Honey Bee - F
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2019 by Uther Pendragon

“You’re going to have a birthday party without me?” Sandy Jackson asked her sister.

“You wouldn’t like it anyhow,” Barbara said. “It’s going to be couples only.”

“Mommy!”

When the entire situation was explained by each of them, Barb didn’t mention couples. “I’m only inviting kids from my class,” she said.

“Well,” Mom said, “if you can’t have a party where your sister would be welcome, maybe you shouldn’t have a party at all.”

Barb pouted and argued, but Sandy was invited to the party. Linda, Barb’s new best friend, brought her brother to match Sandy. Craig was in high school already, but eighth and ninth grade seemed alike to the eleventh graders.

Sandy wouldn’t have admitted it for the world, but she was uncomfortable at the party. The kids were mostly the same as Barb had invited the year before, Linda, Larry, and Craig being new. They held the party in their basement as they had the year before, and there was cake, cookies, and Kool Aid. The behavior, however, was much different -- almost no games. Mostly the kids danced; the record player had a stack of 45s on it all night. The dances were almost all slow ones, and the kids never switched partners.

Craig was nice, a lot nicer than Sandy would have expected considering why he was there. Still, they hadn’t met before that night, and all the other couples were either going steady or were as close to that as the parents would allow. She and Craig danced whenever a fast dance came on, but they sat and talked and munched a lot.

“I like the way your sister is wearing her hair now,” she said. Linda and Barbara were about the only subjects that she and Craig had in common.

“You do?” Craig asked. Really, she did. She wished that she could look like Jackie. “Every girl is wearing her hair like Mrs. Kennedy these days, even one of my teachers. Linda looks more like her than she does like Jackie.”

The latest Cameron hit, Honey Bee dropped to the bottom of the stack. Sandy liked that song. “Come on,” Craig said. “There’s nothing to it. Try dancing to this one. I’ll have to go soon; I promised Linda.”

She couldn’t ask him to sit and talk with her forever. She got up and moved out to where there was space. He took her left hand in his right and put his other hand on her waist; she tried to move to his guidance.

“Other bees have buzzed around my hive,
But none till you made me feel alive,”
sang Peggy Cameron.

“Honey, I want you to be, be, be
My honey bee,”
sang her sisters.

Slow dancing wasn’t suddenly easier, but dancing in Craig’s arms was pleasant. When the song ended, Craig asked, “Want to walk me out?”

He went over to say goodbye to Barb. Aside from greeting people and opening presents, she’d spent the evening dancing with Tom. From the top of the stairs, Sandy glanced back. The two were dancing again, and Tom’s hand was on Barb’s seat.

“Good night, Mrs. Jackson,” Craig said in the kitchen. “Nice party. Thanks for having me.” Sandy went out the kitchen door with him.

“This really has been fun,” he said. “Much more fun than I expected.” Those were her thoughts, too. The party would have been awful if he hadn’t been there. She was trying to think of some way to say that when he pulled her close.

His kiss surprised her. It wasn’t her first, but it was the first which hadn’t been part of spin-the-bottle or from a relative. Again, it was more pleasant than she would have expected. “Goodbye, Sandy,” he said. “Thanks for making this a fun evening.”

She stayed outside while she could see him. When she went inside, she headed toward her room. She didn’t want to be alone among the crowd in the basement. She shouldn’t think too much of the kiss, she decided. Craig was in high school, and kids in high school seemed to kiss a lot.

Still, she did think about it -- that night and on later days. She also brooded because she didn’t hear from Craig again. Even Linda didn’t mention him when she came over to see Barbara.

If she did run into Craig again, though, she would have to know how to dance. She nagged Barb into lessons. Nagging wasn’t that hard; Barb enjoyed dancing, and when she was teaching her sister to dance, their parents couldn’t complain about the music. Dancing in her arms wasn’t at all as much fun as dancing in Craig’s had been, but she probably learned more. And Barb knew who she was; there was no evidence that Craig did.

