Looking Through the Lens
Chapter 7: Black Mountain Side

Copyright© 2006 to Ryan Sylander

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 7: Black Mountain Side - A summer vacation at the beach changes Matt’s life. His first relationship with a local girl is accompanied by a growing closeness with his oversexed sister. Secrets start interfering with his summer affair, even as he’s haunted by the face of a nameless girl he meets on the fishing pier. Despite his sister’s support, he finds that having a long-distance girlfriend isn’t easy. Through the influence of the women in his life, Matt begins to understand what it means to love someone.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Humor   School   Exhibitionism   First   Oral Sex   Voyeurism   Public Sex   Caution   Slow  

A pristine silence woke me up. I was lying on my back with my eyes closed, completely immobile and feeling nothing. Then my eyelids slowly opened.

The first thing I registered was a brightly lit, textured ceiling. It was very familiar, which I thought was most odd. The second thing I registered was a strange taste in my mouth. It was as if I’d slept with a pack of spearmint gum stuffed into my mouth. Another decidedly weird sensation. The third thing I registered was the sound of breathing. I was pretty sure it wasn’t my own, since I was surely dead.

I turned my head to the side, watching the world spin unsteadily into my field of view. Someone was lying next to me, her eyes closed. Apparently I was in my bed. A still coldness saturated the air, penetrating every nook of the negative space. The room was awash in brilliant white light. A splitting headache pounded its way into my awareness, as my senses woke up one at a time.

For being dead, I sure felt like crap. Not unlike being alive, I thought grimly. I sat up all at once. Almost instantly, Lara sprang up next to me.

“Oh my god! Matt, are you okay?”

She looked terrible! She was all red eyes, with crazy black hair sticking out every which way. I could see a great deal of snow outside. My eyes then slid to a crumpled piece of paper on my desk that seemed especially illuminated.

Am I still alive? The last thing I remembered was drinking continuously from the bottle of whiskey and then feeling a cold darkness.

“Where am I?” I asked, still somewhat confused.

Lara stared at me apprehensively. “In your room?”

I ignored her, as more memories started crashing in to my brain.

“How do you feel?” she asked tentatively.

“Like shit. What’s going on? Why are you here?”

All the events and thoughts of the previous night were still with me, bouncing around like ugly echoes. Apparently drinking yourself to death didn’t get rid of your problems, just as adults had always warned it wouldn’t.

“I ... I was watching you, and then I fell asleep.” Tears filled her eyes. “Matt, I’m so sorry about last night, if I knew that—”

I waved a hand at her and grimaced. “Stop, stop,” I said dismissively. “Why am I in my bed? How did I get here?”

Lara hesitated. “Last night, when I heard your door open, I thought maybe you were going to come talk to me,” she said, letting out a sniffle. “Then after a while you didn’t come, so I came out to see where you were. When you weren’t in your room, I thought maybe you went up to the cabin. There were some tracks outside, so I followed them.”

I rubbed my face uneasily. The realization that I was still alive was bearing down on me like a leaden weight.

“I found you lying by the stash, with a b-broken bottle in your hand.” Lara started crying again in earnest. “I thought you were dead,” she managed through a tight throat.

Me too. My stomach felt like a tempest.

“But you were still breathing,” she continued hauntingly, almost whispering. “So I made you throw up, until all the whiskey was out.”

“Okay, just stop. My head is killing me,” I muttered woozily.

I fell back to the bed again, gloomy and depressed. The movement proved too fast for me, because my head started pounding brutally. Lara cried quietly for a while. I vaguely wondered how she’d gotten me home, before drifting off into unconsciousness again.


The next time I awoke, Lara was sitting in a chair by my bed, watching over me with her red-streaked eyes. I stared at the ceiling indefinitely. I felt a little more alive, but I still had a giant headache.

“What time is it?” I asked, my voice detached.

“Nine-thirty,” Lara answered quietly.

“Aren’t we late for school?” For some reason, I wasn’t really worried about that thought, though.

“Cancelled.”

Oddly, one wish had come true at least. I wouldn’t have to ride the bus today. But reality was sinking in. Lara had saved me, for better or for worse.

