Chapter 6

Once again, Hannah turned on the water to rinse out her rag. As she leaned over the tub, I softly called her name, but she didn’t respond. Grinning, I ran a finger down her bare backside, which was practically in my face.

She jumped and spun around, eyes wide. “Oh, jeez, don’t do that! You’re gonna get me all excited again.”

I mouthed the words, Thank you.

“You’re very welcome. I loved it.” Then, with a smirk, she added, “Now, can you hand me that air freshener so we can get this place cleaned up?”

I reached for her hand instead. “You know that was my first time?”

She cocked her head. “Well, you did mention never really kissing a girl before—so, yeah.”

“Hey, don’t be mean! How about I make up for lost time by kissing you again?”

She returned the kiss but pulled away with a laugh. “No time for round two—I really do have to clean. Now cover yourself up and go downstairs to get your clothes.”

Frowning, I muttered, “If you say so,” as I grabbed my swim trunks and pulled them back up.

I skipped down the hall and bounced down the steps—only to come to a screeching halt when I spotted her sister Sarah sitting on the couch, watching TV.

She was here the whole time!

She turned her head toward me and smirked. “Well, that was a long shit.”

My gut clenched. My chest tightened. I forced myself to stay calm. “Sometimes you just gotta wait for things to come.”

“Oh wow, hilarious,” she deadpanned.

Fear quickly turned into irritation. “What is your problem?”

Sarah jumped up, glaring at me. “You gonna stick that thing in me too?”

“What? What the hell are you talking about? You’re how old, for Christ’s sake?”

“I’m the same age as Ellen—and you showed it to her.”

I looked away, heat creeping up my neck. “That ... uh, well ... that was a mistake.”

“I bet you enjoyed it though.”

I frantically glanced around for Hannah, but she was nowhere in sight. Turning back to Sarah, I huffed, “Why am I arguing with a kid?”

Her voice rose. “Because of what you just did to my sister! I thought maybe you have a thing for little girls.”

“Hannah’s not a little girl!”

“She’s only two years older than me, and my boobs are just as big! But she’s all grown up, and I’m still a kid?”

“Yes!”

“Or am I just too hideous?”

“No! C’mon, Sarah—”

Just then, Hannah came down the steps in gym shorts and a t-shirt. She snuggled up to my side, wrapping her arm around my waist. “He didn’t take advantage of anybody. If I had left it up to him, I’d still be waiting for our first kiss.”

Sarah shot back sarcastically, “Well, what’s Mom going to think when she finds out her little princess isn’t a virgin anymore?”

Hannah stiffened. “Are you threatening to tell?”

I held her shoulders to keep her from lunging at Sarah.

Sarah scoffed. “No, I’m not telling anyone—but she’s not stupid. How long do you really think you’re gonna keep it a secret?”

I felt Hannah trembling, her eyes welling with tears. “Stop it! Are you just trying to suck all the joy out of the most special day of my life?”

Sarah threw up her hands. “Everyone has sex but__ me! Forget it!”

She stomped up the steps and slammed her door.

Hannah turned back to me, and I pulled her into my arms, pressing her against my bare chest. She let out a shuddering breath, then pounded her fist lightly against my arm.

I ran my fingers through her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “C’mon, it’ll be okay.”

She sniffled and looked up at me. “But what if she tells and ruins everything?”

I wiped her tear-streaked cheeks. “I don’t think she’ll tell. She seemed caught somewhere between being jealous and calling me a perv.”

Hannah let out a watery chuckle. “You’re not a perv. Who could resist this?”

I smiled, relieved to see her laugh again. I held her for a few more minutes, but when I glanced at the clock, I sighed.

I leaned back, still stroking her hair. “Not that I don’t love this and all, but I gotta get home. You gonna be okay?”

She nodded, even as another tear slid down her cheek. “I’ll try talking to her after a little bit.”

I gave her one last kiss on the forehead, then stepped back. “Excuse me while I get dressed.”

I quickly stripped off my wet trunks and reached for my clothes on the couch.

Hannah’s eyes widened, and she whispered loudly, “What are you doing? What if Sarah comes back?”

I grinned mischievously. “Gotta change. I can’t wear those wet trunks under my clothes.”

