Chapter 13: Freshman Shirley

The path was narrow and covered with eggshells. They were everywhere I tried to walk. I couldn't take a step without hearing the crunching sound beneath my feet. They were getting deeper and the noise was becoming louder. I tried everything, jumping, running and finally stopping to look at the sea of eggshells all around me. I was standing still, not moving at all, but the crunching sound was deafening.

"Sammy?"

The crunching sound was talking to me.

"Sammy?"

"Go away. I'm not walking on you. Stop crunching."

"Sammy, are you having a nightmare?"

I recognized the touch before I opened my eyes. "Becky?"

"Sammy, wake up."

Expecting to see Becky on the path of eggshells, I opened my eyes.

Shirley looked just as stunned as me. She withdrew her hand from my bare shoulder, quickly, like she had been burned.

We looked at each other, questioning. I was trying to get my bearings, still bewildered at not seeing Becky and Shirley must have been horrified by the look on my face. She recovered before me.

"You were fighting a dragon," she said, standing up to give me space to get out of bed.

"It was a giant chicken," I said, finding my pants and putting them on before heading to the bathroom.

She didn't get a chance to question me about the dream until later that evening. We sat with the other members of the group at breakfast and our roommates were around when we moved my computer from her room to mine.

By the time we got my computer set up, the room was too crowded with roommates and their girlfriends for us to talk about anything as personal as my dream. Kent was there, challenging me to a tennis match and naturally Tracy was with him. We sat around talking about how we thought we had fared on the second quarter exams and what we expected the upcoming quarter to bring.

At one point I looked at Shirley and saw her finger making a line from her neck, down to the center of her chest and back up the other side. I smiled, knowing she was pointing to where the locket was resting against her bare skin, under her sweater.

I played like shit! At first I blamed my poor play on the uneven surface of the court we were on. It was old concrete that had cracked over the years. The ball took erratic hops and tripping on a crack was always a possibility. The cracks presented new frustrating challenges that took the fun out of the game for me.

Second, the crowd watching us had me rattled. Especially Tracy, who didn't understand how difficult it was to return a serve that sprayed off in an unpredictable direction at the last second.

But, what was really causing me mental unrest had nothing to do with the court's surface or the heckling. It was what I had done between midnight and two am and how Shirley would take it when I told her. Not telling was not an option; I couldn't even try to deceive her. I'd turned over a new leaf, hadn't I?

Kent was born with a racket in his hand. At least, that's how I imagined his baby picture. His tennis instincts were excellent, his serve was deadly and his long arms and legs allowed him to play the entire court with ease. I decided that singles wasn't my game when he won the first set six games to two.

Tracy never let up, praising her 'boyfriend's' superior play and cutting me down with disparaging remarks. Shirley smiled at me and pointed to the place on her chest where the locket resided. I wondered if she would ever look at me that way again after I told her what I had done with Wanda.

Other players showed up and we teamed up to take them on, playing doubles. And even though my mind was elsewhere we were able to stay on the court all afternoon. I had something to play for. The longer we remained on the court the longer I could put off telling Shirley about my night before with Wanda.

Everyone went back to the room with us so Kent and I could shower before dinner. I heard the phone ring but didn't think anything about it, knowing that Charlie or Skip would answer it.

I only stayed in the shower long enough to clean the sweat off because Kent needed to shower after me. When I came out of the bathroom I noticed how quiet everyone was. At first I thought it was because I was only wearing boxers and the girls were embarrassed. But I was wrong.

"That was weird Wanda," Tracy said, tauntingly.

"Where's Shirley?" I asked, disregarding Tracy's smug smile.

"She said she wasn't hungry." Tracy informed me.

I was getting dressed as fast as I could but overheard Angie trying to quiet Tracy, to no avail.

"They talked for a long time," Tracy said to me as I ran out of the room.

Shirley spoke to me through her door, which I almost knew was locked from the inside.

"I was going to tell you when we were alone tonight," I said, finding talking to the door very uncomfortable, not knowing if she was still on the other side or if she had retreated to the bathroom.

"She wanted to know if you were rested up from last night."

