Chapter 1: Talking About Love

We were on our way back to school. Shirley seated next to me, wanting to discuss the meaning of love.

Shit! Why had I told her about Brenda's question and how I answered it? Admitting that I was in love with her was easy; telling her why was difficult, almost impossible.

She already knew much more about me than I knew about her. Getting to know me was an important part of our courtship and I had never resisted answering her questions. She knew the names of my friends and had heard about my past experiences, including most of my sexual exploits. She knew how I came by the two scars on my face and she had lived in my room at home for over two months. She could tell me things about my family that I didn't even know.

I thought I knew what made Shirley tick. Trusting others came hard for her, partly because she had been hurt once by a boyfriend and wanted to avoid a recurrence. Her reluctance to trust was also partly because of her early years when she lost her parents and had to live with an older sister. She wanted to avoid future losses, even if it meant avoiding close relationships.

Gaining her trust had taken patience but we were making steady progress. It could be charted on a graph, slowly moving upward as she tested me, gradually satisfying herself that I was worthy.

I could visualize the graph, beginning when I let her use my computer during the week of spring break and I received my first kiss from her. It eased upward with the telephone calls, our sitting together at breakfast, touching, and my disclosing things about myself that I hadn't even told Marcie.

The first test came the night we went to Wanda's house to deliver the news that her father had died and Wanda turned on us. Our trust prevailed and Shirley's goodnight kisses would always show up as a spike on the graph. It kept getting better. She went with me to drive Wanda home and that was the first night we slept in my bed. Sleeping in the same bed without having sex was another way she tested me. I must have passed because we continued that practice two nights a week after we got back to school.

Our two-month separation during the summer strengthened our trust and when I came home from California I was pleased to find a changed girl. It was Marcie's disapproval, calling Shirley a prude that convinced her to let me get to know her better. We started slowly, playing with each other to orgasm. Later in the week, she let me shave her pubic hair and even suck her nipples. Except for the golf glove on her left hand, we slept naked. The glove was a symbol. She didn't exactly say it but I understood that when the glove came off, my cock would go in.

We were on our way back to school and everything was going as planned. September the thirtieth, the day she had promised to come to the apartment early and stay all day, was over a month away, but we were ahead of schedule. I fully expected her to change the date when we would first have sex together.

And now I had to complicate things by admitting that I was in love with her.

Shirley abandoned her plan to read the papers to me that she had been working on. "Tell me about love," she said.

My mind hopped around like a nervous rabbit amidst a pack of wild dogs. What was she asking?

"It makes me feel good," I said, hoping she would consider my feeble answer totally inadequate and move on. Didn't she have some papers to read to me?

"By feel good, does that mean love is purely physical?"

"No, it's more than physical. Being in love makes me feel good all over. It makes me have pleasant thoughts."

"Are you saying that love is a state of mind?"

Was she serious? Was this a trick? I looked over at her. She was wearing shorts and her left leg was drawn up under her right leg, making her tanned knee look smooth and shiny. I had a desire to bend over and kiss it. Her inquiring eyes told me she was being serious. It was not a trick.

"I don't think so. When I'm near you I have trouble getting my mind to work. Even when we're not together and I think of you it gives me a warm feeling all over."

"Are you saying that love is strictly physical?"

"You're trying to trick me."

"No, I'm not, Sammy. I'm just trying to understand what made you decide you're in love with me."

"You're asking impossible questions. If I say its physical you'll take it to mean that I only want to have sex with you and you would be wrong. I'll admit that I want to have sex with you but that's only part of it. I like being with you and having you touch me. If that's strictly physical, I'm guilty."

She smiled, closed her eyes, "I'm guilty too."

We must have driven ten miles in silence, lost in our own thoughts.

"Talk some more. I like hearing you talk about love."

Her admission that she was guilty too bolstered my confidence.

"I like knowing you're my girlfriend. When we're apart and I'm lonely, I think of you and it's like you're touching me."

Shirley laughed. "There you go, thinking and touching, mixing mental and physical."

"I was talking about not feeling lonely when I think of you. I don't 'feel' lonely because I 'feel' your touch. There's nothing physical about it; it's all in the mind," I tried to explain.

"I see," she teased. "When we're together, it's physical and when we're apart, it's mental."