She crossed her arms. “Yeah, yeah—you just think I wanna see it all the time.”

Then, her expression turned serious as she poked a finger into my chest. “She’s right, though. This isn’t going to be easy to keep from our folks.”

I nodded. “Call me after school tomorrow—we need to talk about this.”

As I turned to leave, she grabbed my hand. “Joe ... that was really special. I’ll never forget my—our—first time.” She smiled softly. “Thank you. It was fantastic.”

Despite the incident with Sarah, it was still the happiest day of my life. I felt high as a kite as I bounced through the back door, calling out, “Hi, Mom!” as I passed through the kitchen. She was sorting an Avon order on the breakfast table and barely glanced up.

“I take it you had a good time?”

“Oh, yeah.”

I took the stairs two at a time, heading straight for my room—then hesitated.

You probably smell like Hannah.

Pausing mid-stride, I veered into the bathroom instead. Gazing at my reflection, I noticed my hair was sticking up in every direction.

Stripping down, I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run over me, washing away the any scents. My mind wandered, as did my hand, replaying the afternoon, the warmth of Hannah’s skin, the way she had moved against me, the way she had—

The bathroom door creaked open.

“Since when do you shower at this time of day?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Maaa-om!” I yelped, twisting away from the curtain.

She stood just inside the doorway, completely unfazed. “What? Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Not fully erect.

At least, not that I know of.

I grabbed for the nearest wash rag, shielding myself as best I could. “Just rinsing off the chlorine, n’at.”

“Mm-hmm,” she replied quizzically. “Shampoo’s over there when you need it. Oh—what I actually came in here for—when you’re done, take your dirty clothes to the basement and throw them in the washer. You’ll need clean ones for school this week.”

Before I could form a response, she turned and shut the door behind her.

I sagged against the tile, exhaling sharply. My memories of Hannah had been suddenly replaced with the image of my mother staring at my manhood.

Finishing my shower in record time, I dried off and grabbed some fresh clothes. Slipping into a T-shirt and boxers, I made my way to the TV room, where my parents were already settled in for the night.

Archie Bunker. One Day at a Time. Alice. The Jeffersons. Trapper John, M.D.

Just another typical night in the Long household.

I glanced at my dad, then at my mom.

What was I supposed to do—jump up and announce, “Hey Ma! Pa! I’m a man now!”?

Yeah. No. That conversation would have to wait until I saw Matt at school tomorrow.

I felt the bed shake.

“Don’t you think it’s time to get up?”

I opened my eyes to see my mother standing over me. I glanced at the alarm.

09:55

“I’ve got five more minutes.”

“And you only got thirty-five until class starts. Get up now and get in the shower.”

I groaned, rolling over and clutching my pillow. “Ohhh, I took one last night.”

“Like that’s good enough. Now get your ass up—I’m not going to be here every morning to hand you a clean pair of boxers.”

She tossed a pair onto the bed. I sat up and moaned, “All riiiight,” as I stumbled toward the bathroom.

“And don’t take all day about it,” she called from the doorway, watching until I stepped into the shower. “And just clean yourself off. No time for anything else.”

Is she ever going to forget that?

A few minutes later, dressed but still bleary-eyed, I wandered into the kitchen. Mom poured a cup of coffee and glanced up.

“I guess there’s no time for breakfast?”

I flipped through my stuff, making sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. “Nah, I’ll grab something at the cafeteria.”

“You know, less than two years and you’ll...”

“ ... have to get a real job.” I turned away, rolling my eyes. Keys in hand, I looked back at her. “Yes, I know. Get up at six instead of ten. You and Dad make sure to remind me all the time.”

“He’s not always wrong, you know.”

I checked my watch for the first time since last semester. 10:12

Might make it.

I decided to try the highway again. Maybe five minutes later, I was into town and onto the four-lane. As soon as I left the on-ramp, I hit the accelerator, easing back when I got it up to seventy-five.

Look out for cops.

Five exits later, I was back on the streets and I managed to hit every green light as I whizzed past the mall.

Six miles in five minutes.

Pushing fifty in a thirty-five, I spotted the wooded, hilltop campus. After one last light, I turned into the drive, glancing at Pineland High on the right before pulling into a lot on the left. No empty spaces.

I tried the next lot.

