Chapter 15: A Confidence Violated

February 9, 2002, Chicago, Illinois

🎤 Birgit

“What do you want to do when you visit?” Kjell asked after we sat down to eat lunch together in the ‘Indian’ room on Saturday.

“Whatever you and your friends usually do,” I replied. “I’m pretty good with Swedish, and I know you and your friends speak English.”

“We like to play football, go to the beach, ride bikes, and hang out.”

“You mean what we call soccer, right? Not what we call football?”

“You mean your game where it actually violates the rules to move the ball forward with your feet?” Kjell asked.

I laughed, “I think it’s a dumb game, anyway!”

“What sports do you like?”

“Figure skating, and sometimes I watch ice hockey with my dad.”

“You look like you’re pretty good at karate, but I don’t know much about it.”

“I’m the most senior brown belt, which is pretty good. My mom is a 1st Dan black belt, and Dad is a 6th Dan black belt. My other mom is a 2nd Kyu brown belt, right behind me in rank. And you heard me say that I might take my black belt test in August.”

“Can you break boards and bricks?”

“Yes, and we used to do that, but we use special training devices now because they’re safer. It’s like a board, but it latches together and unlatches if you hit it properly. We only use real boards for tests from yellow to orange and brown to black.”

“Have you ever used karate on anyone?”

“Only on boys who annoy me!” I giggled.

“Do I annoy you?” Kjell asked, though it seemed as if he was teasing.

“No,” I said. “And maybe when I visit this Summer you’ll get a reward for being nice to me!”

“A reward?” he asked.

I smiled, “«Jag ska ha p-piller då!»” (“I’ll be on the Pill then!”)

“«Menar du... »” (“You mean...”)

“«Om du är jätte snäll innan vi kommer till Sverige!»” (“If you’re super-nice before we come to Sweden!”)

“«Jag ska göra mitt bästa!»” (“I do my best!”)

“Have you?” I asked, switching back to English.

“No,” Kjell replied. “Have you?”

“No. But I’m sure we can figure it out!”

Kjell laughed and smiled, “Me, too!”

🎤 Steve

“«Du har inte ändrat en bit!»” Karin said, laughing hard. (“You haven’t changed at all!”)

“«Jag gillar tjejer! Det vet du väl!» (“I like girls! You know that very well!”)

I took Maya’s hand, and we went downstairs to use a guest room, as Natalie was staying with us, as she usually did on weekends.

“What was that about?” Maya asked.

“Just my friends teasing me about you. As soon as I introduced you at lunch, my Swedish friend assumed why you were here, and then when we excused ourselves, she teased me about it in Swedish.”

“I didn’t know you spoke Swedish until just then!” Maya said as we began undressing. “When did you learn?”

“When I was in Sweden as an exchange student during my Junior year of High School. I’ve been back a few times, and I’m going back again in July. I was going to tell you that, because I’ll be gone on the second Saturday.”

“During the Summer, I can be out of the house during the day while my parents are at work without anyone knowing, but I guess you work.”

“I do, but I basically own the company so I can set my own hours. June and August might be tricky, too, depending on my schedule, but I’ll make sure you know so we can work out a time to be together, assuming you want to.”

Maya laughed softly, “I’d have you in my room every night if I could! But I know you’re married, so that can’t happen! Well, not to mention how my dad might react! I’m eighteen, but he still thinks I’m twelve or something.”

“Not uncommon. You had a «quince», right?”

“Yes. And me being a ‘woman’ lasted about five minutes because he saw me dance with a boy!”

I laughed, “So, a typical dad?”

“Yes, though you aren’t! You wouldn’t object to Birgit doing this, would you?”

“She has to decide for herself,” I said as we climbed into bed.

[Oswego, Illinois] 🎤 Matthew

“How was closing night?” Chelsea asked when I called her after our final performance of Macbeth.

“Great! I’m heading to the cast party at Chaz’s.”

“I wish I could have been there!”

“Me, too, but you’ll be here next Friday!”

“Yes! I’ll let you go to your party! Have fun!”

“I’ll call you on Thursday,” I said as I climbed into Mom’s car.

