Chapter 34

Derek’s turn:

This is trouble. Wonderful, happy, delightful, ecstatically wonderful. But trouble.

I knew what was going to happen when Rachel called me to help her feed Dana’s cat.

Empty apartment except for me and Rachel and the cat, and the cat gets petted while I’m sitting next to Rachel and the cat leaves and Rachel turns to me.

I like kissing her. I like holding her. We talk about everything. Tara says we’re too young to have a past, but I’ve lived through a car wreck and the loss of Mom and Dad and the marriage of my big sister to a guy who’s worthy of the steps he’s taking to be like a father to me. So yes, there’s that.

There’s school. Bachelor’s in engineering in a few months. I’ll graduate in the spring. Rachel’s beaten me there. I am having fun while being quite productive in robotics.

And ever since I laid eyes on her, I have been in love with Rachel.

I understand that lots of boys my age fall in and out of love, get love confused with lust, all kinds of confusing things.

I’m not any of those.

It’s been two years since we met. I haven’t even harbored a thought of other girls, real or imaginary. Real? First, we got Vicki, who’s a year younger. Now we have Mandy, same age as Vicki. Mandy’s even a redhead, which, according to certain actions around here, is magical.

But no. Gotta be Rachel.

It’s not hormones. Really. We’re co-workers, fellow students, we fly together, we read books and talk about them, sometimes just us, sometimes with others, because we have a great English teacher, Mizz Lee, and we have a literate community here.

But there are OTHER good things.

First kiss ... I mean, past that ‘give your little friend a kiss’ thing that moms do to their kids. First kiss because ‘here’s this wonderfully exciting person and she’s attractive and it would be nice to kiss her’ kiss. Electrifying.

Rachel and I sort of learned to kiss together. I’m sure she talked with others. I’d heard talk of ‘French kissing’ from other males my age. Didn’t sound like a big deal even though they made it sound like a big deal.

It’s a Big Deal.

She’s the only girl I’ve kissed. We vowed that there would be no others.

We sort of announced to the community that we were going to be married. Rachel’s parents had a bit of issue with this, since it happened when we – Rachel and I – had just gone through bar mitzvah and bat mitzvah – tradition among us Jews to say that now we accept a place among adults and the responsibilities that go with it.

We’re being watched. Of course, our announcement was on the table along with the whole Terri ‘n’ Jerry thing, and they were announced as ‘engaged’.

Rachel and I said the same thing.

Neither couple was allowed nor expected to have any private time other than occasional and short sessions out of the public eye.

At first Rache and me – we didn’t push it.

But kissing is FUN. We started catching a few moments every chance we could get.

Well, you know that kissing begets hugging. Begets it pretty fast, actually. We found that hugging starts out kind of just, you know, hugging. Then it gets more serious.

I think that the first time I hugged Rachel standing up I got a hard on. Yes, we have noble intentions, but as Aaron explained to me -- doing his job as adult male role model and step-dad – our bodies sometimes react contrary to those intentions.

I know that Rachel felt it, because when we stopped hugging, she stepped back and glanced down, then looked at me with that little smile she does for me when she’s happy about something. Then she stepped up for another hug and kiss.

Got to where we hugged a lot and she tried to get as close to me as she could.

“Why does it get like that?” she asked me.

“Things just happen,” I told her. “It feels good. You make me feel really good.”

One day we were cuddling and... “Derek. Your hand...”

I realized where my hand was, molded on the crotch of her jeans.

I jerked my hand back. “I’m sorry. Kinda wasn’t paying attention.”

I steeled myself for her to be upset. Wrong.

“I really started paying attention. I touch myself sometimes.” She giggled. “Uh, sometimes a lot...”

I admitted that I did so as well.

“We never talk about this stuff. We just sorta hug and cuddle and kiss. Feels good to me. Sometimes YOU act like you’re almost paralyzed.”

Yeah, I have learned the joys of masturbating and I was pretty good at it. But sometimes, hugging and cuddling and kissing is just too much.

“You mean you DO it?!?” she asked incredulously.

“Rache, you make me feel too good.”

“I feel good, too, but not THAT good...”