“Here,” she said, holding out three Tylenols and a glass of water.

“What did our moms say?” I asked, as I swallowed the medicine.

“About what?”

“About me.”

“Nothing. They left an hour ago and won’t be back until late, as usual.”

“Well, didn’t they wonder why I was all fucked up?” I asked pointedly.

“They don’t know anything about it. I covered for you,” she explained, almost submissively.

“Couldn’t they smell the whiskey?”

“I put some toothpaste in your mouth and opened the windows early this morning.”

“Why?” I asked.

Lara was silent.

“Why did you do all this?” I asked again, picking at my comforter.

There was a long pause before she spoke. “I was scared for you. I didn’t want you to get in trouble, or get hurt. After ... After...”

Lara started crying again. I turned to look at her, feeling nothing. She regained some of her composure, but didn’t continue speaking.

“How did you get me back to my bed?” I finally asked.

Lara swallowed some sobs. “After I found you, I panicked. I tried to pick you up, but I could only sort of pull you a few feet at a time.”

“So you dragged me all the way back?” I asked, incredulous.

“No, I knew I couldn’t do that, so I got one of our old sleds and rolled you onto it, and then brought you back on that.” Lara shuddered visibly. “Then I managed to pull you up the steps and into your bed.”

Through the emptiness, I still marveled at her feat. She was lucky our parents didn’t hear her. Hell, I was lucky they didn’t hear her. That would’ve been a sight, Lara dragging my limp form in from the blizzard. Enough to make my mothers completely freak out, surely.

For a moment, I wondered what was wrong with me. How had it gotten to this? Then a glance at the crushed and crushing letter on the desk reminded me that most everything that was important to me was gone.

My girlfriend had cheated on me and dumped me, even as I’d trusted her and been faithful. My band mates thought I was some weirdo, and I probably wasn’t going to be skiing with them or Brian anytime soon. And worst of all, my own sister, whom I thought I could trust more than anyone, had kept something so unbelievably important from me.

There wasn’t much left right now.

“Matt?”

“What.”

“Why ... Why did you go out to the stash last night?”

I didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at the ceiling.

“Were you trying to hurt yourself?” she pressed. “Was it because of me?”

Choked sobs punctuated her questions. I rolled away from her and closed my eyes. Her crying drifted through my ugly dreams.


When I came to again, Lara had another glass of water for me. I sat up, drinking greedily. I felt almost human again. The headache was receding and my stomach was empty but relatively settled. It seemed that Lara had gotten to me before the alcohol had fully entered my system. And just as likely, I’d probably passed out from frigid exhaustion before I did any serious damage to the bottle or to myself. I was still desolate, though. I didn’t think anything would make that go away.

I sat up on the edge of my bed, acutely aware of my body. Lara watched me intently, but I avoided her look. After an eternal silence, Lara spoke.

“Matt, I’m so sorry about last night.”

I stood up before she even finished and walked out into the kitchen. Lara didn’t follow. I could hear her crying in my room, the sound diminishing with each step I took. A slight pang of pity started to well up in me, but then the emptiness squashed that feeling away as quickly as it had come. Fuck that.

I fixed myself a bowl of cereal and ate it quietly at the table, watching the snow continue to fall. At this rate, school might be cancelled another day. It would be wonderful if it snowed for a month straight, so that I’d never have to leave the house again.

As my breakfast dwindled into soggy remnants, I reflected on my situation. One thing that kept making me cringe was the realization that Brian had actually been right. I’d put all this effort into writing Julie, avoiding pursuing anyone else. Now it was starkly clear that it had all been a complete waste. Four months of pointless shit. I could just see him telling me that he’d told me so. I shivered with shame. It was going to be completely embarrassing when I had to let my friends know that it was over with Julie.

I was still sulking at my breakfast bowl when Lara emerged from my room and took a seat across the table from me.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” she asked meekly.

I sighed. “There’s nothing to say. Everything sucks, all right? My friends are all assholes, and Julie’s gone.” I left unsaid what I thought about her.

“Don’t say that,” she consoled. “You don’t know. Maybe Julie is just in a lull. I told you, she goes through phases.”

