Chapter 11

September 19, 1986

Darkness. It seems like darkness should be a time of transition, a time of change. It seems like all of the most important moments have some hint of darkness to them or before them. As I stopped the truck, pulling it up to where Mikayla and I had first been together (was it only two weeks ago? It seemed like so much longer; it seemed like an eternity had passed) I rejected that foolishness. There's nothing magical about the dark; it just means that you can't see the dangers waiting for you.

For example, this mess. Nothing had been said on the drive, outside of Mikayla telling me where to turn. At least, nothing had been said to me. The two girls, on the other hand, had been having a wonderful time whispering and giggling to each other. I noticed an under-current to their whispers and giggles, though. It was faint - the sound of nerves and ... anticipation?

It took me a second to get out of the truck, the headlights shining brightly against the front of the wooden cabin. I had hoped to speak with Mikayla, to spend some time discussing our past, present and whatever future we might have together. I felt ... unstrung; my thoughts were fuzzy because, though I'd practiced speech after speech about what to say to Mikayla when we were alone, I hadn't had any real idea on how to start the conversation. That block, as annoying as it was, was nothing compared to how I felt now that Sally was here.

Finally, I watched Sally enter, a faint blonde bob of hair disappearing into the waiting darkness. I was strangely detached as I stared after her. At that particular moment, it felt weird, like she was nothing so much as a sacrificial lamb being led to the slaughter.

Mikayla had stopped for a moment, her features caught in the glaring headlights of the truck as she cast long, ominous shadows on the textured grayish-brown of the log cabin. She had with the cutest, most endearing little half-smile on her face, her head tilted quizzically as if asking me a question. The question didn't reach her eyes; her eyes were a foregone conclusion. There was something there in her eyes, a sharpness that I'd not seen there before. It was a strange mix of elation and fear with an over-bearing triumph. I had the strangest feeling that the two of us were playing some bizarre game and she'd just made what she considered her crowning move. The tilt of her head, the shine of her eyes, even the way she held her body, taut with the barest hint of steel; it spoke to me more than any words. Checkmate!

Then, she was gone and I was left to wonder if I hadn't imagined it; if somehow the darkness weren't seeping into me, alienating me, using its influence to make me see things that just weren't there. She had gone into the darkness and left me waiting for her ... in the light. It seemed oddly appropriate just then.

I sighed as I reached in and cut the lights and then the engine but I hesitated before pulling my rolling up my window. I couldn't help but feel that this whole strange situation wasn't right; that a game was being played at my expense. It seemed that every day, every moment, for the past few weeks were planned and I was being led around on a leash I didn't care for. I thought briefly of just driving away, of leaving this entire problem. Instead, I rolled up the window and closed the door.

Maybe it was a game and maybe I was losing; worse, maybe my losing was a foregone conclusion. My instincts told me that it was time to cut my losses, that the girl I loved wasn't mine to have. My heart, however, begged me blindly to go on, that the last move had not yet been played and I might still somehow come up a winner.

I wasn't going to listen to either of them. It was time to change the rules.

"Wow," I said as I stared around in the near darkness, taking off my coat and placing it on the kitchen chair where Sally and Mikayla had already placed theirs. My eyes had adjusted during the short journey between the truck, with its engine ticking and cooling, and the cabin; my skin had not. It wasn't the coldest night I'd ever been in but it was certainly cooler than was comfortable; goose flesh crawled up my arms as I shivered lightly.

What struck me the most were the candles; they were literally on every surface as far as my eyes could see. Yet, only a few of them in each room were lit. They were barely enough to make out the slight kitchen table, sink and cabinets. In the living room, I could make out a couch and some amorphous black chairs. A huddled shadow with the light of flames flickering off blonde hair placed Sally at the fireplace, her vague movements and the sound of wood scratching wood indicating she was trying to light a fire.

Mikayla was leaning against the breakfast bar separating the kitchen and living room. Mikayla was leaning against the breakfast bar separating the kitchen from the living room. Her smile had blossomed and the look of triumph on her face was unmistakable. I suddenly realized how the fly felt, caught in the web of the oncoming spider. It wasn't a pleasant feeling and I had to remind myself that it was up to me to free myself.

At a loss for exactly how to proceed, I made a show of looking around the cabin allowing a small smile to flit cross my features. "That's a lot of candles."

