Thursday (part 1)

Waking up was a slow, luxurious process, cocooned in warm, soft sheets, hampered only by the fact that I had no idea where I was.

I had never seen this room before—at least, not from this angle. It looked vaguely familiar, but... Where was I? And whose chest was that up against my back, whose arm across my waist? Whose clothed erection just barely brushing against my rear? I stretched to look over my shoulder.

Oh. Brandon.

It's all coming together now.

Remembering where I was, unfortunately, meant remembering why I was there—what had brought me here yesterday, and what I'd have to do today. So I wasn't in an especially pleased mood when I arose. But I felt rested, if pensive, and waking up feeling rested was pretty rare thing for me. I figured I might as well count my blessings.

I checked the clock after using the toilet. Seven AM. Normally I was up at 6:30, but since that alarm clock was in my room at home, not here, I'd slept in a bit. Besides, since I'd taken a shower last night, there was no reason to be up that early. Brandon, for his part, seemed completely laid out, undisturbed by the flush of the toilet, and his alarm hadn't rung either. When exactly did he wake up?

The answer was, 7:30, as I found out after he stumbled into the kitchen, a little bleary, at 7:39, interrupting me and my bowl of cereal. He looked at me for a second, past me through me at me, as though some critical program in his brain was glitching; then everything snapped to life, and he said, "Did we seriously sleep together last night?"

"Well," I said. "Depends what you mean by 'sleep together.'"

"The literal meaning. Not sex. Just actual sleeping."

"Yeah, we did," I said.

"Hunh," said Brandon, and went for his own cereal bowl. "Never figured that the first time there'd be someone in bed with me, it'd be totally platonic."

Always with the sex, that guy. "Why, is something wrong with that," I asked, annoyed.

He thought for a minute. "Actually, no. Totally platonic is fine. Beats sleeping alone any day. But... Still, you know. Surprising."

I let him get away with that. It wasn't like I had that problem; the first time I'd shared a bed had been with a boyfriend.

"Do we tell Meredith," I asked him.

He looked startled. "How do you know about me and Meredith?" he asked through a mouthful of cereal. Hau do yugh know abogt me an Meridef?

I shrugged. "It's been obvious from the start." Which it had. And I didn't feel like saying more than that. True, I'd been completely out of it last night, which is probably when most of the fireworks happened, but I'd seen the way they looked at each other. "So, do we tell?"

"I dunno," he said, "I'm not sure how jealous she gets."

"How would you feel if you found out she slept with... God, I dunno. Derek, maybe."

A faint smile broke across his features. "And that's really the question, isn't it..." I had no idea what he was talking about. "Honestly," he said, "I don't know. I'd like to find out what Derek was thinking. And what Meredith was thinking."

"So, what were you thinking," I asked him.

"Thinking? What the hell are you talking about, thinking? It was late. We were tired. I just sort of let things happen." He winced. "That's not gonna sound good."

"Does she trust you?"

"I dunno," he said. "I hope so. I mean, it's not like we've been on a date or anything. We barely know each other."

"So we'll talk to her," I said. "We'll let her know what happened. If she doesn't trust you, she doesn't. If she does, she does." I felt too tired to be anything other than blunt and pragmatic. Forget all lofty conclusions; let things settle into place, like things sinking to the bottom of a riverbed.

"Maybe she can accept that we're just friends," he said. "Like Sam and Frodo. No attraction whatsoever."

"That's what you think," I retorted.

He rolled his eyes. "Middle-Earth isn't feudal Japan, Arie. No pretty-boy-loving 'round the Shire."

Part of me wanted to say, What if I meant the other thing, about being attracted to each other, but it wasn't really true, and I was too tired. Instead I said, "It's nice to have a friend when you're alone at night."

"Yeah, it is," he said. "Especially in lack of a significant other."

"But you don't lack a significant other anymore," I reminded him.

"Maybe I don't," he said, "but I lack a significant other who's willing to share a bed with me. And... It's nice to have someone there. Someone you can trust. It's like having a big stuffed animal. Of course," he added with a wry smile, "if Meredith does want to share a bed with me, she gets first dibs."

