Chapter 8

“I don’t see what you find so funny about the situation,” she huffed.

“I’m sorry Sandy,” I said, “no I don’t find that funny, not in the slightest. No, what I find funny is that we find ourselves in almost the identical situation.”

“You’re going to have to explain that to me,” she said.

“I will,” I replied, “but you’ll have to give me a minute to pull myself together.”

By the time I had pulled myself together and stopped laughing the boat had docked.

We walked off, side by side, in silence.

“I’ll take you back to your hotel,” she said, sharply, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow in time for your flight.”

As she set off towards the car park, I caught her wrist and turned her back round to face me.

“I promised you an explanation,” I said, “I wasn’t laughing at you, I was laughing at the situation.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Sandy, you’ve known Steve since you were five, right?”

She nodded yes.

“And was he your best friend growing up?”

“Absolutely,” she said, “and you loved each other?”

She nodded again.

“And when did you realise that you were in love with him?”

She sighed.

“Is this going somewhere?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, “just bear with me,” I replied, “all will be revealed.”

We reached her car and she flashed it unlocked.

“Okay,” she said, “carry on.”

“When?”

“Oh that, I suppose I’d be around thirteen, fourteen, maybe fifteen,” she said.

“And later you found out that much as you loved each other, you couldn’t have him, because you had the wrong equipment in your underwear?”

“Yes,” she sighed.

“Right then, that’s your story, now listen to mine,” I said, “I first met Cal when we were five, she moved in next door. We were best friends, throughout our childhood, we started school together, she’s two weeks older than me, but we were in the same class.”

“I’m a month older than Steve,” she said.

“Then when we were fourteen, another boy asked her out and she said yes,” I went on, “I did not react well, and I ended up in the headmaster’s study. That was the day we realised that we didn’t just love each other, we were in love with each other.”

“That’s so romantic,” she said, “and so like me and Steve. Except you’re not gay.”

“No I’m not,” I agreed, “Cal’s a singer, a very good singer. She got a chance to go to a summer school at the Munich Conservatory, at the same time as I came to LA to make Star Academy.”

“Is that where this incident happened that ended in you getting her out of the country and to LA?”

“Yes,” I answered, “we’d been sort of estranged because of that incident, but I still loved her, and I wasn’t prepared to sit by and watch her being abused by the system.”

“I remember reading about it,” she said, “but there were no details.”

“The details aren’t really important,” I said, “when we got home, things went back to normal. We finished High school at sixteen.”

“You did AP classes?”

“AP?” I asked.

“Advanced placement, college level classes,” she explained.

“No sixteen is the school leaving age in the UK, we both stayed on to do University entrance exams. I transferred to what we call a sixth form college, she moved to a specialist music school in Manchester.”

“And you couldn’t stand the separation?” she asked.

“No,” I replied, “there was a clique at college, and they wanted her to do things that I didn’t like as a sort of initiation. When I asked her to leave a disco we were at, where she was ignoring me and dancing with her new friends, she refused. At the point when I realised that she wasn’t going to stop doing the weird things they wanted, I left Manchester and got the night train home.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t you just being precious,” she asked.

“I was at the time,” I said, “and I’m even more so now. The following day, she wanted to talk, on the phone, but I said no, if she wanted to talk she had to come home to do it.”

“And she didn’t?”

“No,” I said, “she was insistent that she ‘couldn’t’ come home. I didn’t find out until later in the week that it was because they were still insisting that she choose them or me. She didn’t choose me. The irony is, that because she didn’t fulfil the initiation tasks, they told her that she couldn’t be a member of their circle. That was when she came home and tried to persuade me that it had all been a mistake. So, you see, there are a number of parallels between the situation you find yourself in and mine.”

By this time we were in the car.

“Come on,” she said, “let’s go see what Mom has made for dinner.”

Thanks to the Lincoln Tunnel, we were pulling up outside her building in less than half an hour.

Her mother greeted me like a long-lost son.

After an excellent dinner, of Lamb Koftas and vegetables, we had ice cream for dessert, and then Maria went off to work, she and her bandmates were playing at a bar in downtown Hoboken and wouldn’t be home until the small hours.

“I’m sorry,” Sandy said, “I shouldn’t have doubted you earlier.”

“Forget it,” I said, “water under the bridge.”

For that she walked over and kissed me, gently, on the lips, but without trying to turn it into a game of tonsil tennis.

“Nice,” I said softly.