Her mom took her to the department store and bought her some real bras. She wasn’t in a training bra anymore.


The school year ended; she graduated. That fall, she was in high school! It was so much bigger than she was used to, and the other kids were so much bigger, too. She walked down the halls not looking; she wanted to seem as blasé’ and used to the size as the seniors (like Barb) were.

Then she heard a boy call her name. “Sandy?” Was he calling someone else? There were a lot of Sandys in the school. No, he was looking right at her, and it was Craig!

“I’m Craig. Linda’s brother. We met at your sister’s birthday party.”

“Of course.” How could he think she would forget? He had been her first real kiss.

They were going in opposite directions, so they could only talk for one second. He passed her in the hall when she was going from algebra to biology every day after that and had a greeting every time they passed.

After a few weeks, he left the school by the same entrance she used. That was a little odd; she never saw Linda there. But they talked a bit. She told him what her class schedule was. He’d had two of her teachers the year before, and they both had Mrs. Thomas for English.

Then one Friday afternoon, he called. “You know there is a sock hop a week from tonight?” She did; the whole school knew that there were dances every other Friday. “Would you like to go with me?”

She managed to say ‘yes’ without saying ‘whoopee.’

That night at dinner, however, she couldn’t restrain herself. “Do you have an invitation to the dance next Friday?” she asked Barb.

“Tom will ask me in school.” Tom usually asked on a Wednesday, which their mom didn’t think was polite.

“Well, I do. Craig called me up to invite me.”

“And,” asked her mom in her most threatening tone of voice, “did you tell him you had to ask permission?”

“I think you are too young to date,” put in her dad. He thought she was too young to do anything fun.

“Barb gets to go out on dates with Tom.”

“I didn’t before I turned fifteen.” Always the helpful sister!

“Oh, mom!” Dad was a lost cause.

“You’ll have to tell him that you can’t accept dates.”

She didn’t call until Sunday. She wheedled again and again, but it didn’t do any good.

“Will you be at the dance?” Craig asked.

“I think so. I don’t want to ask just now. I’ve been pushing too hard on this one.” At that, she wished she could take her words back. She didn’t want him to know what the invitation had meant to her -- how much he meant to her. On the other hand, she certainly didn’t want to imply that he was unimportant.

“Well, that might be for the best.”

She did go. Barb had been allowed to go to dances when she was a freshman, and her mom was in a better mood when Sandy asked her.

“You made it,” Craig greeted her. He talked to her while “Ghost Car” was playing and asked her for a dance when the next song was fast.

Honey Bee was the next tune. “You can do this one,” Craig said. “Want to try?” She could do them all, now.

They danced together. His lead got less firm throughout the song, but it was still firmer than Barb had been using for months.

“See!” he said. “You’re a good dancer when you decide to let go.”

They danced the next two dances together, and he got her some punch. She decided that telling him about the lessons would be a mistake. Let him think that his lead was enough.

He went away after a while; she wasn’t his date after all. She talked with some of the other girls, danced (without a partner) two of the fast dances. Craig came back for the last dance. It was Blue Velvet, and it had never sounded so pretty as it did when she was in Craig’s arms.

Her dad came to pick them up at the end of the dance. “Tom could have driven me home,” Barb said. “He’s done it loads of times.”

“I had to pick up Sandy, anyway,” he said. “This was no problem.” Barb looked daggers at her.

One day, Craig was talking with a girl when he went past in the hall. He waved but didn’t say anything.

The dances were every other Friday night. At the next one, they got there late; her dad had decided to stop in for gas on the way and then gossiped with the station attendant. Craig was dancing when she saw him, but he came over after that dance. She figured that she was in no position to say anything, since she couldn’t be his date. They danced together for a while, and he got her another glass of punch. Again, he left her to talk with his friends; again, he came back for the last dance.

At the dance after that, she danced the first two dances with Craig. Then he went off to ask one of the other girls. Charlie Delray, who was in her history class, asked her to dance. He held her close, closer than Craig did, but it was less fun. Craig did return for the last dance, though.