"Stop trying to make me explain it to you. I told you I can't think when you're near me."

She must have heard the frustration in my voice but she persisted.

"You tell Marcie you love her. Does she make you lose your ability to think when you're around her?"

"Marcie's different. I care for her and want her to be safe but she doesn't make my body tingle like you do."

Shirley took a deep breath and put her head back, like she was relaxing. "What you feel for Marcie is instinct, not love."

"I told you it's different with Marcie. I'd do anything to protect her from harm. I value her advice and I enjoy being with her. She's like a sister to me, maybe closer. That's love!" I declared.

"Animals instinctively protect their young. A mother lion will take on a larger beast with no chance of winning if her cubs are in danger."

"Are you saying a mother that jumps into a raging river to save her child is doing it because of instinct and not love?"

Shirley pondered my question for a few minutes before answering. "I'm saying its instinct first, love second. Risking her own life to save her child is done on impulse without thinking about it. Love she feels for her child is secondary."

"Are you saying love requires thought while instinct doesn't?"

"Did you give it any thought when you diddled Marcie?"

I gripped the steering wheel and checked the rear view mirror to make sure the trailer was still attached to the back of the car, trying to compose myself before even looking her way. "She asked me to do it and I guess I did it without thinking."

"You wanted to please her."

"Yes, I did it without thinking, just like I would dive off a cliff to save you."

"You also had oral sex with her. Did you think about what you were doing or did you do it to please her?"

A sentence formed in my mind, 'I didn't think; I just did it, ' but it didn't come out of my mouth that way. Shirley was half-grinning, half-serious. "Is this a trick?"

"It's not a trick. I have a theory that I'm trying to prove. Answer the question, please."

"I wanted to please Marcie. I suppose that was what I was thinking," I admitted.

Shirley nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. "Why didn't you have sex with her that day on the rock?"

"You know why. We've talked about this. I didn't think it would be a good idea because I didn't want to ruin what we had together."

"That's my point. You gave it thought before you decided not to have sex with Marcie."

"Yeah, I wasn't exactly truthful. She asked if I had rubbers with me and I said no, which was technically true. I didn't have them on me but there were some in my car."

"Wasn't that selfishness on your part?"

There was a serious, inquiring tone to her voice. What was she getting at? "Selfishness, how do you mean? I protected her," I stammered, looking straight ahead at the road.

"You say that you had oral sex because you wanted to please her but you didn't have intercourse because you were afraid that having sex would ruin your friendship. You denied Marcie pleasure in order to preserve your friendship. Wasn't that selfishness on your part?"

I was never so glad to see the mid-way point in our journey where we always stopped. It was only eleven-thirty but I wanted to have lunch. Shirley said she wasn't hungry but I think she needed a break from our discussion too.

Clara, the inquisitive waitress served us. At first, she was very apologetic. "I haven't seen you since I put my foot in my mouth," she said.

Shirley and I looked at each other and smiled, remembering the day we were driving Wanda home after her father's sudden death and Clara started to joke around before I told her that Wanda's father had just died. "No harm done," I assured her.

Clara smiled and walked away but since the restaurant wasn't busy she came back to our table often. I decided to have some fun with her.

"My girlfriend thinks I'm selfish," I began.

"Are you?" Clara asked, quite seriously.

"I don't think so but I'd like to hear your opinion," I said.

Clara shifted her weight from one foot to the other, thinking, I was sure, if she should walk away or stay and listen. She was too curious to walk away.

"Shirley's going to tell you why she says I was being selfish while I go to the men's room," I said, getting up without looking at Shirley.

When I looked back from the men's room door, Clara was sitting in my seat and Shirley was stating her case. When I got back to the table they were both laughing and blushing.

Clara got up and said she had to see to our orders. I sat down and looked at Shirley, who was still blushing.

"You did that on purpose," she accused me.

"I love to watch Clara blush. I didn't think it would affect you."

"Well, for your information, she agrees with me. You were selfish."

Clara came back with our sandwiches. "Do you really think I was being selfish?" I asked. "Marcie didn't actually ask me to have sex with her."

"It was implied," Shirley pointed out.

Clara shook her head. "A girl doesn't ask a guy if he has rubbers unless she wants him to screw her," she said, accusingly before walking away.