"Fine," I said. Apathy was the name of my game right now. I only have a certain amount of care in me, and today I needed to save it. Save it until I really, really needed it.

By the time Brandon had parked his car at school, I'd made my decision. "I'll tell her," I said. "It'll be good practice. For later." For when I'd have to confront my parents. And explain to them why my arms looked the way they did. And then explain to them that, actually, I was not the only one of their daughters with this problem.

God, I needed the practice.

But Meredith was not there; only Zachary and Kelsey. "Hey, it's my main man," Zach said, "whassup dawg?" To which Brandon replied with affable sarcasm, "Zach, is it really too much to ask that you speak actual English?"

Kelsey laughed. "English? What choo talkin about, white boy? We be speakin American. English? 'Pip pip, top of the mornin, chap, cheerio.' American? 'Yo bitch, how's it hangin?'"

To which Zach replied, in British accent and total deadpan, "Wot is up, my homie?" To which I was helpless to keep from laughing. And just like that, the morning felt better.

"You know what?" I said. "It's really cool to have friends, for once, that I don't talk to through a computer."

"W0rd j0," Zach said, and just like that I was giggling again.

All too soon, though, the bell rang, and it was back to the same old routines. A few people stopped to fondle me on the way, and I thought, Finally, it's a little weird to have gone all the way to Thursday having never gotten felt up. But then, thinking back, I realized that people had felt me up—every day of the week, if you wanted to count Dr. Schlemmer's insane Psychology class on Monday. Today was simply the first time I was paying attention. Today was the first time I felt ready to do anything other than ignore it.

And it was good.

I mean, let's be honest. I lost my virginity at age fifteen and I liked it. I haven't had a lot of boyfriends, but I've been—well, the politically correct term is "free with my favors," but that's just a polite way of saying "easy." Brandon says that political correctness is simply about using as many words as possible to describe something, and I think he's right. But that's neither here nor there—I like sex. It's fun, it's tasty, it's enjoyable; and when I agreed to go into The Program, it was because I figured people might actually fondle me. Or maybe do other things. Nobody had whipped out their cocks yet, but if someone did, I wouldn't mind. Though I hadn't quite expected a Program week like this one.

So, the fondling made things better. Zach and Brandon and Kelsey made the day better. The person who made it good... Was Derek. Derek Strong, grinning at me as I walked into the only class we share together (third period Current Events), tall and grinning and looking appallingly like Ben Savage with the way his hair curled and the cast of his features, and suddenly my little corner of the world was a lot brighter. He's such a great friend. He was so supportive yesterday. I don't think I could've made it through the day without him.

He followed me to the normal meeting place on the north side of Stetsen, where Brandon, at least, greeted him like a long-lost friend. Sajel and Zach and the others, taking their cues from him, were receptive; and within a few minutes, Derek and Brandon and Zach, together, had just about everyone in stitches. Poor Meredith, missing out on all this—she didn't know where to find us!

"So, what'd I miss," Sajel asked. "What'd we miss. We haven't seen either of you since this time yesterday, since you disappeared during lunch." Zach and Tim and Kelsey watched with eager faces.

Brandon and Derek and I exchanged glances. What had happened? Oh boy.

Brandon went first. "Well, the first thing that happened was I broke up with Jane. Right there at break." He shrugged. "There just... Wasn't any point to it."

"Then," I said, "at lunch, we—"

"Whoa whoa whoa," Kelsey said, "you broke up with Jane? Say more. Explain."

Brandon and Derek said, quite simultaneously, "Hey, that rhymed." They traded amused glances while Kelsey made an ostentatious show of rolling up her sleeves and deliberating who to punch first.

"No, let us finish," I said. "There's a lot that happened. Let us tell you everything. Then you ask questions."

We went through it all, starting from the beginning of the day for Kelsey's and Zach's benefit, who hadn't seen my mother's crusade through the halls of the school, determined to knock me out of The Program. Brandon covered his speech in English class, which Kelsey and Tim and Derek applauded vocally, and then translated the gist of his schism with Jane. Skipping Steve and Shannon, I next explained my Internet adventures at lunch, which drew murmurs of shock from Sajel, Tim and Kelsey. Derek joined in when we got to dinner, but both he and I fell away for Brandon's solo explanation of what exactly had passed between him and Meredith. (This was the first time any of us heard for certain what had gone on.) The events in the assembly and Tegman Room were next, culminating finally in the one thing we really needed Meredith for: an explanation of what had gone on between Brandon and I last night.