Over there!

Some idiot had parked over the yellow line, but I prided myself on my ability to squeeze the Pinto into tight spaces—even if I had to wedge myself out of the driver’s door.

Fast-walking toward the classroom buildings, I clutched my schedule tightly so it wouldn’t blow away.

Linear Algebra. Maple 105.

Fuckin’ Foster—again.

I bolted through the open door, then slammed on the brakes, scanning the room. Mostly familiar faces, as most math majors had the same classes together, year after year.

Of course, an empty desk sat beside Michelle, even if it was in the front row.

I let my eyes briefly soak in her delicious details before tossing down my notebook and taking the seat.

“Neighbors again?”

Her New Jersey accent was unmistakable. “Hey Joe, how’ya doin’?”

Two years before, she had wandered into class and sat beside me—choosing to do the same every semester after that. She was fine—beautiful face, rock-hard slender body, curves in all the right places—and black. And, last I heard, still wondering if the boy back home was missing her body.

I don’t care what anyone says, I would pound her...

Snapping back to reality, I responded, “Really well—baseball was good, we made the tourney, and I started dating a girl a few weeks back.”

She laid her hand on my arm. “Congratulations. Really glad to hear it.”

As the professor entered, I whispered, “Ready for Dr. Foster?”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

The good Doctor rifled through some papers on his desk. Nothing had changed. His hair was greasy, beard patchy, and half his polyester shirt hung out over his belt. He pushed his black horn-rimmed glasses up his nose and looked around the room.

“Uh, class—good to see many of you again. This semester, we’ll be studying computational linear algebra, which is primarily matrix theory...”

Is this really what I want to do?

I barely heard half of what he was saying.

An hour later, class dismissed, I waited in the hallway.

“Matt! You want to get some lunch?”

We’d been best friends since our first day on campus.

“Yeah, sure—how you been?”

Out on the sidewalk, heading for the student union, I grinned. “I’ve been fine. Really fine.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Really fine? You tryin’ to tell me something?”

“Well, yeah. Yesterday—I lost it.”

“Lost?” He stared at me. “Oh. Oh—you did it? Yesterday?”

“Yeah, we did it.”

He stopped, turning to face me. “And just who is this we that you did it with? Anyone I know?”

“You don’t know her. Hannah—Hannah Constantino. Her family moved into town in July.”

“Yeah? And where did yunz guys meet?”

“Well ... her brother plays baseball, and...” I hesitated, searching for the right words. “And she’s my cousin.”

Matt’s face went blank.

“She’s your what?”

I just smiled, holding my hands out, palms up. “My cousin. First cousin. I hadn’t seen her for six years, and she was so smoking hot, and we just hit it off, and one thing led to another, and another...”

“And how old is this chick?”

I pointed behind him. “She goes to Pineland—across the street.”

He looked down, shook his head, and sighed. “And who all knows you’re boning your cousin?”

“Besides you? Her brother and sister—but I think they’re cool.”

“You think they’re cool?”

“Well, her sister got an attitude last night, but Hannah was gonna talk to her.”

Matt ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, man. You gotta watch out.”

“C’mon, I love her. I really do. You’re gonna have to meet her.”

He held open the door to the student union. “Eh, you know where I live. Now, how about we go ahead and talk about the Bucs some?”

I finished my food and glanced at the clock. “Twelve-fifteen. I might make it to class on time.”

Matt grinned. “How about some air hockey?”

“Not a good idea to skip class on the first day. I’ve got Database next—how about you?”

Pulling out his schedule, Matt nodded. “Yep, same. Do you know Penrod? Sounds new.”

We found a pair of seats near the middle of the room. I nodded toward the front and whispered, “Damn. Nice rack.”

He checked the name scrawled on the blackboard. “Mrs., not Doctor. So, she’s married but doesn’t have a Ph.D.”

“It’s not cold in here, so I wonder which one of us is causing that reaction?”

Two hours later, leaving Operating Systems, Matt asked, “What’s wrong? Despite your good news, you don’t seem very enthusiastic today.”

I sighed. “My grades already suck, and I don’t see how I’m gonna learn anything practical here. I feel like this is a big waste of time.”

“School?”

“No—just these classes. Database looks useful, but Operating Systems? What have I got myself into?”