I stared at her with contempt. Her eyes were so incongruently hopeful. Of course... She had no idea what I was going through. Not all of it.

I chuckled as I made for my bedroom to fetch the letter. “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you!” I called out, disguising my voice with deceptive happiness. “Julie finally wrote!”

“Really?”

“Yup! And hey, you’ve been right all along!”

I tossed the wad onto the table. It rolled to a stop right in front of Lara. The optimistic look on her face turned apprehensive as she saw the crumpled state of the paper.

“She’s going through a new ‘phase’,” I spat. “Just like the last few phases. You know, the ones you never told me about?”

I didn’t wait for her to respond, nor for her to open it. I didn’t want to have anything to do with that poisonous paper again. Instead, I went out the back door, shutting it behind me. I stood for a long time in the yard, knee deep in the fallen snow. The large flakes all seemed to find the back of my neck, where they melted and ran down under my shirt collar. I didn’t care, though. The world felt completely detached.

I didn’t have to look back to know that Lara was reading the letter. I hiked up to the guest cabin, wondering what to do. Out of habit, I picked up my acoustic guitar and played as I’d never had before.


School was cancelled the next day as well. Over the course of those two days, I came to the conclusion that I was pretty much alone. If I couldn’t trust my girlfriend, my friends, or even my sister, then there wasn’t much point in trusting anyone else, ever again. I would just have to deal with that and move on.

I didn’t feel any urge to try drinking another bottle of whiskey, though. I was in control of my thoughts and body again. In retrospect, I was scared of what had happened that night. I didn’t want to go there again. Somehow a collection of bad events had reached the intersection at the same time and caused a terrible accident. But now the smash-up had been cleared, and there was just some broken glass on the pavement and some scrap metal in the dustbins.

Every time I saw Lara, she watched me with haunted eyes. Because I avoided her, she soon stopped trying to talk to me. There were a few inquiries about my mood from my mothers, when they saw that I wasn’t excited about the snowfall or the lack of school. I blamed it on band troubles and feeling like I was getting a cold. They didn’t press, but I could tell they were watching me closely. So I tried to act normally, even though I didn’t feel normal anymore.

My only friend was music. Somehow, when I picked up the guitar that day, it spoke to me for the first time. It seemed like I’d been trying to talk to someone who was sleeping, suddenly finding that she woke up. There was a conversation where there had only been futile monologue before. Playing was still frustrating, since I couldn’t always get the guitar to say what I wanted it to say, but that seemed to parallel the way life went. At least it was talking back, though.

After two days of barren self-examination, it was time to get on the school bus again. I stood away from Lara as we waited. I wasn’t sure where I was going to sit. In the front or the back? As I climbed the steps, I saw Brian, Pete, and Carl in their usual seats. I steeled myself and walked to the rear. I would at least say my piece, and then whatever happened, happened. If I sat in the front, it was a clear sign that I was going ‘soft’, and those days were definitely over.

I put my bag down and leaned back against the window. No one spoke at first. Even Brian was unusually still, likely having heard about the rehearsal incident.

“You can all gloat, now,” I said bitterly.

They didn’t even flinch.

“Julie finally wrote me,” I continued. “And, it’s over. I guess you were right about her.”

More silence. I was acutely aware of every little sound the grumbling bus engine made. Finally, Pete spoke up.

“I’m sorry, man. That really sucks.”

I was surprised to see Carl and Brian nod in agreement. They looked sullen.

“Well, it’s done now,” I blurted out. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I guess it was obvious a while ago, but I just didn’t want to believe it. Anyway, time to move on.”

“Are you still pissed at us?” asked Carl.

I felt some resentment at his question, but I let it blend unchallenged into the rest of my anger. “I’m pissed at everything right now, man, but I’ll get over it. It’s nothing personal.”

“Sorry about Julie,” said Brian. His voice was sympathetic, even as his expression was slightly ‘told-you-so’.

I just shrugged.

“Do you want to ski this weekend?” asked Carl, his voice edging back toward normal. “The snow should be killer.”