Mikayla's smile broadened even more as she jerked herself upright lazily, her tongue licking her lips in anticipation. She came to me slowly, sauntering, seeming to relish her coming triumph. She placed her hands against my waist, keeping me at arm's length; she'd been keeping me at arm's length for quite some time.

Change the rules, I sighed to myself. You must change the rules.

"They're not for you, silly," she said softly, the faintest touch of warmth creeping over her voice. For a moment, I was outside myself, looking at this girl and this boy, standing close. If I didn't know better, I'd assume they were in love and for just a fleeting instant I was reminded why I loved this girl, why I felt so close and comfortable with her. She had become my best friend, my confidant ... maybe even my muse. It was in everything that she was, the ringing of her voice, soft in the darkness, the feel of her against me, holding me tight, the bright sunshine of her smile. Then, the events of the past few days pushed back up out of my subconscious and I was left wondering how it had come to this.

Love shouldn't be a game. When it is, there are only losers.

"Well, not all of them, anyway," she continued, her smile turning soft and sultry. "We're having our weekly sleepover here tomorrow."

Her words were a cold shower on my soul and I finally let go of whatever fantasy of love and reconciliation I'd been having. This was a game and, while I knew I couldn't win, I would not allow myself to lose, either.

"What are we doing here, Mikayla?" I whispered, my eyes flickering over to Sally who was beginning to have some success with the fire. I needed her to make her final moves before I changed the board.

"You don't want to be here?" She questioned impishly, her eyes shining. "Don't you want to be in this cabin ... with me ... at night ... for a few ... hours??"

"With Sally here as well?" I whispered back, careful to keep my voice low enough that Sally couldn't overhear. Sally didn't deserve this; she didn't deserve to be hurt by the failed relationship of Mikayla and myself. I would do what I could to insulate her – but Mikayla had already placed her as a pawn on the board; I might not be able to get out completely unscathed. "Not really. I thought we were just going to be alone here."

"We are," she said, her face taking on a little teasing moue. She hesitated a moment and then looked up at me uncertainly. The triumph was glistening in her eyes. "Sort of."

"Sort of?" I whispered, my voice getting only slightly too loud. I flicked my eyes back to Sally who seemed to be studiously ignoring us, the flickering flame reflected like a halo around her blonde hair. It was time to pull Mikayla's teeth.

"Yes," Mikayla responded, carefully keeping her face an uncertain mask. "Sort of." Her arms loosened a little and she looked down. It was something that I had always found endearing, the way she looked down and then up through her lashes. It wasn't until that moment that I realized it was just a tool in her arsenal. "Sally ... well ... Sally ... uh ... wanted to ... to ... join us. She... ," her voice petered out artfully, dragging me down into this with her.

I wasn't going to go that easily.

I'll admit she knew how to play me masterfully. As a hormonally-challenged teen, the idea of being with two girls at once held more than a certain appeal; my jeans were quickly becoming uncomfortable as nasty images of Mikayla, Sally and me frolicking in bed ran through my head. It was every boy's wet dream to have two beautiful goddesses naked and alone. If I hadn't seen her with Jesse the other day, if I hadn't had my epiphany, she might have managed it. As it was...

"I only want you, Mikayla," I said, my teeth gritted, though whether gritted against my anger or my burgeoning hardness was a little difficult to tell. Hormones don't take time off.

"I told you..." she began, but I cut her off.

"I know what you said," I replied, my eyes rolling to the heavens. I tried desperately to reign in the bulge in my shorts but it was a losing battle; I needed to take control here and now otherwise my hormones would. I looked back. "I followed what you wanted. We're not exclusive, but..."

"But, nothing," she said, pulling me tighter. Her face grew determined, the fire of victory flashing in her pale, blue eyes, and I could literally feel my heart breaking. I stayed silent, though; I needed her to commit. I needed her to make her move. "You were supposed to be Sally's crush and I stole that from her. I feel guilty so ... I told her she could borrow you..."

"Borrow me?" I echoed in a gasp. Even though I knew it was coming, it still stole my breath. I still believed that somewhere, somewhere deep, she loved me ... but not as much as I needed. I had no compulsion about exclusivity – as a matter of fact, I logically didn't want it, at least not this early in my life. To have it used to manipulate me, though ... I couldn't be a part of that. "I'm not something you can loan out, Mikayla!"

"Don't take it like that," Mikayla replied in a soothing whisper, a hint of doubt just starting to cloud the triumph in her eyes. "She has it in her head that she wants you to be her first and I..."