"What?" I asked as I sunk to the floor. Tracy had said they talked for a long time. Why was Shirley choosing to tell me about Wanda's concern for my lack of sleep? Why wasn't she asking me if I was tired from fucking Wanda silly?

"What's wrong, Sammy? Why are you sitting down there?"

I looked up to see Shirley standing in the doorway, buttoning her shirt. She had changed from jeans to a skirt and shirt with the locket showing now.

"I was going to tell you about it tonight, honest. A promise is a promise."

"You're beginning to scare me. I know you must be tired from the afternoon of tennis but that's no reason to talk gibberish."

"It's not gibberish. What did she tell you about last night?"

"She was just asking if we had a good time. She wanted to talk to you before she went back to school. I told her you were in the shower. She said she'll call you next Saturday."

"Marcy?"

"Of course it was Marcy. Who did you think... who... what were you going to explain to me about last night? Sammy, do you have something to tell me?"

"Tracy said it was Wanda and that you talked to her for a long time. I thought..."

"You do have something to tell me, don't you? Does this have anything to do with your nightmare?"

I nodded. I had plenty to tell her but I hadn't connected it to the nightmare.

Shirley sat down next to me, leaned against the wall and held the locket between her fingers. She didn't interrupt me and I only stopped talking twice when one of her roommates walked by. I guess they could see that we were discussing something serious and didn't stop or try to eavesdrop.

"It began with me telling Wanda how to dress. I thought she needed some guidance and she seemed to like me telling her what to do. I thought I was helping her by telling her to stop painting her fingernails weird colors. I helped her select a new wardrobe and got her away from wearing only black clothes. I complimented her about the way she looked and took her places to prove that she could dress conservatively and still draw attention.

"Drawing attention is important to her; she craves it. I believe I became important to her because I paid attention her and gave her orders. She said she wished she had a brother and I thought that was how she looked at me. I saw her mother when I went home for the wedding and she even told me that I was helping her daughter.

"I guess that I became drunk with power and began giving Wanda orders that didn't pertain to how she dressed or what color she could paint her nails."

I stopped talking, wondering if I dared continue. Was it necessary that I divulge everything? Shirley's look told me that I had to tell everything.

"I told Wanda that I wasn't partial to pubic hair."

There was no reaction from Shirley. She looked down at the locket, holding it between her fingers. Did she hear me?

"Wanda must have wanted to please me but she said she couldn't shave herself. I offered to shave her and told her to give herself a close trim while I was away. When I got back from the wedding she reminded me that I had promised to shave her and when I told her I couldn't make it until late last night she said 'late is good.'

"I decided not to do it. I went to my room after our date and got into bed. But I couldn't sleep. I told myself, 'a promise is a promise.'"

Shirley glanced at me but only for a second. Her eyes darted back to the locket.

"While I was shaving her I found out that she'd had designs on me for a long time. She even started taking the pill in anticipation that we would have sex. She kept telling me to touch her, saying that she liked to be surprised and that it felt good. By the time I was finished shaving her I had an erection. Her roommate kept coming into the bathroom to check on her and I thought I could shock her into leaving us alone by getting naked. Well, my plan backfired. Once D.B. saw my cock she wasn't about to leave."

"Is D.B. a person?"

"Yes, that's the nickname I gave her roommate because she has dirty blond hair."

"Her roommate saw you naked?"

"As I said, my plan backfired and I guess I wanted to show off. I tried something else to shock D.B. into leaving and that backfired too."

From the way Shirley was watching me I knew I had to continue with the story. She was curious and wouldn't settle for anything less.

"I told myself that I felt sorry for Wanda but I was really horny and showing off. I picked her up and told D.B. that I was going to eat Wanda's pussy and fuck her silly."

Shirley closed her eyes and dropped the locket. It took what seemed like two minutes to fall to her chest. She opened her eyes and looked at me, questioning.

"Did D.B. watch you have sex with Wanda?"

"Yes."

She picked up the locket and stared at it for several seconds, like it held the key to a puzzle.

"Tell me about the nightmare."

"Aren't you... aren't you angry with me? You still want to hear about the nightmare after everything I've said?"

