Chapter 1: Megan

Background — According to Debra

Sammy Oldham asked me to start this off, because I was the first to hear how he and my friend, Megan Freeman spent the night of her graduation from Pontiac college.

I'm Debra Simmons Evans. My husband is Charles Evans, Junior, and we were expecting our first child any day now.

I never knew Sammy very well until the beginning of our senior year at Pontiac College. I had heard stories about him since he was a freshman at Cromwell Military Academy, and I was a freshman at Forester Woman's Preparatory School. Forester is the sister school to Dearborn Military Academy, and the D.M.A. football team played C.M.A. two times each year.

It was rumored that Sammy had a crush on me from the first time he saw me. I think we danced together after the second game that year, and then I didn't see him again until we were juniors. I couldn't believe the changes in him. He was taller than I remembered, and he was a starting linebacker on the C.M.A. defensive team. He hardly looked at me at the post-game dances. I heard through the grapevine that he had a girlfriend who was a senior at Speedwell School for Girls.

Charlie and I are from the same home town, but we didn't know each other until we met at a party, and I learned that he went to C.M.A. Out of curiosity; I asked if he knew Sammy Oldham. Charlie said that he not only knew Sammy, they had been roommates when they were freshmen. He offered to bring Sammy home with him for a weekend if I would like to meet him. I was mildly interested, and told Charlie that I would go to a party with them if I were free.

I don't remember what happened, but we didn't go to the same party. I did, however, see a remarkable change in Charlie after that weekend. He was more confident, and he looked you in the eye when he talked to you. It was years later that I learned that they had gone home with a couple of girls, and Charlie had lost his virginity. Sammy came home with Charlie one more weekend that year. Charlie's dad made him go camping, and that left Sammy alone with Mrs. Evans for two nights.

I always suspected that something had happened, but Charlie was extremely closed mouth about that weekend. It wasn't until Sheila made two trips to Pontiac when they were juniors, that I learned the visits were to have sex with Sammy. Charlie was broken up to think that his mother would fuck his best friend. By that time, we were lovers, and I got him to see things through their eyes. Sheila was remarried, and if Charlie's stepfather condoned the trips, why should Charlie take exception to his mother screwing his friend. I argued that Sammy was not to blame. It was better that she worked out her sexual frustrations with someone she knew, than to pick up a stranger in a bar. Apparently Cyril, her husband, couldn't satisfy her. Charlie eventually came to terms with his mother's needs, and he forgave his friend.

That was about the time that Charlie suggested that I transfer to Pontiac College for my senior year. At first, it was just a suggestion. I told him it would be impossible. My parents would never approve. Besides, I couldn't think of leaving my roommate and best friend alone. Megan Freeman's boyfriend was graduating. Charlie said that Megan could transfer, too. "We'll get a house together," he said.

I'll have to admit that it sounded tempting. I began working on my parents and Megan. My parents said definitely not, and Megan wasn't keen on the idea either.

Charlie wouldn't give up. What finally convinced me that I had to come to Pontiac was Charlie's confession that he had been sleeping with a girl from the town. I knew that I had to protect my interests. I begged my parents to let me transfer, and they relented. I had to tell Megan about Charlie's admission that he had been sleeping with someone to make her agree that I had to transfer. She decided to apply at the same time.

I didn't find out until later, but Sammy had already stolen the girl from Charlie. That's when I began to believe the stories I'd heard about Sammy. He'd gotten Charlie laid for the first time, he'd seduced Sheila, and he'd taken some native slut away from my boyfriend. I know now that I should have warned Megan about him. She had a boyfriend, and she and Mel had tentative plans to marry as soon as Megan graduated. Sammy was in a similar situation with Kelley Harvey. Warning Megan wouldn't have done any good anyway. It was instant infatuation from the first moment they laid eyes on each another.

Transferring to Pontiac was a mistake for both of us. Had I known that Charlie was going to knock me up the first week of classes, I would have never agreed to come. It was the same for Megan. Mel broke up with her, and she leaned on Sammy for support. They told us that they weren't having sex, but we all suspected that they were. It was just too evident by the way they were together. She stayed at his apartment two nights each week, and she stayed in his hotel room the night of our marriage. When he broke up with Kelley, Megan blamed herself, and they went their separate ways. She started relying on Chase for support, and Sammy made frequent trips to Florida. He said it was because his parents were building a house there, but we all knew it was to be with a girl he had met.