We began eating our sandwiches. "Did you tell her that Marcie was a virgin at the time?" I asked.

"Yes," Shirley said without hesitation.

Clara came back to our table, looking at me with disdain.

"Did she tell you about Colleen and Jeannie?"

"Yes, she told me."

"Did she you tell you that I hated doing it?"

"Yes, she told me they asked you to take their cherries and you did it. She also told me that Marcie's your best friend and you still refused her."

"I didn't refuse her. She didn't actually ask me to do it."

"You're definitely selfish," Clara said, walking away again.

My plan to have a little fun had backfired. Clara gave me some advice when I paid the check.

"I hope you don't make the same mistake with Shirley," she said.

"I didn't refuse Marcie. She didn't actually ask me to fuck her," I said for the third time, frustrated and close to losing my composure.

Clara didn't answer me. She shrugged, winking at Shirley.

Shirley was in a jovial mood when we resumed our journey. "See, I told you that you were selfish and you wouldn't believe me."

"Clara only heard what you wanted to tell her. She wouldn't agree if she heard how it really happened."

"I know how it really happened. Marcie told me everything, remember?"

My head swiveled to the right and she must have seen the shock in my eyes. I just looked at her, not saying anything.

"Give me your hand," she said, extending her left hand across the center console. I complied with her request, placing my hand in hers. "Please be patient with me; I just want to be sure this time."

We must have driven fifteen minutes without speaking, Shirley stroking my hand, lightly without restricting it in case I needed to withdraw it quickly. It sounded like Marcie had told Shirley that she would have liked it if I had taken her cherry. Damn! They both know I hate being a girl's first time. They both know of my fear that having intercourse with Marcie might destroy our friendship. Why did Shirley persist in saying I had been selfish?

"Do you think I'm being selfish?" Shirley finally spoke.

"No, why do you ask that?"

She gave my hand a final squeeze before releasing it. "I walk around naked in front of you and we sleep together without having intercourse. Do you think I do it to tantalize you? Do you think I'm being selfish?"

"You wear the glove," I corrected her.

She smiled. "You know what I mean."

"Seeing you practically naked is tantalizing but I don't think you're selfish. I understand that you're being cautious."

"Would you really dive off a cliff to save me?"

"What do you think?" I asked, looking at her.

"I think you would," she said.

We smiled at each other and I thought the conversation would change but Shirley wasn't finished with the subject of love.

"If you thought our having sex together would change what we have together would you still do it if I asked you to?"

What kind of question was that? "Yes," I said without considering the consequences.

"You would? Is that how you value what we have together?" she asked, sounding hurt.

I had a momentary flash of brilliance and smiled, "It could change things for the better."

Shirley looked at me, grinning when she realized that she had worded the question wrong. She had intended to ask if our having sex would ruin what we had, not change it. "I suppose it could change for the better. I hope it will."

We arrived at the apartment about three pm. I went into the dress shop to get the keys while Shirley began unloading the car. Aunt Olivia insisted on opening the door for us and we soon discovered why. She said she wanted to see the expression on our faces when we saw the fresh paint and how clean the apartment was.

We exclaimed when we stepped inside, making Aunt Olivia beam with satisfaction. The walls, woodwork and doors had been painted and the floor was spotless. Even the condition of the furniture looked much better than we remembered. The new mattress was on the bed but my computer stand and footlocker were missing.

"I can only give you three keys to the door. We have a city ordinance that says there can only be three unrelated tenants living here," Aunt Olivia informed us, apologetically, like she knew that we intended to have Charlie and Angie live there too.

"I'll have a room at the school, I mean, I haven't decided if I'll..." Shirley didn't finish the sentence. Aunt Olivia smiled, knowingly.

We had a list of things that needed to be done that afternoon and set about unloading the car and trailer.

Shirley's room at the school wouldn't be available until the following Thursday, so we stored her things in the apartment.

The nearest location to return the trailer was fifteen miles away. I stopped to use a payphone on the way.

First, we called my home so Shirley could inform Suzanne that we had arrived safely. Next, I called the telephone company to order a line and then I called Ollie to find out when we could stop by and pick up my computer stand and footlocker. He invited us to have dinner with them. I looked at Shirley to see her nodding her head, enthusiastically.