We said ‘goodbye’ and I closed my phone to disconnect the call.

“Everything good?”

“Always!” I replied. “Well, it would be better if Chelsea could have moved here sooner, but it’s only four more months.”

“Are we stopping home, or am I dropping you at Chaz’s?”

“Home first, please. We need to get the snacks I’m bringing.”

“What time am I picking you up?”

“Maggie’s dad offered to bring me home. She has to leave at 11:00pm and I’m cool with that.”

“Are the cast parties like the ones when I was in High School?”

“No comment,” I smirked.

“I know better! You’d never do anything that would upset Chelsea. Not to mention I know Mr. and Mrs. Jackson would never, ever put up with that kind of stuff!”

“But YOU would,” I replied.

“To a point,” Mom said. “Remember, we have to be responsible to the other parents, even if we’re more permissive. Your dad handles things in a similar way with your sisters, and Jesse’s moms do as well.”

I laughed, “Jesse’s moms let him have ‘sleepovers’ and I guarantee that the girls’ parents don’t approve!”

“That’s one area where all of us agree — you kids have to have the freedom to make your own decisions in that area, as well as the privacy you need.”

“How were Grandma and Grandpa Clarke? You never talked much about growing up.”

“They were pretty typical for parents back then. They were conservative, but not anything like your Grandma Adams. They never approved of Sean, but they did let me hang out with him because he was the older brother of one of my friends.”

“He was a lot older, right?”

“I suppose it depends on how you look at it. He was nineteen, and I was almost fourteen when we met.”

“So really, only two more years than Chelsea and me?”

“Yes, but those two years were huge — I was in eighth grade and he’d graduated from Live Oaks Vocational a year before. You’re a Freshman and Chelsea is a Senior. It’s also different because you two have known each other since you were a baby, and developed a real relationship. Sean just wanted sex.”

“And you?” I asked with a smirk.

“What do you kids say?” Mom asked, laughing softly. “You think?!”

“He was your first?”

“Yes, not long after I turned fourteen.”

“Have you ever regretted it?”

“I guess it depends on how you mean that. I don’t, but I wouldn’t recommend it for most girls that age, or boys for that matter.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I have to include some details...” Mom smirked.

I laughed, “I think I can handle it this one time!”

“I was VERY horny and Sean knew exactly how to make me want it. I wasn’t really ready, but he made me feel so good that I basically let him do everything. And I really, really enjoyed it.”

“But you didn’t really want to do it?”

“I did, and I didn’t. I guess you could say I was conflicted, but I let him get me so worked up that I resolved the conflict in favor of having wild, crazy sex.”

“Wild and crazy? Your first time?”

“Yes. Do you want to know?”

“No. I think my imagination is sufficient, and I’ll still need a few gallons of brain bleach!”

Mom laughed, “I think every normal teenager has that opinion.”

“Not Birgit.”

“I did say ‘normal’! Your oldest sister is anything BUT normal!”

“No kidding!”

February 10, 2002, Chicago, Illinois

🎤 Jesse

On Sunday morning I’d gone to church and talked with Macrina, and we made a date for Presidents’ Day when we’d hang out with Matthew and Chelsea before Chelsea flew home that evening. I had hoped to get together with her, but our weekend plans hadn’t lined up at all, and given the limits her parents had put on her, it was tough for her to come into the city. That Monday would fit into my schedule perfectly, because Angelina’s parents had the day off work and she wouldn’t be able to spend the afternoon with me without raising suspicions she didn’t want to be raised.

“I’m going to Brooke’s house for lunch,” I said to my moms. “I’ll be home before our family dinner, but I’m not sure when.”

“Another girl?” Mom Two asked with a smirk.

“I’m very popular,” I replied smugly.

“A legend in your own mind, too!”

“Enjoy your lunch,” Mom One said. “Assuming you and your ego can get out the door together!”

“Love you, too!” I chuckled.

I left the house and walked south a block, then started walking east towards the lake, turning north again when I reached South Blackstone Avenue, the street where Kenwood Academy was located. Brooke’s house was just north of the football field, and when I reached the house, I walked up the stone steps and through an arched entryway to the porch, then rang the bell.