"Wait," I interrupted. "Her first? You mean ... but she ... all those..."

"She's never gone that far with them," Mikayla said softly, brushing her hands up and down my sides. "She decided this summer that she was ready and she wanted it to be ... well ... you. Then you and I got together and she missed her chance, so I thought ... since we're not exclusive and all ... that..."

"That I was just some toy that you could lend to a friend," I said bitterly. Even my erection wilted at what she was saying, what she was trying to do. "I'm not an object Mikayla."

"Oh, come on," she said, exasperation filling her voice. "Any guy would give an arm or a leg to be where you are, with two girls eager to be with him."

"I'm not just any guy, Mikayla," I said. She started to say something but I just pulled her closer and hugged her tighter, my eyes closing wearily. I hated this, hated what she was doing and what she was making me do, who she was turning me into. For an instant, I wanted to tell her everything; to confront her with what I was so certain of. Instead, a plan began to form. It was risky and even a bit evil, but it would drag everything out into the open. It would take a few days ... but I needed that time. "Listen, you're right; we're too young to be exclusive. This isn't about that; I can deal with having you only part of the time as long as I know that I'm first in your heart. However, sharing ourselves should be something we talk about, something that we each consider and discuss together. This..." I waved my hand around. "This is too much of a setup. And Sally's virginity?? That's too important to be a part of ... of ... this. I'm not a toy you can loan to your friends, Mikayla ... just like you aren't a toy I can loan out either. It has to be mutual."

She looked at my face and a slow frown burned its way into her features. "I'm not ... not..." she stuttered, her eyes looking around, trying to figure out what I was saying. "So, should I ... should I..." she continued, trying to find her words. "It's ... it's too late, now. Sally ... I can't do that..."

"You made a promise that you can't keep, Mikayla," I said quietly, looking into her eyes earnestly. It was time to set the trap and pray that she defused it before we went any further. "If we're going to be a couple, if we're going to be together but non-exclusive then we each have to agree to our partners, okay? We have to be completely honest and truthful and discuss our outside adventures. That way we can be sure that any outside sex has no chance to break us up, okay?"

She hesitated a minute, looking off into the distance before turning back to my eyes. I could see worry and indecision in them. "Okay," she whispered finally.

"Now, you've promised something to Sally and ... I'll honor your promise," I said, smiling ruefully. "Obviously, it's not going to be that big of a trial for me – Sally is gorgeous. For me, I've committed to the twins tomorrow night but I can call that off if you'd like for me to..."

"No," she said, her face lighting up in triumph again. My heart broke; the trap was set and she hadn't defused it. All I could hope for was that she'd defuse it later. "No, they're harmless." She smiled and kissed me softly on the lips. "I think I'm going to like this truthfulness thing."

I smiled for her sake but I didn't feel it. I could only feel my heart breaking. I begged her with my eyes to come clean. I'm not sure she heard me.

I looked away before my tears could fall and my eyes fell on Sally. She was quiet, moving the logs in the fire she'd started but not really doing anything. Instead, she was surreptitiously watching Mikayla and me, her face nervous and concerned and anticipating and I realized that I had another problem. It had probably taken Sally a lot to come here, to open herself this way. If she truly wanted me to be her first, this had probably taken most of the courage the young woman had. I couldn't just reject that and I certainly couldn't make a game of it.

As I considered calling this whole thing off, watching her face show its fear and uncertainty, I made a startling discovery. For all her outward bravado, I knew that Sally was very fragile inside. While she had a different crush every other week, it wasn't the joke most of us took it to be. In a very real way, it was Sally's way to hide while remaining in plain sight. She chose her crushes carefully and switched them often so that she could seem like a social butterfly while remaining closed and shy. The whole thing was a defense mechanism ... and if I rejected her out of hand or allowed this to be nothing more than a sexy, little game between Mikayla and me, it could do a lot of harm to her.

I closed my eyes again. Shit. If I rejected Sally, I could really hurt her. If I didn't, I played right into Mikayla's hands ... and still really hurt Sally. I didn't want to do either but I couldn't see a third option. I weighed the choices carefully ... but the re-engorging of my staff told me which one I was ultimately leaning to.

"Fine," I said finally with a sigh. "I think it's important that Sally and I be alone, though ... at least at first."

"That's not the deal," she started but I interrupted her.