After all the trouble I'd gone to, I didn't graduate with the class. My parents insisted that I come home where I could receive better care. Charlie wasn't in favor of me going home, but he knew that I wasn't attending class half the time, and he agreed that I should get the best care available. I hated deserting Charlie, and I hated leaving Megan too. We cried the night before I was to leave, vowing to talk on the phone as often as possible.

I didn't get to go to the graduation. Cyril and Sheila drove to Pontiac, attended the ceremony, and helped Charlie bring our stuff home. They arrived at ten PM on Sunday, the first of June. Charlie said Megan's flight home was the next morning. Chase was delaying his trip home in order to take her to the airport.

That brings you up to date. As you can see, in the eight years I've known of Sammy Oldham it has always been through hearsay. Until this year, I'd formed my opinions about Sammy based on what others had said, and I must admit that my opinion of him was not good. Now, after attending his Friday night parties, and hearing my husband and best friend praise him, I've decided that I was wrong about Samuel K. Oldham.

Sammy Oldham is loyal to his friends, but you don't want to get on his bad side. I never thought he especially liked me. He endured me because I was his friend's wife. I think that is one reason he asked me to record this particular period in his life. In addition to being in constant contact with Megan, and being the only one that heard everything that happened, I can be objective.

June 1, 1993 — According to Sammy

It was graduation day, and this was to be my last night in Pontiac. Victor heard about a block party, and having nothing else to do, I tagged along. We lost each other in the crowd, and I was about to leave when I spotted Megan. She was surrounded by four admirers, not more than ten steps away.

They didn't see me. I used the shadows and the milling crowd to conceal myself as I watched the four under-graduates vie for her attention. Chase joined the group, carrying two beers. I told myself to leave. There was no reason to linger. We'd said our goodbyes after graduation. She was Chase's girl. Why prolong the agony? One more second and I'll disappear into the crowd, I thought as I watched her accept one of the beers, smiling.

The smile faded as our eyes locked, and I knew it was too late to make my exit.

"Sammy, did I leave something at your apartment?" she asked, handing her beer to Chase, and walking toward me.

How many times had it thrilled me to see her walking toward me? This was different. What had been a casual friendship, watching out for each other, was changing with every step. I knew it; she knew it too.

"Yes, Megan, I put it in my pencil drawer."

Subconsciously, I counted the steps that brought her closer. How many times had we run together, kissed, and even shared the same bed?

And then, she was a foot away. We were touching, smiling, taking each other in. It didn't occur to me to consider the consequences. The thought of what I would say to Adeline, or what we'd tell our friends didn't cross my mind.

After nine months of pretending that we were just friends, this was different. The way she felt in my arms was different from all the other times we had hugged. The way we kissed was real, not casual. The crowd detected that this was different. Their cheers made us break the kiss, and smile at one another.

Megan placed her hand in mine, and we began to run, grinning at each other, not looking back. The crowd cleared a path for us, like they knew this was the real thing.

I'll admit that I wasn't thinking clearly. I was aware of how her hand felt in mine, and that we were heading in the direction of my apartment, but I was in no hurry to get there. I was consumed with the happiness that I felt, and from her smile, Megan was feeling the same as me.

We ran up the stairs, and I had trouble getting the key out of my pocket because she was all over me, pressing her body into mine. I gave up finding the key, and kissed her, invading her mouth and letting her tongue search for my tonsils. This was definitely different, and right. It was definitely right.

We were forced to stop when we ran out of air. I was dazed, but I found the key and opened the door. Inside, it all came back to me. It was the same as the day we had met, standing at this very spot in the kitchen. She hadn't changed from the blonde, California girl with the runner's scar on her knee. She was even dressed the same as that day nine months before.

Monday, June 2, 1993

What time was it? The sun was high. It had to be nine, maybe nine-thirty. I was headed for the bakery because the refrigerator was empty. This was my chance to be alone, to think about what I'd done, what we'd done. I was pretty sure that it was a big mistake.

I bought half dozen bagels, a quart of orange juice and four cups of coffee before heading back to the apartment. Would Megan be awake? Would we talk about what happened? What would we say? Would she have regrets?