“Hi!” Brooke exclaimed when she opened the door about ten seconds after I rang the bell.

She was dressed differently from when she was at school. She usually wore loose-fitting clothes, but today she had on a yellow fuzzy sweater and a gray skirt. She still looked like a nerd with long straight hair, no makeup, and thick glasses, but from what I could tell, she was in good shape, something I couldn’t have guessed from what I’d seen at school. I thought if she got contacts, pulled her hair back, and put on just a touch of makeup, she’d be cute.

“Hi,” I replied.

“Come in!”

She stepped back, let me into the house, then closed the door behind me. I took off my jacket, hat, and gloves, and hung them on the coatrack, then took off my shoes and put them on a rubber mat so that the slush wouldn’t mar the wood floors.

“Lunch is ready,” she said. “I hope you’re OK with vegetable soup and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

“I think I’ll manage,” I chuckled. “I wasn’t expecting a five-course gourmet meal!”

“Maybe next time!” Brooke replied with a smile.

I followed her through the house to the kitchen where she had our lunch waiting. She offered me lemonade or a soft drink, and I asked for lemonade. She poured some for both of us, and then we sat down.

“Did you hear we won our regional tournament at IIT last week?” Brooke asked.

“No,” I replied. “I don’t really follow what goes on in academic clubs.”

“Social clubs?”

“No. Just sports, really.”

“But you get good grades, right?”

“I’m making straight A’s this year, but hockey takes up almost all of my free time, because we have four or five practices every week, plus our games.”

“You made the playoffs again this year, right?”

“Yes. We’re first seed.”

“You were starting goalie last year as a Freshman, right?”

“Yes. You know, I don’t know what year you are.”

“Junior. I was the first-ever Sophomore captain of the Math Olympics team last year.”

“You’re that smart?” I asked, setting up her response, if she got the reference.

“Let me put it this way. Have you ever heard of Plato, Aristotle, Socrates?” she asked with a smirk.

“Yes,” I replied with a grin because she’d got it.

“Morons,” she declared, completing the lines from The Princess Bride.

“Well, let’s hope you don’t end up like him!”

“Unless you’re the masked man, I think I’m safe!”

“Well,” I smirked, “I have spent the last sixteen years building up an immunity to estrogen!”

“You brat!” Brooke exclaimed.

“I was thinking more about my moms and my sisters!”

“How long have your moms been together?”

“Since college. Mom One, that’s my birth mom, got pregnant right after graduation, and they’ve raised me together ever since. They actually married, though the State of Illinois doesn’t recognize it.”

“People should be allowed to marry whomever they love,” Brooke said. “Anything else is just dumb.”

“I agree, obviously!”

“And the rumors about your dad?”

“Are none of my business, or anyone else’s, for that matter. If you’re talking about his marriage, he does have multiple wives, though only one of them is legal. Otherwise, it’s better not to say anything.”

“I was actually referring to him having two wives.”

“Three, really, though the third one came along later.”

“So they’re the mothers of your sisters and brother?”

“I actually have two other brothers besides Albert — Matthew and Michael — by a woman who isn’t one of my dad’s wives, but who is a really close friend. They live in the west burbs and go to Oswego schools. Ashley and Albert have the same mom, who is the medical doctor, and Birgit and Stephie have the same mom, who is the chemistry professor.”

“I think it’s cool,” Brooke said. “People just need to mind their own business and not worry about what other people are doing. I mean, in a way, it’s not all that different from my mom and dad, who were both divorced before they married, and my biological dad has other kids with his new wife.”

“Were you the only kid?”

“Of my biological parents? Yes. I have a step-brother and step-sister from my dad’s first marriage. He and my mom decided not to have any kids.”

“When did all of that happen?”

“The divorce? About ten years ago, and they both remarried within two years.”

“Which explains why you don’t think my situation is weird.”

“No weirder than mine! I bet Christmas is MUCH easier for your family than mine!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty simple, actually. My moms and I do our Christmas early, I go to church, and then we do a big family Christmas with all my brothers and sisters.”