This went on until her birthday came around. She couldn’t have an all-girl party, not if she wanted to invite Craig. She invited as many boys as girls, but many of the boys declined. She thought about inviting Charlie; he was in one of her classes and seemed interested in her. But he seemed to be one of the bad boys. She decided not to. Two of the boys who had accepted didn’t show up.

Craig came. Tom came with Barb, though they both left soon. All the rest were ninth graders. The slow dancing wasn’t much of a success, and she put mostly rock records on the stack. She couldn’t spend as much time dancing with Craig as she wanted, anyhow. She was both the birthday girl and the hostess. This time, Craig was the last one to leave. “I had a great time,” he said. She walked him out the door again. He kissed her outside!

This felt wonderful. She melted into his arms. He stepped back, but then he supported her. “I owe you fourteen more,” he said. She was willing, but her mom would come out in a minute.

“So,” he said, “you’re fifteen now. Will your mom and dad let you go on dates?”

“They ought to! Still, I haven’t asked them.”

“Well, you know how to get their agreement. Asking too soon might not be the best way.”

After school on Monday, they talked about the party. He didn’t mention the idea of dating. That night, though, he called her up. “They are showing West Side Story at Taylor’s Cinema on Friday. Would you go with me?” He sounded awfully stiff, as if he had rehearsed it.

“I’ll have to ask my mom.”

“I’ll hold the phone if you want to do it now.”

She asked. “I am fifteen now. You said, ‘not until you’re fifteen.’”

“You’ve been fifteen for six days. This is rushing it.”

“The movie is on Friday. I’ll have been fifteen for ten days then. Come on! You said fifteen. Plenty of girls in my class have been dating for years.”

“Well, I’ll talk with him.”

Having heard that Craig’s mom would be doing the driving, she agreed. Sandy got back on the phone. “She said ‘yes.’ What time do you want to get here?”

Her mom might have been negative about the date, but she was a real help once she had decided to permit it. She gave Sandy some of her bath salts, so she would smell pretty on her first date. Even Barb helped her dress. The dress had thin blue stripes. Sandy thought it made her look too young, but she wasn’t about to tell her mom that.

At six o’clock, Craig rang the doorbell. Her dad and mom were there to talk to him. Her dad laid out the ground rules, not that there was any need for ground rules. They were going to get back soon after the end of the show, anyway. Craig’s mom wasn’t about to drive them to some make-out spot.

His mom had waited in the car. Craig opened the back door for her and walked around to get in beside her on the other side.

“Mom,” Craig said, “this is Sandra Jackson. Sandy, my mom.” He was obviously on his best behavior.

“Hello, Mrs. Schmidt,” Sandy said.

“Hello Sandra,” said Mrs. Schmidt. “You look delightful in that dress.” The car was an ordinary Chrysler sedan. The back seat could have held four in a tight squeeze. She and Craig sat on opposite sides with a mile between them.

At the theater, Craig bought a box of popcorn and shared it with her. His mom sat in the row behind them. The movie was good, though; and Natalie Wood was wonderful. When they got to Sandy’s house, Craig said, “Wait here.” He got out and went around to help her out.

When he’d walked her to the door, she stood on the porch and he stood on the top step. “Thank you for coming,” he said.

“Thank you for asking me. I had a wonderful time.”

He kissed her there. It was a little funny with his head lower than hers. He took less time than he had before, but then his mom was watching. Probably so was hers. When the door opened, he turned and walked back to the car.

“Did you enjoy the movie?” her mom asked.

“It was great.” And it had been. Movies definitely looked better with Craig sitting beside her.

Craig invited her to the next school dance, too. His dad drove them there and home, but -- at least -- there wasn’t that constant presence behind them.

He kissed her at the door again. When she saw her dad watching TV when she went in, she thought he would object to that. Maybe he had noticed, but that wasn’t what was on his mind. “Enjoy yourself?” he asked.