“Do you mind if I turn the TV on?” she asked, “there’s a programme I like starting in about five minutes, then after that, I’ll take you back to the hotel.”

“You don’t need to,” I said, “I can get the bus.”

“No,” she said, “I’ll take you.”

“So, what’s the programme?” I asked.

“It’s about a group of young people growing up in California. You might like it, it’s got an English actress in it,” she replied.

“Really?” I answered, “who?”

“Her name’s Charlie something.”

“Charlie Hudson?” I asked.

“You know her?” she asked.

“Yes, we made a TV crime drama together last year, just before she moved over here.”

I decided not to go into the intimate details.

The programme started, and I have to admit, for an American teen TV show, it was pretty good. There were two outstanding performances, there was Charlie, and the guy playing the bad boy of the group, Mark Russell, or something like that.

When it finished, Sandy turned the TV off.

“What did you think?” she asked.

“It was good, Charlie was excellent in it, but then, she always is,” I replied.

“I don’t believe that you actually know Charlie Hudson,” she said.

I didn’t answer, just took out my phone, scrolled through the contacts and showed her the number, she recognised it as being a California number.

I looked at the sunburst clock on the wall.

“I’d better be going,” I said.

“You don’t have to,” she replied.

“Sandy,” I said, my voice low.

“Hear me out,” she said, “remember last night’s four reasons?”

“Yes,” I replied, “they’re just as valid tonight.”

“No, actually, they’re not,” she said, “for a start, this isn’t a first date. On the second, all right, I’m still not on birth control, but I have condoms. On the third point, the age of consent in New Jersey is sixteen.”

“There’s still my point four,” I said.

“Which in my opinion,” she said, “is not valid. You and, what’s her name, Cal?”

I nodded yes.

“You and Cal are at this point in time, through, finished. You are therefore free to do what you like, with whom you like, or not as the case may be,” she carried on, “David, I would like you to stay, with or without sex. It would just be nice to sleep with a warm body, to wake up wrapped in one. And if that’s all that happens, then that’s cool.”

“Sandy,” I began, “I...”

She placed a finger on my lips.

“David,” she said, softly, “I don’t think you realise just how powerful a boy, no, a man, you are. You are such a sweet, kind, caring human being, that I suspect you’re going to have a problem all your life. People will flock to you, girls, women will fall for you. Hell, I’ve only known you a day and already I’m smitten, and as you so charmingly said, I’m way too old for you.”

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Maybe,” she replied, “One day. But back to my point. You my friend are never going to have problems getting laid. Hell, I’m pretty sure that if Mom came home and found you in her bed, she wouldn’t kick you out. But that’s not because you’re the best looking guy in the world, or the richest, or even the most powerful, it’s because you’re you.”

She held out her hand.

“Now, it’s crunch time,” she said, taking my hand in hers, “that door over there leads outside, that one behind me leads to my bedroom. Which one are you taking me through?”

I pulled on her hand and drew her to me. When she was close enough, I trapped her in my arms and kissed her.

“Even without sex?” I asked.

“Even without sex,” she agreed, as I led her through the door.

I woke the next morning to the sun streaming through the window, with the familiar feeling of a bladder that was demanding emptying. There was a complication thought. The morning erection, which would make it impossible to relieve the pressure on my bladder, and the beautiful young woman who was spooned up against my front.

To add to my distress, my erection was currently trapped between her thighs, and my left hand was currently cupped round her small, firm left breast, held there by her own hand.

I tried to extricate myself without disturbing her, without success.

“Where do you think you’re going mister?” she asked, sleepily.

“To the bathroom, I need to pee,” I replied.

“Nope,” she said, “not until you pay the price of admission.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“A good morning kiss,” she replied.

I leaned over gave her a quick peck on the lips and started extricating myself again.

“No,” she said, “not good enough, I mean a proper good morning kiss.”

As she said it, she twisted round so she was facing me and demonstrated what she meant.

“Now I really need to go,” I said, “before something around here gets really wet.”

“Something already did,” she said as she let go of me.

I climbed out of the bed and the next problem hit me, no clothes.

“Sandy,” I said, “I can’t go wandering round your apartment in the nude, not with your mother here.”

“Don’t worry,” she replied, “she won’t be awake for hours yet. Go.”

I went, and after a couple of minutes of thinking of anything but nubile young women lying in bed in the next room, managed to do what I’d gone in there for.

I gave my face and hands a quick wash when I’d finished, then opened the door and walked out into the corridor, to be faced with Maria. Both my hands immediately dropped to my crotch.