“What church?”

“Saint Innocent of Moscow Orthodox Church,” I said.

“We’re ‘high church’ Episcopalian, so I dig smells and bells.”

“Do you go often?”

“Every Sunday morning. You?”

“Unless it conflicts with hockey. I was at church this morning.”

“Me, too.”

We stopped talking so we could eat our soup before it got cold, and when we finished, Brooke loaded the plates and bowls into the dishwasher, an appliance that neither house at the Compound had.

“Want to see my room?” Brooke asked.

“Sure,” I replied.

She gave me a tour of the house, which had three stories, and we ended at the door to her room, which was on the top floor, and in the part of the house that resembled a tower.

“This is where I do my math homework,” she said. “I wondered if you’d help me solve the equation by finding out how many times you go into me?”

I tried really hard not to laugh, but I couldn’t help myself.

“You seem as if you’re as goofy as I am!” I replied. “But I would never have even thought about using math as a pickup line, even though Mom One showed me that equation a few years ago!”

“I’m fully convergent,” Brooke smirked, “but I think we’ll be harmonic! You can use your exponential function and perform multiple integrations on my singularity.”

I started laughing even harder than I had before. Her goofiness fit perfectly with mine, and I had plenty of silly things I could say right back.

“I’m no math expert,” I replied when I had some semblance of control over my laughter, “but I do know hockey! So perhaps a forecheck, hip check, backcheck, body check, and poke check? After a bit of roughing, some high sticking, boarding, spearing, then crash the net, aim for the five-hole, shoot, then score? Then go behind the goal and stuff it in the back door?”

Now Brooke was laughing, “I’m on the Pill, so we don’t have to worry about any derivative functions, no matter how many times we integrate!”

“That sounds good to me!” I replied.

“The girls told me how great it was, and I wanted to try it,” Brooke said, sound more serious. “I have no experience, so I hope you’re a good teacher.”

“I’m experienced,” I said. “But it really is an individual thing. I mean, the concepts apply, but every girl is different. May I make an observation?”

“Sure.”

“You’re not nearly as shy as I thought.”

“I don’t like big groups,” she said. “One-on-one, or at most two other people. Otherwise, I just want to curl up into a ball.”

“So how do you handle the Math Olympics?”

“Barely,” she replied. “I really need it to be sure I get into MIT or Stanford, so I kind of just psych myself up by remembering that. Once we get started and I can focus on the problems or questions, then it’s easier. I take it you enjoy the spectators at your games?”

“A cheering section helps a lot,” I replied. “And everyone who knows me knows I’m a showoff! My mom even asked if I and my ego and I could go through the door together!”

Brooke laughed softly, “Dad says that about me and my math. I really AM that good!”

“And it’s time to lose your convergence?” I asked.

“Yes! What do we do? I mean, I know the mechanics, but like math, you have to do practice problems to really understand!”

“What we do is up to you,” I replied. “I’m pretty much OK with anything you can probably think of.”

Brooke laughed, “I should have done more research just to come up with something to test that theory!”

“Building blocks,” I replied. “Like learning basic math, then algebra and geometry, then calculus. Or walk before you run.”

Brooke giggled, blushed, and asked, “Or suck before you fuck?”

“Well,” I grinned, “unlike math, there’s no defined order of operations! That said, dealing with our brackets first does make sense!”

Brooke laughed, “Clothes, right?”

“Yes.”

“You’re pretty good with puns!”

Brooke closed and locked her door.

“How long do we have?” I asked.

“My parents won’t be home until at least 6:00pm, so I’d say it’s safe to stay until 5:00pm.”

“Cool.”

“Take off our clothes at the same time?” she asked.

I nodded and unbuttoned the three buttons on my rugby shirt and pulled it over my head while Brooke pulled her sweater over her head, revealing her flat stomach and small breasts, her hard nipples obvious under her plain cotton bra. I took off my belt, then my jeans, while Brooke unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it. She had on plain white panties, but they clung tightly to her, showing the outlines of plump labia along with a small wet spot.