She had and said so.

“Same boy who took you out to the movies, wasn’t it?” Considering the third degree he had given Craig before the movie, that was a silly question. “You do dance with other boys when you’re there, don’t you?”

Well, she hadn’t. “He was my date, after all. He took me to the dance.”

“Ruth!” he called. He turned off the set while her mom was coming down.

The two of them were totally unreasonable. “It’s fine you like Craig, darling,” her mom said. They weren’t treating her like a darling; they were treating her like a prisoner on a chain gang. “But you are much too young to settle on one boy. We want you to have fun, participate in the fun of high school.” That her mom thought fun was any part of high school showed how out of it she was -- both of them were.

Barbara was no help either. How long had it been since she had danced with any boy except Tom? But Sandy didn’t ask that. Barb would have killed her if she had mentioned it.

They made Craig come in and talk to them before the next dance. They set down even more rules. She and -- of course -- he would accept dances with other partners. She might be his date, but she wasn’t his steady.

He did ask another girl to dance that night, and Charlie asked her to dance when they had Rock Around the Clock on. It was an old song, probably chosen by a teacher. Charlie did it well, however. And she -- if only in her own opinion -- danced well in front of him.

“Really, you know,” Craig said to her Monday after school, “I’m not saying that I enjoyed seeing you dance with that sleaze. Still, I don’t mind your parents making that rule. It’s different from your deciding it.”

He took her to see The Guns of Navarone. She was more interested in the boy sitting beside her than in all the explosions happening on the screen. “Wasn’t that a great picture?” Craig asked her after school on Monday. She agreed, but her insincerity must have been obvious. “What do you think is the best movie of all time?” he asked.

That question was easy. “ Three Coins in the Fountain.

They talked after school every day now. Sometimes it was about what they had done; other times it was questions like that.

And sometimes he called her just to talk. His parents bound him to the same rules as Linda, and she sometimes heard his mom call “Time!” Then he apologized and hung up.

The Monday after Christmas, Craig had a package in his hand when he greeted her. “Here.” It was a Christmas present!

“I didn’t get you anything.” And the way her allowance was tied up, she couldn’t get him anything for weeks.

“I didn’t get it for you because I wanted you to give me something. I got it for you because I like you.” That was sweet of him to say. The gift was a small locket. She wore it to school the next day, though nobody could see it under her blouse.

He took her to the first dance of the new year. Again, they danced with others, but he expected the first and last dance -- others, but especially those two. She went looking for him when they started to play Honey Bee. She regarded this as their song.

One day, Craig’s father drove them to the movies. “I’ll be back at 8:30,” he said. “Be right here. Don’t make me look for you.” They went in by themselves. At first, Craig behaved as he always did. After the main feature came on, though, he reached over and took her hand in his. She couldn’t concentrate on the picture, although Craig seemed to. All she could feel was his hand holding hers. That night, his kiss was extra thrilling. It wasn’t anything he did; he seemed more nervous of his dad than he did of his mom. Instead, it was a kiss from a boy who had been holding her hand all night in the dark.

With a sophomore interested in her, Sandy was more popular with her classmates. Maybe there was another reason, but she couldn’t see it.

At the next dance, Charlie asked her again. The song was Can’t Help Falling in Love. He held her tight against him. She noticed that something was prodding into her belly. It wasn’t his belt buckle.

The next week in algebra class, a boy was at the board solving a problem. Everybody started giggling. When Sandy looked, his zipper was sticking out. The kid had a stiffie. When the teacher let him sit down and the incident was over, Sandy knew what part of Charlie had been sticking into her. How gross!!

On their way out of school one Tuesday, Craig handed her an envelope. He hurried off, leaving her feeling a little hurt. When she opened the envelope, though, it was a valentine. Of course, the next day was Valentine’s day. Her friends exclaimed over the card, and she walked to a store on the way -- well, far out of the way -- home to buy him one. The next day, Craig walked her the usual block before their paths parted. She handed him her card just before he turned. He hurried on before opening it. Her friends, all of whom had seen the card, giggled.

