Chapter 21

“I get why we need to go as a couple. That way, I would be her official defender. Any move against her would be a direct insult to me.”
—Nicholas Metelsky, Changing Masks

I STOOD IN FRONT of the bathroom mirror and carefully shaved the fuzz off my upper lip. V1 had never had long hair. By the time he died, he’d lost almost all of it. I looked at my hairline and decided I was going to enjoy my hair for as long as it lasted this time. I’d had a crewcut through most of my V1 life and wasn’t going to repeat that.

I finally got dressed and stood around in my bedroom trying to figure out what I should do next. It was still an hour before time to leave.

Fuck! I haven’t been on a date in thirty years. And it was V3’s first date ever. Of course I was nervous! I was pacing around like an expectant father. I spotted the guitar in the corner of the room and grabbed it. I had no idea how to play it but strummed anyway. It sounded terrible and I started turning the tuning pegs until they sounded right. My strum was a little less discordant this time but still had nothing about it that was musical. I sighed and my head dropped as I closed my eyes.

Notes started to come out of the guitar. Chords. Melodies. I remembered a voice sometime in the past telling me, “The second place memory resides is in neural pathways outside the brain. We call that muscle memory, though that isn’t really it. Everything originates in the brain, but some of the pathways that control muscle movement are more ingrained than the memories of events. It’s what you’ve trained your body to do.” I couldn’t remember learning to play the guitar but I could remember playing. My fingers moved of their own accord. Until I started thinking about what I was doing. Then I fumbled to a stop. My fingers were sore.

“That was beautiful, J,” Em said from the doorway. “I was afraid you weren’t going to play again.”

“I just forgot,” I said. I turned to look at her and forgot everything else. “My God, you’re beautiful.” I stood and laid the guitar on my bed. “You’re beautiful,” I repeated as I took her hand. She spun around to show me the back as well. In V1’s day we called it the LBD—Little Black Dress. I’d never seen one look so stunning. It had a choker collar with a mesh front that met the opaque black bodice, showing just enough of the top of Em’s breasts through the mesh to make my mouth water. It was cinched tight at the waist and fell in a full skirt to about mid-thigh. She had a silver bracelet and matching earrings on and high heels that made her almost tall enough to look me straight in the eye. The mile of leg between the hem of her skirt and the ankle strap of her shoe made me want to start kissing at her toes and work my way up to heaven.

“Hey, you clean up pretty good yourself,” she laughed. “Isn’t it time for you to go pick up your dates?”

“I’m only picking up one,” I explained. “Rachel and Joan are meeting us at the dance. Um ... you and your dates are welcome to sit at our table if you want. I suppose you’ll be with the upper classmen, though.”

“We’ll hang out a while. I promise,” she said. “The Winter Dance isn’t nearly as cliquey as something like prom. Don’t be surprised if other guys want to dance with your dates. There’s a lot of mixing at this dance.”

“I’m glad I have your experience to guide me. Maybe if your dates want to drag a couple of mine out on the dancefloor, I’ll get one with you.”

“Mmm. Play your cards right and ... you know.”

I wasn’t sure I was interpreting her correctly but I hoped.

“Beca! You ... You’re ... You’ve got ... Wow! You are beautiful,” I stammered when she came down the hall. Her mother had met me at the door when I knocked and showed me into the living room. Their house was smaller than ours, but it was for just the two of them. I’d met Mrs. Brown when she picked up Beca after study on Sunday and came in to meet my parents. She was very nice and very petite. I could see where Rebeca got her size if not her good looks. But when Beca came into the room, the world stopped spinning.

“Thank you,” she whispered. I held out my hand and she took it so I could slip the pink orchid wrist corsage on the way the florist had shown me. It complemented her dark blue dress beautifully. I’d almost call the dress ‘demure.’ I’d never seen Beca in anything but jeans and flannel shirts. What was exposed was pretty. The dress had a lacy back and straps that connected to a scoop neckline and bodice that fit snugly around small but shapely breasts. The skirt was in two layers with a solid satin underlayer covered by the same lacy material as the back and straps. It fell to her knees. She wore heels, but unlike Em’s, they were only an inch or so high. Nonetheless, they showed off lovely calves. Her hair was twisted in a braid over her right ear and fell loosely over her left shoulder. She was just so sweet I wanted to hold her in my arms.