"Then we might need to make a new deal, just this once," I said shortly, forcefully. "Listen, I'm not going to rob Sally of this. She deserves her first time to be alone and romantic. You can only have one first time and I know that I'm going to remember mine for the rest of my life. I'm sure it's the same with girls. So ... I'll do it ... I said I would do it and I will," I laughed but the sound was dry to my ears. "It has to be alone, though."

I looked at Mikayla as she started to get a full head of steam. I needed to head that off quickly. "Listen, she deserves this," I said softly. "Just like you deserved it. Just like every young woman deserves this. She should be treated like a queen, with all attention on her. She shouldn't be the middle of ... of... us. Think about it, would you have enjoyed it if our first time included her?"

She started to smile but then frowned. I watched her mulling it over before looking back into my eyes. "You're right," she said finally, her voice small. "I ... all I was thinking about was what I wanted, not what she deserved." She frowned and for a moment I thought she was going to cry. "She's my best friend, though ... and she needs this. Next time, though..."

I smiled softly, tightly. "We'll worry about next time, next time," I said.

I reluctantly disentangled myself from Mikayla. I couldn't help feeling that this might be the last time I held her, the last time there was any happiness between us. There was a moment as we let go of one another that I wanted with all of my being to rush back into her arms for just a little while but the moment passed and with a heavy heart, I turned to Sally.

As I reached her, I felt the calm inside of me rising. The future was now uncertain; I'd cast my fate upon the wind and I waited to see what it would return. Whatever would be would be; hopefully I had a nice, long life ahead of me. It would likely not be the last time I had my heart broken.

The calm gave way to anticipation as I reached Sally. I was upset but that was compartmentalized in an area of me I reserved just for Mikayla. Sally deserved much better than me and if we went through with this, I wanted her to have my complete attention. I knelt next to her as she played with what had become a nice, warm fire.

"Hi," I said softly. The reflection of the candle-light on her face against a backdrop of the roaring fire cast unique shadows on her. As I reached to touch her hand, I realized that, while I was not in love with Sally, I honestly did love her. She had been a good friend to me for many years. She was beautiful and special, and the task that Mikayla had set before me was anything but onerous.

She didn't look at me, her feeling masked behind eyes that stared into the shadows. "Hi," she said, her voice a bit too high, a bit too nervous.

I thought for a moment, my hand inches from hers and then chuckled. These moments were too heavy for this joy. I resolutely took her hand in mine, my free hand gently removing the poker from her fingers. "I think we should talk," I said softly, causing her to look at me. I tried to smile warmly but I'm not sure what came to my face; I was resolved but I still wasn't sure that I was doing the right thing. Sally deserved more.

I stood, pulling her gently to her feet. She looked at me, more than a little fear flitting over her features, as she stood. Slowly, I lead her to the bedroom. As she reached the doorway, her hand trembling slightly in mine, she looked back to Mikayla.

"Just us," I said softly. I looked over at Mikayla who was watching us silently, her face flat. I wondered what she was thinking, whether she was feeling disappointment or relief. I decided that it didn't really matter. "At least, for now."

I led Sally to sit on the bed in the darkened room. The light of the fireplace was faint and tenuous here but it was just enough to make out the end table I remembered from two weeks before. As my eyes adjusted to the more intense dark in the room, I could just make out four candles and a lighter laying on that bedside table. It took me three flicks of the lighter but I eventually managed to light each of the candles and then turned and closed the door, sliding the locking bolt into place.

I wasn't completely sure how to proceed so I bought myself a few moments by looking around the room. I was surprised to see all of the candles still there, sitting quietly unlit on the dressers along the left and far walls. If anything, there were more candles now, perhaps newer candles since many of them seemed whole and untouched by flame. The walls were made from logs, whether real or faux I couldn't tell, and the lacquer that covered them twinkled with the light of the flickering candles. Two sets of heavy, utilitarian brown curtains hung to either side of the dresser on the far end of the room; I didn't remember them from two weeks ago but then, I didn't really pay a lot of attention to the décor two weeks ago. I had other, more important things on my mind back then.

I stood, distancing myself from Sally. I knew it was going to make her nervous – or more nervous than she already was – but I couldn't help it. I needed her nervous so she could think about what we were about to do. I wanted to make sure this was really what she wanted.

It also served another purpose. I went to each of the windows and looked out; the candlelight was dim enough that I was able to look through the meager reflection to the woods beyond. It was an eerie sight, the ghost of the room hovering over the trees outside. I wondered absently whether this was how some of those old ghost stories came to be.

