Chapter 93

I'm afraid I didn't get a whole lot out of History. I spent most of the period trying to figure out what was wrong with me. Here I had a girl I was in love with, who I lived for, who loved me back. More than I deserved. She loved and loved and loved, always giving, always trying to make me happy. And yet I got this tremendous chip on my shoulder and made her cry, when all she wanted was to give and demonstrate her love once again.

I decided it was a combination of things that pissed me off. Somehow I felt threatened, like something had been taken away from me when she started planning out the apartment and its furnishings. And when she started talking to Sara and my sister, pulling them into it, I felt like I'd lost all say in how things were going to be. And then she spent time with them instead of going to bed when I wanted to.

I looked back at the way she'd been as we were walking through the apartment and then how she was when the girls came up. Jill had been through hell since we discovered her father and her best friend in bed together. And her father ignoring her the when she spent her afternoon helping his new girlfriend learn to cook was just one of the things that had made her feel worse.

She had been vibrant as we walked through the apartment and she planned where we were going to put things. Because, the planning wasn't for her; it was for us. She was envisioning a life together in that apartment. Whether we lived there full time or not hadn't been determined yet. When the project started, she was going to spend time there on weekends. But her father had other things going on now, and it might be more agreeable to him for her to move in with me.

Whether or not she lived there full time or on the weekends, she was building a place for us. Nothing had ever been said about me being involved in the planning. For or against me being involved. Many guys wouldn't want to have anything to do with it. Others would want to work with their girlfriend and plan it out, or at least say they wanted a blue bedspread instead of the pink one she had planned. If it bothered me to have her take it over completely, all I needed to do was tell her I wanted to be part of it and she'd be thrilled. Instead, I got hurt because she was interested.

And if I'd told her I wanted to be involved, I'm sure she would have been dragging me around as she told the girls what we were going to do. And instead of "The computer can go there and the TV there," it would have been "What do you think about putting the computer there and the TV there, Honey?" And any discussion over hot chocolate would have included me with Jill grinning like a fool, holding onto my arm, her face smooshed against me.

So, the first time in weeks that Jill was enthusiastic, happy even, I made her cry shortly after she came to bed. Right after she told me she had been practicing swallowing a banana and wanted to demonstrate her new-found skill on my dick. Talk about a dick. It takes some real love for a girl to choke herself repeatedly so she can please her guy in a new way. And my response was to make her cry.

I paid more attention in class the rest of the day but I still thought about my behavior the night before. I wasn't very proud of myself.

Sara and Chris sat down with me at lunch.

"What's up, Jack? You don't look too hot."

"Hey, Chris. Just thinking about what an ass I was last night."

"To Jill?"

"Yup. Made her cry."

"Oh, Boy. Been there, done that. One word. Flowers."

"Really? Do you think she'd like that?'

We both looked at Sara when she snorted.

Chris continued, "Yeah, she'll like it. Play your cards right and you may get lucky."

That got him a slap on the arm. But I noticed she was smiling as she did it.

On the way over to John's house, I stopped off at a florist. Let's face it, it was John's house these days. Jill was more a guest than a member of the household. Fortunately, I happened to get waited on by a woman who was probably about 35 or 40. Her name tag said she had the same name as my mom, as did the shop. I asked her if she owned it and she told me she did. I said I was surprised she worked there if she owned it and she told me that she had worked in her shop for years and had just recently turned the day to day stuff over to someone else. She was covering for someone who was out sick. She looked fairly well along in her pregnancy; she told me she was expecting twins in late February.

She finally brought me back to the reason I came in and I told her I wanted a big floral arrangement. She pointed out some posters on the wall and asked if any of them were what I had in mind. I saw one that had exotic flowers of all different colors. Orchids, bird of paradise, some Hawaiian varieties. She smiled and said that would be more appropriate for a fiftieth anniversary than for a young guy like me.

"Are you in the doghouse with your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"How do you two feel about each other the rest of the time?"

"We're madly in love with each other."

"How often do you get her flowers?"

"Uh, I never have."

"Well, if you spend $210 on that arrangement, I'm afraid it's going to overwhelm her. What do you want to say with the flowers?"

"Just that I love her and I was a fool."

"OK. I think I can come up with something. Why don't you look around for a while and I'll go in the back room and put something together for you. I assume price is no object."

"I have some money. I was planning on spending it on her birthday next week. It's going to be kind of a special day for us. But I guess this is more important."

"I see. Well, look around. I won't be long."

She wasn't long at all. Maybe three minutes. My first thought was she couldn't have done much in that time.