Mrs. Brown called my mom in out of the car where she’d waited and the two moms took pictures and cooed over us. I think most of the pictures would be overwhelmed by our red faces. Then we headed for the car. I’d barely ever touched Beca in the past two months but now she held my hand all the way to school.

“Is it okay?” she whispered.

“Seriously? Beca, you’ll be the star of the ball. You’re beautiful.”

“I haven’t worn a dress in ... a long time.”

“Really?”

“My legs feel funny. I had to shave. Everything. My pits feel cold.”

“You just grew up,” I whispered. “Tonight is your coming out party.”

“I’m just glad Rachel and Joan will be with us,” she sighed.

Rachel was waiting for us right inside the door and squealed when she saw how cute Beca looked. The two girls embraced and then Rachel gave me a kiss on the cheek as I snapped her wrist corsage on.

“Was I supposed to kiss him?” Beca asked, shocked.

“Oh, don’t rush it, Beca,” Rachel answered. “I’ll only see him at the dance. You can kiss him goodnight at the door.” If anything, Beca blushed harder than ever. “Look at this corsage! Peacock feathers and a jewel that almost matches the center clasp on my dress.” The dress in question was considerably more daring than Beca’s and the kiss had started a rise in my trousers. Thankfully, it was hidden by my jacket. The jewel she was referring to was located in the cleavage of her nicely displayed full breasts. Tiny straps went over her shoulders leaving half her back bare. The skirt was in keeping with the skirts I’d grown used to seeing on her. Short. It fell from the bodice in multiple full layers.

We found a table and the girls immediately left to ‘touch up their makeup’ in the ladies’ room. I sat with both hands on my cane looking around the room. I remembered to sit up straight and not slouch. I saw several people I recognized but didn’t see Em, Tony, and Bill yet. The music had started and I was glad it wasn’t too loud. I’d seen pictures of clubs where the dancefloor was packed and people were just jumping up and down. This was more like the high school dances I remembered. We called them sock hops. But the dance was in the multi-purpose room where we ate lunch and had assemblies rather than the gym. The floor was linoleum, so shoes were acceptable. The DJ was on the stage and kept the music flowing with no breaks between songs.

“Jacob? You look, um ... striking, I guess. Aren’t we supposed to have company?”

I turned to find Joan standing next to me. Hmm. I wondered if Beca was going to find this dress too slutty.

“They went to the restroom to touch up their makeup,” I said. “Must have been a line. You look lovely, Joan. Please join me so I don’t look like a loser wall flower or something.” She sat on the edge of the chair next to me with her back straight and shoulders back. It thrust out her prominent display of breasts. Joan wore a strapless red dress with an acre of décolletage. The bodice made a heart shape as it wrapped around her breasts. It had a sparkly wide belt and the taffeta layers of the skirt fell far short of mid-thigh. I asked for her hand and presented the freesia corsage I had for her. The flowers were white but the tips were tinted blood red.

“You ... got me a flower?” she stuttered. “But I’m just, like, hanging out. I’m not your date really. Why would you get me such a beautiful flower, Jacob? I’m just a tease and the school slut.”

“Joan, stop that. When you joined our table and were invited to join us tonight, you became our date. We’re all four here together ... as soon as the other two get here.”

“But that’s so sweet. I never expected...” A tear sparkled in her eye and I quickly reached for my handkerchief to stop it from spilling.

“Don’t cry, Joan,” Beca snapped from behind me. “You’ll ruin your makeup. Now come here and let me see you.” Joan stood quickly and stepped behind me to face Beca. Rachel reached for my hand.

“Come on, Jacob. This is going to take a while. Let’s dance.” She led me to the dancefloor and we started moving to the music. I was glad I had the cane to stabilize me. The DJ had been playing a good mix of fast and slow numbers and switched to a slower song. As soon as it started, Rachel was in my arms and my cock was rising to meet her. Damn! She just fired my jets. And because I could see her as I remembered her in the fifties, I didn’t feel the least bit guilty about wanting to have sex with her.