Craig invited her to his birthday party. At her mom’s suggestion, she bought him a necktie. There were more boys than girls there; either his mom or his dad was always present; there were more games and less dancing than Sandy would have liked. Still, she got to dance with Craig once, and the event was fun.

The Schmidts had actually bought stuff for their basement rather than simply sticking old furniture down there, like her parents had. There was even a bar with a mirror behind it, not that anyone in the party used it for more than a place to set down their Cokes.

Craig got a driver’s license. He was quite excited, and so was she. She could remember, though, all the hassle her mom and dad had given Barb over going off with Tom when he had first got his license.

Sandy and all her friends gathered at Sue’s house one day. Sue’s mom served Kool Aid and left them while she did the laundry downstairs. Since she was down there, they couldn’t play any loud records. Linda -- not Barb’s friend, one of Sandy’s classmates with that name -- mentioned a boy’s poking her during a dance. Apparently, Sandy wasn’t the only girl with that problem. She kept her mouth closed and listened. Mary, who babysat and was their expert on male anatomy, filled them in.

“They pee though that?”

“And when a husband and wife want to make a baby,” Mary told them, “he pees in her. I think it’s gross.” They all agreed that it was gross.

Then they heard Sue’s mom coming up the stairs. “Did you hear that the Cameron Sisters are breaking up?” Carol asked suddenly. Some said they had heard that; Sandy couldn’t believe it.

For a miracle, her mom and dad didn’t make a fuss when Craig wanted to drive her to the next dance. Maybe Barb had worn them down; maybe Craig looked more respectable driving his family’s car than Tom did driving his own ‘54 Chevy.

Craig danced the first three dances with her and got her some punch. When Charlie asked her for the next dance, she looked over toward Craig, but he was backing away. The song was Whenever He Needs Me, and Charlie held her close again. She didn’t like his poking into her. When the next-to-the-last dance was starting, she popped into the girl’s. She not only used the facilities and straightened her dress, she used the mirror to renew her lipstick. She was a woman, being driven home by her man; she wanted to look the part.

The last dance was Ghost Car. Craig came for her and they danced as Jerry Timmons told them of the driver who would “never pull over again.” Craig had as much of a stiffie as Charlie had, but he did his best to hide it from her. She decided that he was acting like a gentleman.

Craig didn’t drive her directly home. Instead, he stopped in the teacher’s parking lot at her old grade school. “I really enjoyed this evening,” he said. “Dancing with you is loads of fun.”

“I enjoyed it, too,” she said.

He took her hand and leaned over to where she was sitting. He kissed her on the mouth. He didn’t ask permission, but he moved slowly. She could have ducked if she had wanted to, but she definitely hadn’t wanted to. Their mouths met for minutes. They were both breathing hard when he broke away.

“I really need to get you back,” he said.

She had learned to wait for him to open the door, and he did this time. He walked her to her door and gave her as light a kiss as he had the times before.

“You’re late,” her mom said when she saw her. Her dad was in their room, and -- for a wonder -- her mom didn’t call him.

“Barb was at the same dance. Is she back yet?” She never had been in all the previous occasions they went to the same dances.

“Your sister is older and has different rules.”

“That isn’t fair. It is the same dance. So, Craig drove home a little slowly. Would you want him to speed? Would you?”

The argument went on and on. “All right,” said her mom finally. “We’ll want to talk with Craig before the next date. Now clean yourself off.”

When Sandy got upstairs and looked in the mirror, she was shocked. Her lipstick was smeared all over her face.

The rules they set for Craig were surprisingly loose. She could get home from a dance a half hour after it ended; she could stop off for a hamburger or something after a movie, but she had to be home an hour after the movie was over. “And ten o’clock is it,” said her dad. “There might be special events, but Sandy has to ask especially for each one.”