I looked at him and saw that he was asking in earnest. “Yeah, sure. Let’s do it,” I said, relieved that I wasn’t a complete outcast.


It wasn’t long before the topic of the February family trip to Montauk came up again with my parents. I remembered the excitement I’d felt when I’d first discussed the options with my mom. How different it was now.

Fortunately, an out came in the form of Melissa’s work schedule. She was lamenting the defection of one of her best cooks to a restaurant in New York City. “I just hope they can hold things down while I’m gone.”

“Let’s not go then.”

My parents’ eyes snapped to me at once. Melissa raised a surprised brow at my unexpected statement.

“No, Matt, it’s okay,” she said gently. “I’m just venting a little. They’ll be fine.”

“I’m serious,” I pressed.

There was a pause.

“But I thought you wanted to go?” Sarah queried.

“I don’t want to go anymore,” I muttered.

Immediately they knew what was wrong. “Is ... everything okay with Julie?”

“I don’t know,” I said darkly, hurrying to get the words out. “She broke things off between us.”

There was a long silence. Only Lara continued to chew her food, seemingly oblivious to my announcement. I could see my parents quickly putting things together, making sense of my recent mood. After a glance at Lara, they also knew that somehow she was involved. I really doubted they would be able to guess how, though.

“Matt, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Sarah said softly. “What happened?”

“I actually don’t want to talk about it. But basically she, uh, found someone else. That’s all I really know, and that’s all I want to say.”

My parents exchanged a pained expression as Melissa clasped my hand in hers. I just stared numbly at my food, ignoring her gesture of comfort.

“Well,” Sarah began, but stopped.

They clearly needed more time to think about the implications of my unanticipated announcement. For a moment I felt bad that I hadn’t said anything sooner. Perhaps they had already made arrangements at work. Then I shut that thought down too.

“We could still go,” Melissa offered. “Beth and Hans were excited that we were be coming down. The beach is beautiful in winter.”

“I really don’t want to go,” I insisted, hoping they would agree without too much more effort. It had been painful enough.

There was some quiet discussion about work between them. Then they turned to Lara.

“Lara, I know you were also excited to go. How do you feel?”

I tensed as Lara glanced at me. Our relationship had moved quickly and steadily downhill ever since that fateful night. After a period of ignoring each other, we were now getting short with each other whenever we had to interact. I was therefore expecting her to say she still wanted to go, just to spite me.

“I don’t really want to go either,” she said, at last.

I kept my surprise to myself, wondering how we’d become unlikely allies on this issue. The topic was dropped for the rest of the meal. After dinner, my parents phoned my aunt and uncle, and the trip was called off. We were not going to Montauk after all. There would be no special Valentine’s dinner with Julie, no kissing at the pier, no walks on the beach, no sneaking around the town to have sex. It really was over.

Later that evening, I poked my head into Lara’s room, just as she was about to close her door. She was dialing the phone, but she hung up when she saw me.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

“Just saying thanks.”

“Thanks?” Her expression was full of distaste.

“You know, for saying you didn’t want to go.”

She sniffed. “It had nothing to do with you, Matt. Now can you leave, please?”

I backed out into the hallway as the door closed in my face, feeling confused, angry, and sad. Even when I wasn’t thinking about Julie or Lara, I had this constant anxiety inside of me. Back in my room, I wrestled with this angst, until I suddenly realized ... I could control it! Or rather, ignore it. It was remarkably easy.

Forget them and forget it. Fuck it all! They’re not worth it. There’s no use opening up to them, just to be hurt again. There’s fun to be had, skiing, drinking, and ... even other girls, maybe.

I abruptly realized that I was free of Julie. Holy shit! A free man! This could prove to be an advantage in ways I hadn’t considered. For the first time in a while, a slight smile cracked across my lips.


We were supposed to be in Montauk on the night of February tenth, but instead I found myself at a party with Pete, Bruno, and Brian. Spirits were high among us. Since it had just snowed over a foot the night before, the skiing that day had been superb. We attacked the keg at the party with vigor, feeling boisterous from our day of hot-dogging on the trails.

“Whose place is this anyway?” Bruno asked, as we wandered back into the warmth of the house having refilled our cups at the outdoor keg.