“I guess guys’re different,” I said.

One more good kiss, then we reappeared in public.

Next time we were able to get alone, she touched that lump in my pants.

“Rache, you’re guaranteeing I’m gonna mess up my pants.” And I reached for hers. We twisted around, learning how we could keep kissing and keep rubbing, and she unbuttoned her jeans.

First time I ever touched her. Any girl, actually. Hot. Wet.

“Gentle,” she whispered. “Just let a finger find ... Oh, yeah ... right there. Gentle.” We were kissing when I noticed her getting really wet and moving a little against my fingertip. Then SHE went rigid. I know what that means. I held onto her, kissed her.

Her eyes opened with tears in them.

“Did I hurt you, Rachel? I didn’t mean...”

“No,” she told me, almost sobbing. “This is the way we’re supposed to be. First everything, together. You’re the only one besides ME that made me do that.”

“You’re the only one to make me do that, Rache...”

“I wanna touch yours...”

“Uh, we don’t have much time.”

She looked at me with those eyes. “Just a minute, okay. I love you...” and she kissed me.

I unbuckled my belt, opened my jeans. Her hand went in. Touched, and...

“Oh, gosh! You’re doin’ it...”

I was speechless for a period of time. Then, “Making you do it, that had me right there...”

She smiled. “First times. That’s us...”

We kissed, rearranged ourselves and went back out into the public view.

You know that was the next level, right?

We both looked for opportunities. I think that Rachel’s a little more adventurous, but we found privacy for a few minutes every other day or so. One day Rachel headed off. I waited for a bit, then tried to act nonchalant as I followed.

Noticed Cindy watching me. Smiling.

Maybe we’re not as subtle as we think we are.

And we didn’t get to go that far every time. Sometimes a few kisses and hugs and touches to those parts that made us feel so good, that’s what we settled for.

Terri and Jerry got married. That means that ONE fourteen-year-old girl is having full-blown sex. They’re on their honeymoon.

Rachel goes to her place. I go to mine.

Then both Dana and Ed were out of town. Normally, Rachel and Terri go take care of Dana’s cat.

No Terri.

I really (HONESTLY!) didn’t give that any thought until...

A message from Rachel. “Where are you?”

“Just leaving the apartment. Why?”

“Gotta take care of Dana’s cat. Come meet me.”

We’re not talking about the closet or around the corner or in the supply room or any of a dozen other little escapes we’ve used. This is an apartment. And when Terri and Rachel go to take care of the cat, in addition to the necessities of food and water and litterbox, they sit there and play with the cat and talk.

That adds a time element. I know that Rachel told her mom she was going to take care of the cat.

By the time I got there, the feed and the water and the litterbox were complete. She was sitting there petting the big ol’ cat when I walked in.

I’m not one of his regulars, so when I sat down beside her on the floor, he took off. She turned to me with a big smile.

“We have the place to ourselves, and we have a lot of time and why aren’t you kissing me?”

“Uh, love, I ... this is dangerous...”

“How?”

“I dunno about my self-control...”

“Would you ever do something I don’t want you to do?”

“Well, no...”

“Then it’s not dangerous.”

And she kissed me and tugged me down to lie on the floor beside her. ALMOST beside her, because she was halfway on top of me, and with about the third kiss, all those things I had about self-restraint and all that, that stuff disappeared, somewhere behind those blue eyes and that curled brown hair, somewhere off where it didn’t matter at all.

Hard? Yes, very much.

As reported. Smile from Rachel and, “You’re very hard.”

“Rachel...” I started to protest, but even as I did my hand was reaching to cup her...

“Heyyyy ... You’re unbuttoned.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Yeah. And you’re not...”

“Rache...”

You can’t protest when you’re getting kissed and ninety-nine percent of you WANTS to just keep going.

Her fingers were fumbling with my belt.

“I’ll get it,” I said, rolling away from her. I got them unbuttoned and opened and...

“I finally get to SEE it...”

I’m lost. I know I’m lost. And I’m happy I’m lost. Consequences? Consequences are in the future. This is now and her fingers are touching me in the place that I really want her to touch and then I feel the air touching the skin of my...