Zach was our savior. We had to compact sixteen dense, eventful hours into a twenty-minute recess period, and he kept yelling, "Hurry up, get to the point!" At first, Sajel tried to shush him, but he defended himself successfully: "Break's half over and they haven't even had dinner yet!" At which point she started hurrying us along too. We managed to cover it all, though only barely, before the bell rang.

"Jeez," Sajel yelled as we packed up. "That was one day? You guys could make a movie out of it!"

Ain't that the truth, I thought to myself.

Th .2

The first time we saw Meredith that day was fifth period Psychology. And that class in itself was quite a mess. Dr. Schlemmer evidently felt we'd exhausted everything there was to say about depression (you won't hear me complaining), because he shifted us back into human sexuality. Specifically, he wanted a living, breathing (moaning) demonstration of the sexual response cycle. And since I was Brandon Chambers, naked in school—or, perhaps more pertinently, Brandon Chambers, exhibiting his cock in school—Dr. Schlemmer wanted to use me as his first example.

Okay, maybe you will hear me complaining.

Obviously, this made sense. After all, it's much harder to see the visual signs of the female response. Women have... what?—secretion of lubricants, increased blood flow to the vulval area, distended and spread labia, engorgement of the clitoris... Yeah, you can see that in an intimate, one-on-one environment (for instance, when you're going down on her), but thirty people, crowding around, jostling for a glimpse of Arie's pussy? That just wasn't going to work. In comparison, I could just stand there at the front of the classroom with my dick sticking out, and when the time came, everyone could just watch me let fly. So, no, it's not that I think Dr. Schlemmer was making some sort of logistical mistake.

It's that Dr. Schlemmer has clearly never stood in front of thirty staring people and attempted to develop an erection. It is not exactly easy. When one is blushing furiously, after all, it's very hard for blood to rush in the more proper direction, no matter how frantically (or feebly) one is fingering one's prick.

After a few minutes of fumbling around, during which I was more embarrassed than I have ever been in my life, Dr. Schlemmer finally took pity on me. "Maybe we had better consider this an occasion of relief," he said. "Would someone like to volunteer?"

A number of girls (and one or two guys) raised their hands, but my eyes were drawn instantly and uncontrollably any choice to the girl sitting to Arie's right, sitting calmly upright, her hand in the air and the coolest of smiles on her face, the barest of suggestive twinkles in her eyes. Her eyes—those strange, dark eyes that looked so large against her pale skin and golden hair.

I couldn't, it would be totally unfair—she didn't yet know what Arie and I had done, we hadn't been able to tell her. It would be like lying to her. It would be like cheating on her. And yet in my heart I knew—having seen her offer, there was no one else I could pick.

Noise came out of my throat in a dry croak. I swallowed. "Meredith."

She rose and moved between me and Arie. When I could see Arie again, she was staring in purest disbelief.

I couldn't tell her now; that just wouldn't fly. Part of me wanted to anyway, in the interests of fair play—in the interests of keeping her good will. I didn't like to manipulate her like this. But all I did was catch her by the shoulders and say, low so that no one else could hear, "Are you sure about this? The first time you're gonna do this is in front of the whole class?"

She smiled at me. "If I wasn't, I wouldn't've volunteered." She kissed me on the nose. "Now let me get to work."

Her eyes were deep and clear, the kind a man could get lost in and never return from. A smile curved the sides of her pale pink lips. Her cheeks were dusted with a light, sparse coating of pale freckles that brought out the faint rosiness of her skin. Her fine gold hair, loose in a cloud around her head, shone under the fluorescent lights. That unmistakable sparkle hovered in her eyes, in the quirky lift of one eyebrow, promising mischief, promising experience.

As she sank down to her knees before me, I blurted out without thinking: "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life."