Sandy learned better than to freshen her lipstick for the last dance. If anything, she was one of the girls blotting her lips and trying to wipe the remnants of lipstick away at the end of the evening.

The Cameron Sisters did break up. Peggy Cameron had a hit single, Sweet Lies. All the magazines suggested that the song wasn’t really about breaking up with some boy, but about how her sisters had behaved. When Peggy Cameron sang, “Those aren’t tears in my eyes,” Sandy could well believe it. Her career as a single just showed who the real star of the group had been.

Barb broke up with Tom. Sandy thought this was almost as bad as the breakup of the Cameron Sisters. They had been going together forever. And Tom hadn’t talked down to Sandy the way Barb did.

She hadn’t seen The Alamo when it came out, and Craig took her to see it when it came to Taylor’s Cinema again. He held her hand, squeezing it at every exciting point in the movie. That was nice, but he clearly was paying more attention to the movie than to her. In the car afterwards, he took her face in both hands while he kissed her. He caressed her head, running his hands through her hair and mussing it totally. He held her shoulders while he kissed her hard. Then he eased up with his mouth while his hands moved down. She couldn’t believe it; he was touching her breast.

She felt violated; she also felt excited. Her breasts had never felt so alive. She waited for a moment, then pushed his arms away. “That’s enough,” she said. He reached up to her face and kissed her again. Then he leaned back in his seat and started the car. Luckily, no one was home when she got there; she brushed out her hair before anyone saw her.

They were parking and kissing after every movie or dance now. He took her to the Dairy Queen some nights. They sat in a booth and talked with all the other kids, but he was careful to leave with plenty of time to get her home. He even took enough time to park afterwards.

She didn’t mind. Indeed, she enjoyed his attentions. The date after they had seen The Alamo was a dance. She danced with him for the first four dances and for Honey Bee. The last dance was Sweet Lies.

“Those aren’t tears in my eyes.
Rain drops fell from the skies.
I won’t miss your sweet lies.
Those aren’t tears in my eyes,”
Peggy Cameron sang while Craig led her around the dance floor. They moved so well together now.

She noticed that his hand, which had begun this dance at her waist, had drifted lower. It wasn’t holding her seat, the way some of the Senior boys danced. He did, however, touch her there. Every time she flexed her left hip, she could feel maybe one finger touching that muscle. She looked around to see if any chaperone had noticed. They didn’t seem to. It felt exciting, evil but exciting.

When they parked that night, he held her shoulders while he kissed her hard. When he eased back, his hands caressed her arms all the way down to the wrists. He gripped her shoulders again for another hard kiss. This time his hands moved down her front to cover her breasts. This felt exciting. She reached up and held his face, so she could kiss him harder.

He didn’t remove his hands until it was time to start the car. This time when he kissed her good night on the porch, he held her tight against him. She didn’t understand how he could feel anything through her coat; all she had felt was a vague pressure. Still, it had made her feel excited.

After the next movie, he kissed her and held her shoulders again. Then he began to unbutton her coat. Could she stop him? Should she stop him? Then it was done, and he was holding her breast through her blouse and bra. The idea of this felt even more exciting, but the sensations she felt were exciting, too.


Barb’s graduation was coming up. She was the center of family attention. Sandy didn’t like it, but she was resigned to it. Besides, she needed a little inattention just then.

Craig was parking at the end of every date. He was putting his hands all over her blouse every time they parked. Sandy didn’t want her mom to know (and she certainly didn’t want her dad to know), but she found it exciting. One night, they were deep into a kiss; her nipples were reaching out toward Craig’s hands. Suddenly a horn blew just in front of them. They jerked apart and looked wildly around. Sandy couldn’t see anybody.

“I think my elbow hit the horn,” Craig said. That was as likely as anything. “Sometimes I hate the steering wheel. Would you like to move in back?”

That was a good idea, but she looked at her watch. “We only have minutes.”

“Next time, then?” That was a better idea.

“Next time,” she said. And that meant there would be a next date, not that she really worried about that.