Would I have regrets? Something like this had happened two years before. Shirley had left and I'd agreed to drive her roommate, Tammy, to the airport the next day. She practically begged me to fuck her. I made sure there would be no strings before I agreed to do it, and there had been none. She never attempted to get in touch with me, and as far as I know, she never told Shirley. I'd even forgotten to include her name on a list of my conquests I'd supplied to Kelley, and later to Marcie.

I was rationalizing. This was different. Tammy meant nothing to me; Megan meant everything.

I stepped into the apartment and was depositing my purchases on the kitchen table when I heard Megan giggle. I went to investigate the cause, but when I got as far as the bathroom I stopped to listen. Her soft voice was interrupted by fits of laughter, short silences, followed by almost indiscernible discussion. I crept closer to the bedroom door, and decided that she was on the telephone. It wasn't hard to know who she was talking to. It had to be Debra Simmons Evans, the girl I'd had a crush on so long ago.

"Me? Sorry? No way! Last night was incredible. I'll treasure it always."

After a short pause, and another giggle, "Four, I think, although it may have been five. I kind of remember waking him and telling him that I was going to fuck him. He let me be on top. It must have been five times."

Another pause and more giggles, "No, he didn't make me do anything I didn't want to do. He's gentle, and very considerate. I was the aggressor. I couldn't get enough of him. I'm just sorry it's over. I wish I didn't have to leave today."

I took a seat on the floor, waiting for Megan to speak again. "What do you think? Of course it's sore, but it feels delicious. My legs ache like I ran a marathon last night."

She listened to another question from Debra. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat, but I've got a flight to catch. Hey, what time is it? My flight leaves at eight-thirty and I haven't had a shower ... WHAT? It can't be. My parents will kill me."

I heard her mutter under her breath as she dialed another number. "Mom, I have bad news."

"What are you doing, Sammy? Did she lock you out of your bedroom?"

I looked up to see Zelda, obviously having come out of the other bedroom, and obviously naked. She turned her attention to the bedroom door when we heard Megan shout, "It's not my fault! I didn't miss it on purpose."

Zelda shrugged, and continued on her way to the bathroom. There was no indication that she was embarrassed at my seeing her tits and pussy. She hadn't made a move to cover up, and I'd hardly taken notice. An outburst from the bedroom got my attention, and I was filled with concern for Megan.

She was sitting in the middle of the bed, nude, staring at my cell phone. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She looked up at me and tried to speak, but nothing came out.

"I heard," I said, going to her. She slumped into my arms, crying. I ran my hands over her back, trying to comfort her, and felt her body shake.

"I made the reservation weeks ago. The airline won't let me change it now. It was a non-refundable ticket."

I felt her wet cheek next to mine as I stroked her back. "Let's take a few minutes to consider our options. Maybe there's a way..."

"My mom is pissed. They will have to pay full price for a replacement ticket," she whispered.

"Tell them it's not necessary. I'll replace your ticket," I offered.

"Thank you, but that's not necessary. I have a credit card that's strictly for emergencies. This is an emergency," she said, pulling away to look at me, attempting a smile.

She seemed to enjoy the way I was admiring her breasts. They were small, but perfectly shaped. I wondered if she would think it crass if I called them 'runner's tits.' She wiped the tears from her eyes, smiled and I smiled back.

"We'll go to the airport and make arrangements, but first, let's have something to eat."

"I must be a sight. Give me a minute to wash my face."

"Zelda's in the bathroom."

"Zelda's in the bathroom?" she repeated, like she hadn't heard me correctly.

"It looks like she and Victor hooked up last night."

"Is that what we did, hooked up?" she asked, grinning mischievously.

"Call your mom and let her know she doesn't need to replace your ticket. I'll be back when Zelda is out of the bathroom," I said, getting up and heading for the door so she could have some privacy.

"Sammy?'

"You don't need to thank me. I'm partially to blame for you missing your flight."

"That's not what I wanted to say. What if I can't get another flight out today? Would it be okay if..."

I was anxious to get to Florida to check on how the new house was progressing. Anyway, the apartment was technically Victor's. He was paying the rent as of that day, and would want me out. A devious plan was forming in my mind. "Tell your parents you'll let them know when you have a definite time of arrival," I said, and watched her smile in agreement, like she'd gotten the same devious idea.