me.”

“You’re overreacting. You’re reading too much into a couple of off-hand remarks.”

I wondered if I was overreacting. What could they mean? No, I was sure I wasn’t overreacting. They both suspected something.

“Look, I’m not a complete idiot. You’re trying to hide something from me. I want to know.”

“Are you sure? Really sure? There’s no turning back.”

“Tell me!”

“When Stephanie comes to collect, it’s going to be with a demand for you to take her virginity.”

“What?! What the hell are you talking about? That’s crazy! She’s my sister!”

“I didn’t say you had to do it, I just told you what she’s going to ask for. And she’s going to insist on it.”

“Damn, Melanie! How the hell can you know that?”

“I’m a girl. I see it. I guess Joyce sees it, too. You have a special relationship with your sister that most couples would kill to have. She’s not going to tell you or say a word to you. She won’t even give you any obvious hints. One day, though, she’ll drop the hammer. You need to be prepared.”

“Prepared for what? I am not having sex with my little sister!”

“I didn’t say you should! I told you to be prepared. If you think Becky was a basket case when you rejected her, think what’s going to happen here. She knows you have sex with pretty much any girl who asks in the right way. She’s going to ask, and she knows the right way. I think you have three or four years, but you better be prepared to deal with it, no matter how you decide to handle it.”

“What part of ‘no’ do you not understand?”

“I told you to be prepared for it and be ready to handle it. I didn’t tell you to fuck her!” she said in an exasperated voice.

“Sorry; I just can’t deal with this.”

“Then forget about it. It’ll be years. But when that day comes, remember she loves you and you love her. And that whatever you do will have a profound effect on her life — and on yours.”

At home that night, at dinner, I paid close attention to Stephanie. I didn’t detect anything. I had never detected anything. Sure, she had been in my room and seen me naked, but that didn’t appear to have been planned as far as I could tell. Spying on me having sex twice could be significant evidence, but it could also just be curiosity. She read my journal so I could see her wanting to get an idea of what it was like. I was going to have to keep an eye on her and look for clues.

I tried to program but couldn’t concentrate so I went to my room and tried to read. I couldn’t concentrate on that either. I couldn’t write it in my journal because Stephanie read it, and so might Doctor Mercer. I lay in bed for over an hour before I fell asleep. I was happy that my dreams didn’t take me to a place I could never, ever go. By morning, I was more settled in my thinking and tried to put the idea from my mind. I just didn’t see it. I hoped I wasn’t blind.

The rest of the week at school was basically the same. I had a date with Jennifer on Friday night, Larry and I played chess on Saturday, and Beth and I had our ‘computer date’ on Sunday. The next week was almost identical. I was doing fine in all my classes, and felt good about getting straight A’s.

Both Becky and Anna had called. I was relieved when neither of them even hinted at getting together or a relationship. It had been long enough with Anna that I was pretty sure she wasn’t pregnant from that first encounter. I also knew that Becky remembered inviting me to her house one more time before I left, and what she wanted. I hadn’t decided what to do, but my first inclination had been to say ‘no’ and that still made sense.

I had made friends with Petra and found out that she was from Lund in Southern Sweden. She joined Larry, Jennifer, and me at lunch. Most of the rest of our gang were on a different lunch, but Dave Allen and Christine Krebs, who were from Kevin’s group of friends, were on the same lunch and joined us.

On September 26th, I went to the Youth for Understanding info meeting. Judith Seime, the YFU volunteer coordinator for Cincinnati, was there, as were Petra and a couple of Seniors I didn’t know who had gone to Germany and Japan the previous year. Five other students who were interested in the program were there, plus Jennifer, who had come out of curiosity.

There was a slideshow and each of the exchange students talked. Mrs. Seime asked each of the students why they were interested. I talked about my friend Birgit, how she had encouraged me to come to Sweden, and that she had died at the beginning of the Summer. Mrs. Seime knew her, of course, and said she had been very sad to hear that. At the end, she handed out information packets. I asked for an application which she gave me. It was about ten pages long and had several essay questions in addition to inquiring about just about every aspect of my life.

When I got home that night, I showed it to my dad, and we discussed it further. The fees weren’t too bad, around $3000. I said I could pay part of it, but he suggested that it would be better if I used my money as spending money when I was because since I wouldn’t be working for an entire year. He told me he’d talk to Mom, but that I should go ahead and fill it out. He’d sign it and then I could get the three recommendation letters I needed from teachers, plus my grade transcript and give an evaluation form to my guidance counselor.

I knew which teachers I’d ask — Mr. Dixon, my 8th grade history teacher, Mr. Herbers, the math and computer teacher, and Miss Barkhurst, my biology teacher. I had a new guidance counselor, but I knew my school record was clean as a whistle and, except for B’s in Spanish, I had all A’s. From my perspective, I was as good as in.