Some of the class whooped. Some of the class Aww-www'ed. Meredith gave me a heart-melting smile. Arie just looked vaguely sick.

At first nothing happened, despite the gentle pressure of hands on my cock. I was scared. She still didn't know what Arie and I had done (and not done), I still didn't know how she'd react... She didn't know, in essence, whose cock it was she was currently stroking, her fingers sliding deft and gentle across its surface, over the head and shaft and underside. Would she have volunteered if she did no? And if the answer was No, how would she feel later, having discovered in retrospect?

It made me feel sick to my stomach. She'd hate me. That was the simple answer. This, as well as the first, might be the last time I'd ever feel her touch my cock.

But with that thought came a strange clarity, and a single overriding impulse: Well, kiddo, if that's the way it goes, then you'd better enjoy it, eh? Enjoy it while it lasts.

"Oooh," Meredith breathed as my cock swelled under her fingers.

Standing far to my left, Dr. Schlemmer began narrating. I had actually forgotten he was there. "Finally found your on switch? Got the safety released? I've heard of erectile dysfunction, but this is really— Sorry. The first stage of sexual response is called excitement, and the most important thing that happens, in both sexes, is that things start to puff up. You can see Brandon's penis getting engorged right now; if he were a woman, it would be his nipples stiffening instead, and his vulva (otherwise known as pussy lips) would become engorged as well. An interesting secret to human sex organs is that they're all powered by blood. Clitoral and penile erection, the engorgement of the labia, even the moisture a woman produces, are a result of increased blood flow. How you doing, Brandon?" he asked cheerfully.

"Uh," I said, my concentration momentarily broken. By simply listening to Dr. Schlemmer's monologue, I could block out some of the embarrassment. And a lot of the sensations. I felt a little bad shunting Meredith off to the side like that, but if not for the distraction, I might have gone off already. "I'm hanging in there. Think we're ready for the next stage?"

Someone yelled, "More like you're hanging out there," and there was a sputter of laughter.

"Unfortunately, no, there's still a couple more things to cover," Dr. Schlemmer said, not at all bothered by the sight of a naked student being fondled by a girl. "During the excitement phase, one's pulse and blood pressure rises, and generally one begins to breathe more deeply and quickly. And this one's important, guys: an unaroused vagina is not large enough to accept an erect penis. During the excitement phase, it lengthens and broadens, and the uterus moves upward to make more room. And often it takes quite a bit of stimulation before enough lubrication has been produced. So guys—take your time. Don't rush it. Both you and your partner will thank you.

"Now, plateau. That's the next phase, but really you can just think of it as 'more Excitement' and you'll get it right. The clitoris first—"

Around this time my eyes happened to fall upon Meredith's, and I found her looking up at me with one hand wrapped around my cock. Its head was about level with her mouth. Meeting my eyes, she licked her lips deliberately.

"Uh—" I murmured. "Maybe that's not such a good i—"

Then her lips were around the head of my cock. And if I thought I was close to going off earlier, that was nothing to now. Her mouth was warm and wet, and her tongue covered the tip of my cock like a blanket.

"Slow down!" I hissed. "He's not ready yet!" Meaning the teacher. Meredith, without taking my cock from her mouth, gave me a quirk of an eyebrow, and then mercifully gave me a break.

"—and the uterus continues to move, opening more space. Now what's most interesting is the development of what is called the 'orgasmic platform.' In erotic fiction this is generally referred to as the ring of muscles at the mouth of the vagina. Now you know what it's actually called. It's not actually muscle though, just really really engorged tissue. Using this ring, the vagina can grip the penis during intercourse, instead of just being a container.

"Of course, all this complicated stuff only happens in women." He waved a careless hand in my direction. "Men just get harder. If anything changes at all." He raised his voice. "Are we about ready over there?"

Meredith let go of my cock to speak: "Why, is something wrong?"

"Well, the next phase is orgasm, we sort of need a demonstration," said Dr. Schlemmer. "Brandon, how about you turn this way—there—so that people can see you from the side. Anyone want to guess how far he shoots?"

I felt really embarrassed, like a carnival sideshow or anything. You'd think I'd be used to it, because of my scars; but, strangely enough, the fact that involved something other than my scars, only made it worse.