Matt shrugged. “I don’t know, man. We’ll see if it gets better on Wednesday.”

I headed out to the parking lot after stopping by the bookstore to check prices. On my way, I paused near the edge of campus, watching the Pineland football team and marching band practice on their field across the street. A small part of me hoped to catch a glimpse of Hannah, but I grinned, figuring she and the guys were probably out on a trail somewhere, pushing through cross country practice.

Arriving home later than usual, I found Dad already back from school, reading the paper at the kitchen table while Mom stirred something on the stove.

She glanced up. “How was your day, honey?”

I shifted my notebooks under my arm. “Pretty good—got Dr. Foster again, but at least Matt’s in all my classes this semester.”

Mom nodded, but Dad didn’t look up from his paper.

“I’m gonna lay down for a bit—call me when supper’s ready?”

“Sure thing.”

I was out like a light.

“Jooooe.”

Mom’s voice jolted me awake. I sat up groggily, fumbling my way to the top of the stairs. “Coming.”

“No, honey—not supper. Hannah’s on the phone.”

“Oh, thanks—I’ll get it up here.”

I slumped against the wall in my parents’ room, picking up the receiver from the end table.

“Hey!”

“Hi, Joe. How are you? I...”

“So how was your first day?”

Where’s the click?

“Really good, but you won’t believe what happened. Dave says he’s in love.”

I blinked. “Your brother Dave? Not some random Dave at school?”

She laughed. “Yes, my brother! I get home and—”

Click.

“ ... he can’t wait to tell me about this girl in his homeroom.” I heard her cover the receiver. “Yeah, I’m talking about you!”

I smirked. “Love-’em-and-leave-’em Dave actually wants to spend time with a girl? I’ll have to talk to him about it at the reunion on Saturday—if they haven’t broken up by then.”

“Well, enough about him, Joe. What are you taking this semester? I guess you’ve got all these crazy advanced courses that you’re gonna get bad grades in?”

I huffed. “Not funny. But before that—how’s Sarah?”

Hannah sighed. “She’s okay.”

“Really? You sure?”

“Yeah. I had a talk with her last night after you left. I think she’s just having a rough time with puberty and feeling kind of left out.”

I hesitated, but Hannah quickly changed the subject. “But I want to hear about you.”

“Same old, same old. It’s math and computers—so, I have Computational Linear Algebra...”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun.”

“Smart ass! And Relational Database Design, Operating Systems, Foreign Trade, and Survey Research Methods.”

“What’s that survey one about?”

“I don’t have the first class until tomorrow, but the syllabus says it’s about designing polls—like what Gallup does—so they’re not biased, and how to interpret the results.”

She perked up. “Cool! I have six classes—first, A.P. Science...”

“What’s A.P.?”

“Advanced Placement, for us smart kids.”

“We just called it ‘Honors.’”

“Yeah, well, that was when? Anyway, I get biology this year, then Algebra I for my A.P. Math...”

“I had Algebra I in ninth, too.”

“Then English Composition, U.S. Government, Spanish I, and Choir.”

“All that and cross country?”

“Yep—I don’t get done with practice until four.” She paused. “Oh—that reminds me. Mom’s letting Dave drive her car.”

“When’s he getting his license?”

“Oh, he already has one.”

I froze. “And I drove his ass around all summer?”

“Yeah, that—but now that I’m staying after school, they won’t always be able to pick me up. And who knows? Maybe Dave will actually go on some dates.”

Mom’s voice carried up the stairs. “Joe, supper’s ready!”

“Comin’, Mom!” Then I turned back to Hannah. “Hey, what time’s your lunch break?”

“At school? Eleven forty-five to twelve-fifteen. Why?”

“Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I’m off from eleven-twenty until one. If you can get out of the building, maybe you can slip across the road, and we can have lunch together. Sit out on a bench, or grab something at the diner?”

“Where would I find you?”

“By the parking lot, between the two classroom buildings. It should only take you a minute or two to get there.”

Mom’s voice rang out again. “Joe, you coming? Your Swiss steak’s getting cold.”

“Yeah, Mom.”

Hannah giggled. “Ooh, I can’t wait to see you!”

“Same here! Talk to you later.”