He drove her home and kissed her on the porch. That was a long kiss, even though it didn’t compare with what they had already had that night.

After the next dance, they parked. “In back?” he asked. He opened his door and got in the back on the left side. She made her own journey. Craig, who opened the door for her every time at the movies, expected her to get herself into the back seat. Once she was there, however, he kissed her tenderly. Only after that, did he open her coat. He held the back of her head with one hand while he kissed her. The other hand cupped and rubbed her breast.


Next Friday at dinner, her mom said, “Tell Craig to come right back after the movie, will you? And ask him to come in.” She wondered what they had found out. Instead of some accusation, however, she and Craig were met with the smell of cocoa. Her mom served the two of them in the kitchen and drank a cup herself. Then she left them alone in the living room watching Gunsmoke. Craig sat apart from her, but his arm was across her back. When the program ended at ten o’clock, he got up to leave. Still, there was no sound on the stairs. He kissed her good night before putting on his coat.

She could feel his stiffie, but it didn’t gross her out. Really, she rather liked it. When she’d waved from the doorway and watched his car out of sight from the window, the news was on. She switched off the TV and walked upstairs to her room. “Did you have a good time, darling?” her mom called from her room.

“Yes, thank you.” And it had been a good time.

The weather changed suddenly. At beginning of the week, it was chilly, turning to drizzle during dinner on Tuesday. Wednesday and Thursday, it rained so heavily that her mom drove her to school both days. Craig stopped her in the hall after her algebra class on Wednesday. “My mom drove me to school today.”

“So did mine.” So did half the moms in town.

“I’m being picked up tonight. I can’t leave by the usual exit.”

“I’m being picked up, too. And so is Barb. So, I can’t change.”

“I just wanted you to know. I’m not avoiding you.”

“That’s okay. I understand.” Actually, while she enjoyed talking to him after school, she enjoyed this as well. He’d never said he’d be there the next day. She’d looked for him, but -- for months -- he’d never actually said he’d be there. “Look, I have to get to biology.” The bell rang before she did, and Mr. Jenkins gave her a dirty look as she scrambled past him.

When they got out of school on Thursday, kids were carrying their raincoats instead of wearing them. They could have walked home, but she and Barb waited for their mom, anyway. The wait was only a few minutes, and her mom was cheerful when they got in the car. “Isn’t this a great day?”

And, despite having to go back to school the next day, it was.

Her mom made her take her raincoat to the movies the next night. She didn’t need it, but her mom didn’t believe the forecasts. She carried it into the theater, and Craig led her to the balcony. He put his arm around her up there. She could feel the heat of that arm through his shirt and her thin blouse. That was more exciting than the movie.

A week later, the gym was too warm. The cool air where they parked was a relief, but not enough of one to crank down the windows. They sat pressed against each other in the back seat while Craig kissed her. He broke to kiss all over her face, and then returned to her mouth. His tongue pressed against her lips! When she opened her mouth, it seemed terribly intrusive. Still, a thrill went through her when her tongue met it. While they were kissing like that, Craig moved his hand over her leg through the skirt. For the first time, he got her back later than her curfew. Her dad was waiting and chewed them out before Craig escaped from the porch.

The weather, which had been cold so long, seemed to turn hot almost immediately. She wore a thin, short-sleeved, blouse to a movie date with Craig. She could feel the warmth of his arm across her back. His fingers continually traced a pattern over the skin of her arm. She could hardly pay attention to the movie. In the back seat afterwards, Craig held her right breast with one hand, his arm curving around the back of her neck. The other hand traced all over her blouse. His hands weren’t chilly in this warm weather, but she shivered anyway. The kiss, the touches, the knowledge that he was hers, all added up to a wonderfully exciting feeling.

He began to unbutton the blouse. She knew she should stop him. He’d unbuttoned her coat many times, but he could see her without a coat any time -- strangers did all the time. Of course, they couldn’t touch her. Still, taking off her blouse was revealing her in a new way, a dangerous way.