But Meredith looked up at me with those beautiful eyes of hers, and took my hand and squeezed it. And I thought: If she is with me, I can do anything.

"Okay, you two," Dr. Schlemmer said, "whenever the urge comes up."

Meredith used her hand; if they wanted to see how far I would go, using her mouth would probably be counterproductive. Dr. Schlemmer continued to narrate: "Orgasms in general are characterized by strong muscular contractions all through the reproductive tract. In men, this pushes sperm and semen out of their various—"

"Are you ready," Meredith asked me.

"Any second now," I grunted, and she kissed the nearest part of me available—in this case, my left thigh.

"—in women, these contractions start at the uterus and ripple on downwards. They are also characterized by intense awareness of one's body in general and one's genitals in particular. Pulse rate, blood pressure—"

Her hands was wrapped around my shaft, moving up and down at a steady pace. The wetness of her mouth was lubrication enough. Each movement sent ripples of pleasure through me, joining that common store deep in my loins that was gradually building up, gradually overflowing, gradually boiling over to burst out of—

I not sure what I said—something like "Ouf" or "urgh" or "ungph"—but it got everyone's attention. Dr. Schlemmer trailed off as I went off—one squirt, two squirts, three, four—each arcing through the air to puddle on the floor. Me, I was in orbit somewhere, delirious with release, as my hips twitched and my knees shook and Meredith knelt at my side, her hand resting on my hip, her eyes on my face the anchor I grasped at to bring me safely down.

"The last phase is called resolution," said Dr. Schlemmer. "Basically, everything that has happened, un-happens. Anything engorged flattens out again; anything tense smoothes out; anything that has gotten fast, slows down; and so on and so forth. Brandon, are you all right? Would you like some assistance in getting back to your seat?"

"I think I'll be fine, thanks," I gasped, tottering.

"And let's hear it for Ms. Levine," Dr. Schlemmer said, seizing Meredith's hand and holding it aloft. Everybody clapped and whistled and cheered.

And looking at her as she stood there, being applauded for her sexual prowess, looking pleased and a little shy but not ashamed, I was struck by how lucky I was to have her in my life, and hoped with all my might that Arie and I had not destroyed things by being friends in need.

When the bell rang, Arie got to her first. Which makes sense, considering they sit within arm's reach of each other. She threw me this Leave us alone look and scurried off with the other people heading off to find their lunches, her arm through Meredith's, their heads bent together. And I shrugged and went to go get some food.

But I had barely joined Derek and Sajel and Zach and the others at the usual place at Stetsen when Meredith appeared. I was sitting on the ground with my back to the wall and she towered over me. "Can we talk?"

We wandered the halls for a minute, not really saying anything, waiting for someone else to broach the subject. I think both of us were a little bit scared of hearing what the other had to say—sure, it might be something we'd like hearing, but what if it wasn't? What if this beautiful, awesome creature beside me (whom I was falling for way too fast) was going to open her mouth and say, No, I'm sorry, I can't take it, you suck, goodbye. I mean, God, we haven't even been on a date yet. But if she said that...

"Look," I said, "maybe we had just better get this over with."

"Will you tell the truth," she asked.

"Always," I told her.

"All right. What happened?" "Last night?" "Yeah." "What did Arie say?" "I'm not going to tell you. That way if you two have different stories, you won't know where you're contradicting each other."

I smiled. "Wise girl. All right. Last night, after we dropped off Derek, Arie wasn't... She was in a bad mood. She said she didn't want to be alone. And my house is perfect for that, since there are no parents around. Originally I had her set up in a sleeping bag in my room, but she wanted to move into my bed.

"You have to understand, this was eleven at night. And it'd been a really long day. First I was happy, then I was sad, then I was happy, then I was sad... You can run fifty miles and heartache still makes you feel worse. We were tired, we were worn out, she wanted the company, and I can't say I would've turned it down either. But I didn't want anything to happen—anything... sexual... I mean—" My God, who thought it'd be so hard to say that to her? "—and I made sure she wasn't planning some sort of seduction or something. At least, she said she wasn't, who knows what she says without meaning it, but she was so tired... I don't think she could've seduced me without, like, falling asleep, or bursting into tears or something."

