Chapter 46

Debbie barged into my bedroom the morning after our double date.

“I can’t believe you did that!” she shouted.

I was sitting on the side of my bed, bent over tying the shoelace on my sneaker. Startled, the folded shoelace slipped from my fingers as I looked up.

“Did what?” I asked, but I was chuckling inside knowing full well what I had done.

“In the car! You, you—!”

“Shh, my mom will hear.”

Debbie looked stunned, like she had awoken from a nightmare and was disoriented. She gathered herself and then closed my bedroom door. Then she pulled my chair out from under the desk, turned it to face me, and plopped down on the chair.

In a lower voice, Debbie said, “What you did with Paul in the car.”

“Didn’t you do it with Wally?”

“No. Yes. Sort of. But not like you.”

“Didn’t Wally feel you up?”

“Yeah.”

“Wasn’t your blouse unbuttoned?”

“Oh god, how’d you know?”

“Was your bra still on?”

“Of course. That’s what I mean. You showed Paul your boobs.”

“How else was he going to suck them?”

“Wally sucked mine over my bra.”

“Did it feel good?”

“Yeah. I like it a lot.”

“It feels better without the bra. You should try it.”

“Oh god, no! I just couldn’t.”

“But you let Wally put his hand under your skirt and touch you down there.”

“How’d you know he did that?” Debbie was wide-eyed.

“I saw the way you were squirming. And I saw how you came.”

“But ... but he didn’t really touch it. He only touched my panties.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I don’t know. It’s just different.” Debbie looked like she wanted to say something more and then made up her mind. “Did Paul put his finger inside you?”

“No, he just rubbed me.”

“Well, Wally rubbed me, too. But over my panties. And he didn’t see anything he wasn’t supposed to.”

“Why wasn’t he supposed to?” I asked.

“I don’t know, he’s just not supposed to. A boy isn’t not supposed to see under your skirt.”

I giggled. I couldn’t help it.

“Why are you laughing?” Debbie asked. She looked angry. Maybe hurt.

“Because it’s okay for him to touch you under your skirt,” I said.

Debbie looked confused. She thought for a moment and then said, “I don’t know, but I like when he does it.”

“I like it too. And I like it even better when he touches me inside my panties.”

“Oh god, I just couldn’t let a boy do that.”

“Then don’t,” I said.

“Huh?”

“Only do it if you want to. And don’t do it just because I did.”

“Sometimes I want him to, but I chicken out,” Debbie said.

“By the way, why were you watching me and Paul?”

“What! I wasn’t. I mean, I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s all right, I didn’t mind. So what do you want to do today?”

Debbie was so befuddled that I had thought I should change the subject and she was more than willing to do so. We talked about anything other than sex.

The days passed and I hated to admit it, but sometimes my mother was right. I had needed to get out of the house. And the double date had also been what I needed. I was still sad about Mr. Roman, but I no longer lay in bed all day buried under the blanket.

Like all summers before it, the beginning of the summer vacation was great. No school. Able to do whatever I wanted. But after a while it got boring. Debbie and I double dated a few times, but the make-out sessions were never like the one where I had put on a show for Debbie. Oh, Paul and I got pretty passionate in the back seat, but I didn’t flaunt it. I just enjoyed it. Debbie peeked a few times, but paid more attention to making out with Wally than watching Paul and me. I actually looked forward to our double dates. Not only the sex in the car, but being with Paul. I liked him.

And then one day I got a call from Paul. It was unexpected because Wally seemed to always take the lead. He would call Debbie and she would talk to me and the four of us would go out.

After some pleasantries, Paul asked, “When will you need me to make believe I’m taking you out?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“No.”

“You don’t want to go out with me?”

“I was talking about fooling your parents so they think I’m taking you out. To make believe I’m taking you out.”

“You want to make believe we’re going out but not go out? Why?”

“Like we used to. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go into the school when it’s closed and make out before you have to go wherever you go.”

It finally sank in. He meant the times I had gone out with Mr. Roman.

“Oh, I don’t do that anymore,” I said.

There was silence on the other end of the line. I waited, but Paul didn’t say anything. And then it dawned on me.

“Do you mean you want to go to the teacher’s lounge in the school when it’s closed?” I asked.

“Yeah.” There was no hesitation this time.

“I don’t need you to pretend we’re—”

“But I thought—”

“Let me finish,” I said. “We don’t need to pretend. If you want to, we can go on a date and go to the teacher’s lounge instead of parking.”

“We can?”

“Why not? I still have a key. So do you want to?”

“Yeah! A lot!”

“So you’re asking me out on a date.”

“Yeah, will you go on a date with me?”

“Of course.” I chuckled. “What took you so long to ask?”

“I thought you only went out with me because Debbie wanted it to be a double date.”

“That’s how it started, but I like you.”

“You do?”

“Can’t you tell?”

“Sometimes, but not always.”

I thought about that. It had been different when Mr. Roman was alive.

“Maybe not so much in the beginning,” I said, “but I do now. I thought you knew.”

“I wasn’t sure,” Paul said. “I really like you.”

“That’s why we’re going on a date. A real date, not a make believe date to fool my parents. And just you and me. Not a double date. I can’t wait.”