As I entered the kitchen, Mom looked up. “What did Hannah have to say?”

“We were comparing notes on our classes. She’s taking some pretty heady stuff for a freshman.”

It was a little past ten that night when my mom called out from the TV room, “Hey Joe, the Bucs are comin’ on.”

Walking out of my room, I caught my dad muttering, “Whoop-dee-do, the Pie Rats.” He turned to me and asked, “Finish your homework?”

“It was only the first day of class. I’m not even buying my books until tomorrow,” I replied, settling into the loveseat next to Mom.

She said, “Let’s watch the game—but I’m not staying up ‘til four in the morning, like Saturday night!”

“Eh, I don’t have class until twelve-thirty tomorrow. I can sleep in.”

Dad scoffed. “Must be nice.”

Mom ignored him. “And don’t forget, you have to stop at the bank and then go to the bookstore.”

“I know, I will.” I glanced at my father. “What’s the difference if I don’t get up early? I get my fifteen credits in, and I’m back here by four.”

“And how many nights do you go back up to campus, putting more miles on the car? Are you playing house with some chickie-poo up there?”

“Chris!” Mom exclaimed, exasperated.

Maybe I just want to get away from you.

I forced a neutral tone. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend on campus. Uh ... you know how I am.”

Dad shook his head. “Yeah, right. Guess what? You can’t be running around afraid of everything your whole life...”

“I...”

“Less than two years from now, and you won’t have Daddy paying your bills.”

“I know.”

“And that also means if some girl does manage to charm your pants off one day, I can’t have you bringing home any ‘mistakes.’ Finish school, get a real job, get married, have kids. In that order! Kapeesh?”

Shit, I need condoms.

I nodded and replied softly, “Yes sir, I know.”

He frowned, looking me over for several seconds before putting down his magazine. “I’m going to bed. I have work in the morning. You two have fun.”

The game was over by one a.m.—quick for a West Coast start—though the Dodgers walked it off in the ninth. At least the Pirates still had a three-game lead.

The next morning, I slurped down a bowl of Cap’n Crunch and was out the door by ten. That gave me two and a half hours to run errands before class.

First stop was the bank.

I knew I’d be spending most of the money in one place, so I asked, “Can I have two hundreds?”

I hadn’t meant to sound so sheepish, but I rarely handled anything over a twenty. So much money—and it would be gone so fast.

Two blocks from the bank, I spotted the Sheetz and remembered: Next time. Condoms.

I had seen the dispensers in the men’s room plenty of times, but they were always just an object of curiosity.

Grabbing two bottles of Mello Yello from the cooler, I headed to the register. The young woman at the counter smiled. “Anything else?”

I fiddled with my change and handed her a couple of bills. “Uh, yeah ... can I have two dollars’ worth of quarters?”

Her fingers brushed my palm as she passed me the coins. My face felt warm.

I wonder if she figured out what you’re buying?

I headed to the back of the store.

Fifty cents each. Regular—or ribbed, for her pleasure. I spent a moment glancing between the options.

The bathroom door opened, and a middle-aged man walked in.

Just do it!

I dropped two quarters in the slot on the left and turned the handle, dispensing one foil-wrapped ring of regular latex. Then I repeated the process.

Try ‘em all.

Two more quarters for the ribbed option. Then again.

I wedged one into the inside pocket of my wallet. The other three went into the glove box as soon as I got to the car.

What am I gonna say if Mom or Dad finds them?

Well, he was the one who warned you not to have any mistakes.

It was still only eleven when I found a parking spot on campus, giving me an hour and a half before class. I made my way down to the library’s basement level, where the bookstore posted class lists and prices on sheets taped to the walls.

Inside, I walked the aisles, collecting my books.

I frowned at the first one. Computational Linear Algebra, Second Edition. Twenty-nine fucking dollars.

I cradled it in my arm and kept going.

Minutes later, I stacked the last book on the counter. The cashier rang them up.

“One hundred thirty-three dollars and forty-two cents.”

Puta madre.

Michelle smelled so nice, and her breasts were way up, firm and high. The stimulation made me even more anxious to see Hannah.

Dr. Foster droned on, illustrating matrix multiplication on the blackboard. I glanced at my watch. Twenty more minutes.