"So Arie is... Your friend?"

"My friend. A close friend. As important to me as Zach or Sajel or you. But just that. We tried the lovers thing on Tuesday, and it didn't work out so well."

Meredith stiffened slightly. "She didn't tell me that."

Uh-oh. I hope I wasn't about to get Arie in trouble, because there wasn't exactly a choice now, I'd have to plow through it. "She's probably still not okay with it. You saw her on Tuesday, she was really hyper—manic, almost—and she decided that I'd been such a gentleman on Monday, that she ought to thank me."

"By seducing you."

"By seducing me. Only, later, she realized what a mistake it was." I sighed. "And came in yesterday with fresh cuts on her arm."

Meredith hissed sharp indrawn breath.

"Yeah," I said. "That was Wednesday's first emotional downswing."

"Is that normal for her?" "What, the cutting?" "No, the... The sex. When most people want to say thank-you, they just send a Hallmark card."

"I dunno," I said. "Honestly, I haven't thought about it. Any ideas?"

"One, actually," Meredith said. "Maybe... Maybe she was testing to see if you were attracted to her."

"Well, she got her answer," I said, feeling a bit uncomfortable. "It's a little hard to, you know, get all stiff and ready if you're not physically attracted to the girl—"

"No, not like that," Meredith said. "If I were naked, you'd be stiff in a hurry." She giggled. "Well, even if I wasn't naked." And reached down to finger my hard-on, which had surged precipitously at the very idea.

"That's not very conducive to conversation," I said.

"All right, all right," she sighed, grinning, and relented. "Maybe she was trying to figure out if you were attracted to her... What, emotionally, I guess. Not just physically. You have a bit of that knight-in-shining-armor thing going, Brandon. And you like that about yourself. Don't deny it, you may be blushing but you're grinning too. And the truth is, every girl dreams about having her knight in shining armor fall in love with her." She gave a soft giggle. "Unless she's a militant feminist, of course, at which point she just kicks him in the et cetera."

"Well, I'm glad Arie didn't do that!" I laughed.

"So am I," Meredith said. "No one gets to kick you in the nuts except me."

"Oh-hhh, is that a threat," I replied haughtily. "I'll have you know that ever since that incident on Tuesday, I've gotten—uh— I've gotten very adept at being saved by Steve Proust. If you try it, you might find yourself in a world of hurt, young missy."

"Steve Proust, eh," Meredith said, laughing. "So he's your knight in shining armor? Going to try and trip him into bed or something?"

"Gah! Steve? Are you kidding? Did you see how much hair he has! Too much testosterone for my liking!"

Somewhere along the line we had turned to face each other, and we were grinning and smiling and laughing and standing very close to each other. And then we weren't laughing so much—just sort of staring, worried and curious and unsure.

And then our lips were touching, and the only thing I could feel was the nearness of her body, the gentle touch and taste of her breath, her cheek pressed against mine, the way our shoulders bumped against each other as we fumbled, not quite sure what we were doing—only knowing that we wanted it.

I opened my eyes. Her face was near, her eyes wide and serious on mine. Her mouth was open slightly and I could feel the whisper of her breath. Her tongue flicked out once and slipped over her lips.

I drew her close to me and kissed her again.

Sajel was yelling, "Get a room, you guys!" Really loud, of course, to cover the twenty or so yards between them and us. And I could hear Kelsey and Zach and Tim whooping, and Derek and Arie laughing, and other people laughing and whistling as they walked by, and Meredith broke away from me and giggled, and I knew that we had only made one tactical error in all of this: standing somewhere where Sajel could see us.

We walked back to them hand in hand. Arie was practically glowing. "Oh my God guys you are so cute! You had no idea how bad I felt! I was like, you know, 'What if I totally ruined that!'"

I laughed. "Well, I think I'd feel pretty bad if you'd ruined that too!"

"So, Brandon," Zach was saying. "This is who again? Unless you've suddenly developed the habit of yanking random girls off the street and kissing them..."

"Come on, this is Brandon, he's asked for relief how many times," Sajel replied.