“Who the hell cares!” answered Brian. “Better than the woods.”

“That’s for sure!” I agreed.

“Was Lara going come out tonight?” Pete asked me, his words mushing together.

I almost laughed at the hope in his voice. His crush on her never abated.

“I have no idea. We’re kind of not really talking to each other.”

“She’s going out with Ronnie, anyway,” Brian pointed out. “Sorry, Pete.”

I gaped at Bri. “What did you say?”

He gave me a surprised look. “Ronnie Starr? You didn’t know that?”

I opened my mouth, stammered a few incoherent words, and then said, “No, I didn’t.”

He laughed. “Well, now you do. I thought you would’ve been the first to know!”

“I guess not.”

Brian glanced around furtively, before leaning into our circle. “Ronnie’s a total asshole.”

He quietly told a few stories about the kid, since they were both on the soccer team. I only half listened. Lara is going out with a junior? It took me a good fifteen minutes to come back to the present.

Sometime later, Carmen and a few of her friends found us. We proceeded to drunkenly brag about our skiing feats from that day. Carmen kept giving me happy looks. The conversation moved around and so did we. Pete and Bruno went for a beer refill and never came back. Brian, a girl named Dena, Carmen, and I ended up squished on one of the couches in the corner of the family room. Carmen was practically on my lap. Everyone was pretty drunk by that time and she made no effort to hide her flirting. I made no effort to resist. Next to me, Brian started kissing Dena, I noticed, and Carmen couldn’t care less.

Things were going by in a blur. Carmen excused herself and I followed her pleading look. We disappeared through a doorway, uncaring if anyone was watching. We found ourselves in a bathroom, so I closed the door and locked it.

It was so easy. Such pleasure, and no effort! I didn’t have to write any stupid letters or wait patiently for months to get a kiss, because we were immediately all over each other, lips and tongues pressing and sliding. It was animalistic. We stumbled around, trying to kiss even harder.

I was supposed to be with Julie right now. Perhaps walking on the beach arm in arm, or watching a movie ... I pushed the thought out of my head and fondled her through the layers of clothing, pressing her against the wall. Our control was minimal. I felt like stripping and pounding her willing body right there. Our faces were soon wet with sweat and saliva. The sound of someone knocking on the door was distant and ignored.

“I was hoping you’d do that,” she breathed, when we came up for air.

The knocking on the door became heavy. “Hurry the fuck up in there!” came a deep and angry voice.

“We should go back out,” she whispered as the pounding came again.

“All right,” I reluctantly agreed.

As I pulled the door open, a slightly familiar and very red face got close to mine.

“What the fuck, man?” he yelled.

“Hey,” I said, placing him. “What’s up, Brad?”

He scowled at me. “Do I know you?”

“Yeah, remember, we hung out at the Ledges last November?”

“No, I don’t remember. Who the hell are you?”

“Matt. I was the—”

“Well, go find a room or something, doofus! I’ve been standing out here for twenty minutes just so you can fool around? If you ever do that again, I’m fucking going to pee on you, understand?”

He shoved me a bit as he pushed into the bathroom. I shrugged at Carmen, too drunk to care about the confrontation. She started toward the living room, but I pulled on her arm.

“Let’s go back there,” I suggested, gesturing down the hallway toward the secluded bedrooms.

She shook her head shyly. “Let’s get some more beer, first.”

I followed, a bit miffed at her deflection but still fired up by the possibilities for the evening. As we filled our cups, though, her friends materialized around the keg. A minute later we were back on the couch. None of my friends were around this time, so I impatiently endured the girls’ senseless gossip for a while.

Carmen was holding my hand. Even in my intoxicated state I could tell she was showing off her new prize. Annoyance built up in me, but before I could suggest a change of location, Brian found me and announced that we were leaving. Carmen didn’t hesitate to kiss me in front of everyone, including her ex-boyfriend. I felt my face heating up as I stood. She gave me a happy smile and a small wave. I just nodded back to her.

As I walked out with Brian, he sniggered. “Your turn,” he said, his voice ripe with amusement.

 
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