Her tone showed no passion, whatsoever. "I believe it's important that you describe the nightmare while it's fresh in your mind."

There was something disturbing about the way she spoke. It was almost clinical, dispassionate, like she was a casual observer. Why was she still talking to me?

"Am I one of your subjects for a paper? Is that all I am to you?" I asked, feeling a hard pebble land in the center of my chest.

"I don't know what you are to me, Sammy. But I do know that you need to talk about the nightmare and while I'll admit that it interests me from the human behavioral aspect, I do care about you and want to help."

"But you're being... you're completely devoid of passion. Don't you feel anything?"

"This isn't about me, Sammy. It's about you. Sometime, after we get to know one another better, we'll talk about me but right now... let's not."

Shirley had a way of holding my attention in a way that told me she was being sincere. Her grey eyes said more than her words ever could. I trusted her.

"I was walking down a narrow path, trying to get away from something when I started to see eggshells. At first I thought it was raining eggshells but they weren't falling out of the sky. I couldn't tell where they were coming from. The path was covered with them and there was no way to avoid walking on them. They made a crunching sound that kept getting louder and louder. I walked faster, trying to get away from the crunching sound. Then I started running and the sound got louder. I stopped in my tracks but the sound..."

Shirley placed her hand on my shoulder, the same place I had felt Becky touch me before I awoke that morning. The touch was the same only this time my shoulder was covered by my shirt and it wasn't Becky touching me.

"I guess you lovebirds know the cafeteria just closed?"

We looked up to see Tammy standing above us, a mocking curl at the corner of her mouth.

"We're not hungry," Shirley curtly informed her roommate.

I was hungry but I wasn't going to dispute what Shirley had said. Tammy breezed past us into their room. Shirley reached back and swung the door closed.

"Have you had similar nightmares before?" Shirley asked, resuming our conversation.

"I've had dreams where I thought something was chasing me, but never anything like the eggshells."

"What do you think it means?"

"Does it have to mean something?"

"It's interesting to think about what it means, isn't it?"

"Are you really not hungry? Want to go get something to eat?"

She hesitated for a full minute before answering. "I guess so," she smiled.

I couldn't believe my luck. She wasn't angry with me. I had been truthful with her, explained how it happened that I had sex with Wanda, and Shirley was acting like it didn't matter to her.

She grabbed her coat and told Tammy that we were going out for a while.

We found a diner open in town and ordered hamburgers, French fries and milk.

"My sister works in a place like this," I said to make conversation, hoping that she wouldn't bring up the nightmare again or want more details about Wanda.

"I worked one summer in a place like this," she said.

"I can't picture you working in a place like this."

"It was three summers ago. I only did it for experience. Since then I've been a waitress in a fancy restaurant where the tips are better."

"Is this where we know one another better and we talk?" I asked, hopefully.

She smiled. "We haven't gotten there yet."

"But there's hope?"

"There's hope," she smiled and I was almost sure I saw a twinkle in her grey eyes.

I was becoming suspicious. Why wasn't she angry with me? I couldn't understand why she had accepted my screwing Wanda. Somehow, I knew it would be a long time before I would learn what made Shirley tick but I was content to wait and find out. I didn't pursue the reasons for her gentle nature. I was content to have her as my companion.

With school resuming our routine changed. She always sat next to me at breakfast and always wore the locket in plain view. I wouldn't see or hear from her again until ten pm, after we closed our books. She would often knock on my door or call and ask if I wanted to take a walk with her. The walks were short, just long enough to review our day. If I had received mail I told her who it was from and what had been written. She often reminded me to write to Heather and to Karen although she didn't know about the three remaining pips that we took so seriously. Those walks and our goodnight kisses were the highlight of my day. I anticipated her light tap on my door or the phone calls. I limited my running to weekends.

Friday nights were reserved for Wanda; Shirley insisted upon it, saying it was my duty to honor my father. I took Wanda to dinner or to see a movie, turned down her invitations to come inside and fought off the temptation to succumb to her rather explicit offers. When she whined about me being distant I told her that I had turned over a new leaf. Wanda said she would turn over a new leaf too. "Maybe our leaves will turn together," she quipped.