“Class dismissed. Do the exercises at the end of chapter one for Friday.”

Matt called out, “Hey Joe, wait up!” as I bolted for the door.

“Sorry, gotta run. I’m meeting Hannah for lunch.”

“Oh, I guess three’s a crowd, then.”

“Yep, catch you later.”

Twenty minutes.

I fast-walked to the parking lot and, upon reaching my car, swapped my books for the Sheetz bag I had left in the trunk an hour earlier.

I sat at one of two picnic tables nestled inside a patch of trees near the main entrance drive, facing the high school. The commuter lot was behind me, a classroom building to my left. I checked my watch. Almost a quarter ‘til.

Fiddling with the paper sack, I waited. A minute later, movement caught my eye as she crossed the street.

I jumped up, waving my arms. “Hannah! Over here!”

She smiled, enthusiastically waving back as I made my way toward her. Reaching her, I pulled her into a hug and pressed my lips to hers.

When I let go, she laughed softly. “Wow, I missed you too!”

“Well—I haven’t seen you since, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” she smirked.

“So, how are you?”

She placed a hand on my chest. “Very good, thank you. So, what did you get me for lunch?”

I took her hand and led her back to the table. As I unpacked the bag, I listed off the contents. “Chipped ham sandwich with American cheese and mustard—made it myself. For dessert, a pumpkin gob, fresh from Sheetz. And I hope you like Pepsi.”

She surveyed the spread, then looked up at me with a teasing smile. “My, aren’t we romantic!”

I grinned. “So how was your day?”

“Oh my God, let me tell you about Mrs. Yoder...”

Between bites, she continued, rattling off details about her classes and teachers before switching topics. “ ... and there’s this junior on the cross-country team who won’t keep his eyes off me.”

I snapped back to attention, realizing I had been staring at the trees. She tilted her head. “Hey, Joe, something wrong?”

I hesitated. “Been thinking this week—I’m going to drop Math. Switch majors.”

Her brow furrowed. “What? You’re just giving up when things get tough?”

“No! You know my grades. I’m just not getting anywhere. I got to class this week and saw it won’t get any better, no matter how hard I try. Math isn’t really what I want to do.”

“Then what is? I thought you were the numbers guy.”

I took a swig of Pepsi and leaned back. “I thought so. I love working with numbers, but not just for the sake of numbers themselves. It’s the data—gathering it, organizing it, analyzing it. Math is a tool I want to know how to use, but I don’t need to prove why it works.”

She studied me for a moment, then nodded. “At least you sound passionate about it. So, what else can you take?”

“I’m going to see my adviser about switching to Econ. I’ve already taken several classes. It’s real-world stuff—studying trends, predicting what happens next. I love answering questions, doing research. At least my Database and Survey classes fit into that.”

She tapped her chin. “How about intelligence?”

“Like what?”

“Like the C.I.A.”

“You want me to be a spy?”

“No, silly! They have analysts who try to figure out what’s going on, answer all the big questions. You’re the nerd—you’d probably fit right in.”

I smiled, nodding. “Hmm. That actually sounds like a plan.” I stuffed the last piece of sandwich into my mouth.

Hannah gestured toward my watch. “What time is it?”

“Ten past.”

“I better start heading back.”

I chugged the rest of my Mello Yello and tossed the empty can in my bag. Reaching for her trash, I asked, “You done with this?”

After a quick stop at the trash can, we unwrapped our gobs, walking hand in hand down the asphalt path past the girls’ dorms.

I turned to her. “So, what do you want to be?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“What? All that, and you don’t know what you want to do?”

“It’s not like I’m ready to finish school yet. I think I’d like to help people. Teacher? Nurse?”

“They’ve got stuff here like physical therapy. I know a couple of girls taking that.”

“Okay, something to think about.”

She popped the last bite of her gob into her mouth, wiping her fingers. “Will I see you before Saturday?”

“I don’t know. When’s your first meet?”

“Next Tuesday—here at home.”

“Well, I’ll call you to tell you what happens with my adviser ... and with my parents.”

We kissed, and as she crossed the street, heading back to the junior high, she glanced over her shoulder and waved.

My chest tightened with anxiety. I took a deep breath, then tapped on the half-open door.

A voice from the other side called out, “Come in.”