Then, while she was deciding, his hands were on her skin. The touch was soothing and exciting all at the same time. She relaxed into the kiss.

When he kissed her good night on her porch that night, he gripped her hips and pressed himself against her. His stiffie was harder than it had ever been, but it didn’t bother her. Instead, she had a surprising feeling of power. He suddenly let go of her seat to look at his watch. “I’d better let you go in,” he said.

Her mom and dad were watching Maverick when she passed through the living room. Neither said anything. When she got ready for bed, her panties were damp. It hadn’t been that hot; she was sure that she hadn’t sweated. She put them in the hamper and forgot about it.

Barb had a date to the next dance. His name was Rick. Sandy had only been vaguely aware of him, but he was in some of Barb’s classes. Barb was excited about him, about not being all alone, about everything. Still, the house was more pleasant with her excited than it had been when she was moping.

After she and Craig had had three dances, he went off to ask one of the girls without a date. She danced one of the fast dances by herself. Then Charlie asked her to dance. The song was Ghost Car.

“I think this might be my favorite song,” he said. He sang along with the record, quite softly.

“Does a ghost car drive on route twenty-five
As drivers have seen now and then?
That Smokey knows holds no one alive
Who’ll ever pull over again.”

He was holding her rather close, but no closer than Craig did these days. Just then, Craig danced past with a girl from his class. She pushed herself tighter against Charlie. Craig didn’t seem to notice, but Charlie got a noticeable stiffie. He also stopped singing.

She decided that she liked knowing that she had given Charlie a stiffie. Craig might be paying attention to another girl, but Sandy had what it took to interest other guys. In the car afterwards, though, Craig’s attention was all on her. He kissed her hard and held her breasts through her bra. Again, when she got home, her panties were damp. She hoped it wasn’t pee.


Somehow, she never got a chance to talk with Craig. They spoke for a few minutes after school almost every day, but there were other kids around then. The few times when her family wasn’t around to hear her telephone conversations, she was afraid his were around his end. They went on dates, but that was about dancing or movies and petting. It wasn’t about talking.

Craig’s (and Linda’s) mom got a job on the A&P checkout line. Linda, unlike Barb, was planning on going to college. When Sandy’s mom heard about the new job, she was slightly disapproving. To her, it sounded as if Linda’s mom needed a job to pay the tuition.

Barb and Linda had made plans for the prom months before. Those plans had, naturally, included Tom and Larry. Now that Tom wasn’t involved, all those plans had to be scrapped. Larry was still Tom’s friend, and he was rather on the outs with Rick.

The prom was all about seniors, but other students in the high school went there as well. Craig invited Sandy. Unfortunately, it ended after her curfew. She marshaled all her arguments: Barb had gone her freshman year; her parents knew Craig and knew that he was reliable. But she didn’t need any of those arguments. “That’s lovely, dear,” her mom said. “You’ll be back half an hour after the end of the prom?” That was plenty of time.

She bought a new dress for the prom. Craig even brought a corsage. He pinned it on her, touching her breast through the dress. She blushed that her mom and dad could see that, but they didn’t say a word. She wasn’t too used to walking in high heels, and she had to dance in them. Craig led her firmly, though, and she got through the evening.

The prom was different, and not just wearing shoes. There were a prom queen and her court -- only seniors could vote for them. They saw one senior boy propose to his date, kneeling down right out on the dance floor. It was a traditional night for proposals, but the public nature was a rare event. Sandy saw the ring afterwards, though. It fit the girl’s finger suspiciously well.

They only got to park for a few minutes after they left the prom. They didn’t even leave the front seat. It was just as well; she was feeling sleepy by that time. Craig reached for the zipper on the back of her dress anyway, but she wouldn’t cooperate. He didn’t insist; probably he was feeling sleepy as well. Her mom helped her out of the new dress when she got home, and then brought her a sandwich when she was in bed. She didn’t get to sleep for more than an hour after she got home, but Barb got in even later than that.

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