Chapter 1: Winter 1994 (8th Grade)

This is the story of my life. I can't honestly say that everything written here is true, but a lot of it is. I've embellished a bit, but most of what has happened, the relationships, the sex, and the adventures, they really did happen to me. I've just added a little more flavor to make the journey through my past a little more enjoyable, for both you and me.

Like everyone else, my life has been full of ups and downs, but our story definitely starts in a down period. You see, when I was fourteen years old, my mother remarried. I wasn't exactly happy about the new man in her life, as for the past few years, I'd really been the only man in her life. Not to say I had any relationship with my mother other than the normal mother-son relationship. Maybe it was the fact that I just didn't get along with my new stepfather, Ray.

Maybe I'm being a bit too obtuse. So let's get the history out of the way. My name is Nathaniel, but everyone has always called me Nathan. My sister, Natalie, is six minutes older than I am, something she often teased me about — her being my older sister. We were born to fairly normal parents who lived a fairly normal life. When my sister and I were in 2^nd grade, our parents informed us that we were moving to Reno, Nevada so my mother could get her Doctorate at the university there. She was already a High School Biology teacher, but she wanted to make the move towards teaching at a college or university.

The next most significant part of history in our family actually requires that I go back a bit further, back to when my sister and I were just newborns. Neither of us really remembers this, but we've heard the stories countless times. We were not expected at all ... at least not both of us. My mother was so excited when she got her first sonogram and the doctor pointed out the healthy heartbeat and told her everything was going as expected. My parents planned on naming their firstborn after my father's grandfather, Nathaniel Crane.

When my mother went into labor and came into the delivery room, the doctor put my mother in the stirrups and said to my parents, "I've got bad news and good news."

My parents must have looked horrified, because the doctor laughed and said to them, "It's alright. The bad news is that you're presenting as a breach delivery, the good news is that I can see two feet, two left feet."

The confused looks on my parents' faces must have been hilarious to the doctor, "Folks, you're about to have twins." The doctor was unable to maneuver us into another delivery position, so my mother ended up having a cesarean section. Later, the doctor explained to my mother that the two of us were wrapped around each other.

On top of that, neither of us would sleep when we were first born, we would just cry and cry, until one of the nurses pushed our bassinettes together in the hospital, and suddenly we stopped crying. The same thing happened when our parents brought us home — we just wouldn't sleep in separate cribs. So for the first part of our lives, my sister and I shared a crib. Then when we were old enough to abandon the cribs, we shared a pair of twin beds, but nine times out of ten when our parents would wake us or check on us in the middle of the night, we'd be in one bed or the other, curled up together, fast asleep.

When my sister was twelve, this all changed. You see, one day we had a bedroom and a playroom in our three-bedroom home, the next day, we each had a bedroom. My parents wouldn't tell us why, but the next day my sister explained to me that she'd had something called a period. She told me it happened to all girls once a month and it meant that she was on the road to becoming a woman. But, she said, it also meant that mom and dad didn't want us sharing a room anymore.

For the first time in years, both of our grades slipped, we were always tired, and we really had trouble sleeping. But, over time, it passed. Then when we were thirteen, our father came home one day and started packing a bag. It seems he'd started having an affair with his secretary. Suddenly we were children of divorce.

After about a month or so, my father got an apartment and we started visiting him every other weekend. He was dating his secretary and we sometimes saw her, but he was very discrete about his relationship with her. When we stayed with him, she wasn't really around much. My father's apartment was three bedrooms, so we each had our own, but I do remember my sister suddenly started slipping into my room there at night and crawling into bed with me. I really didn't think anything much of it, I figured it was just because it was a strange place for both of us. We still slept in separate rooms at home, but every night we spent with our father, she always crawled into bed with me.