As I moved from each, I was careful to leave a gap in the curtains. It was an important part of my plan.

Speaking of important, I turned to the young woman swallowing nervously on the bed. She sat on the thick, light brown comforter, her eyes watching me but her hands clasped tight in her lap. Her shoulders drooped as if she were trying to make herself smaller, to make herself invisible. There was a set to her head, a slight tremble to her cheek that spoke to me; she was trying to be stoic but she was terrified. As I moved towards the bed slowly, I tried to quell my own nerves.

I'm not certain what she expected but Sally gave a little gasp of surprise when I sat down next to her, enough space between us that we weren't in any danger of touching but not enough that we couldn't touch if we wanted to. I waited a moment before speaking, trying to measure my words before I spoke them. We were both in a precarious place and I knew that any wrong words might traumatize the young girl beside me.

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to," I said softly, turning my head slightly so I could gauge her reactions. "We can just sit here and talk or maybe kiss a little ... whatever you want."

"I want to," she replied softly, her head slowly dropping forward. "But..."

"But you're scared and not sure," I smiled, letting my hand drop to the bed between us. "Which is probably a really good reason NOT to."

"Don't you want to ... to... ?" she asked.

"Sally, you have to know that you're beautiful," I said slowly, carefully. I was treading on thin ice here and I didn't want do or say something that would hurt her. "You have those piercing blue eyes that seem to look right through people and your smile ... when you smile it's like the entire world lights up. Any guy in school ... heck, any guy in the world would feel extremely lucky to be here with you."

"Yeah, I have a pretty face but..." she started, glancing at me before turning her head back to her lap. " ... the rest of me..."

"Are you kidding?" I asked incredulously. "The rest of you is even better. You're thin and athletic ... you've got to know how hot you are, right?"

"But ... but ... I've got these..." she said, her voice wailing just a bit, pointing to her chest. "They're so small, not like Mikayla's or ... or..."

"'Or' nothing," I said. I gently took her head in my hand and turned her face up to me, turning my body slightly as I did so that my knee was just barely touching her leg. "Okay, so you're a bit small in the boob department ... a lot of guys find that attractive. Heck, I find that attractive. They're perfect on you, dainty and mysterious."

"But ... well ... most guys go for the ... you know..." she said, cupping her hands a foot outside of her chest. "All they do is stare at girls with these big ... big ... chests..."

"Then they're stupid and beneath you," I said quietly, staring straight into her eyes. "And you're better off without those guys. A woman's chest is just one thing and not a very important thing, honestly. I mean, think about it, the only reason they're there is to feed babies. So sure, guys can kiss them and ... I don't know ... nibble on them ... but they can do the same thing with yours, even if you are a bit smaller. If a guy is smart, they look at the whole you ... and not just the outside but the inside as well."

"Sally," I continued, "you are truly beautiful because you're beautiful outside as well as inside. Your body is perfect for you, you have just the right size up top and just the right size on the bottom. Your chest is big enough to know they're there but not so big that you look like a freak, your butt is a work of art and your legs..." I drifted off, shaking my head. "I'm not sure there are words good enough to describe how beautiful your legs are."

"Then add that you're funny and smart and sweet," I went on, my hand taking hers gently. "You have this way of truly listening to someone; a lot of girls pretend to listen but interrupt; you just wait patiently, your head cocked a little to one side and truly listen. When you smile, it feels like you're including the entire room, as if just by smiling or laughing you think everyone should be smiling and laughing with you. You're kind, always looking to help anyone who asks it of you. You're everything a guy could want."

"Then why can't I keep a boyfriend?" she asked plaintively. "Why does it only last a few weeks before they move on?"

"Do they move on ... or do you?" I asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" she said, looking at me suspiciously.

"I mean..." I pursed my lips, trying to decide how honest I should be. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly; she deserved for me to be completely honest with her. "I think you're scared. I think you want a boyfriend because you want to fit in but you're so shy and scared inside that you don't want them to last. It's easy to go from boyfriend to boyfriend, from crush to crush, never giving any part of yourself to the relationship. You're so worried about committing that you don't, you just flit from guy to guy like a butterfly, hoping to find the one but scared of losing a piece of yourself."

She looked down but she didn't take her hand away from me; if anything she held my hand tighter. When she didn't speak for a few moments I worried that I had gone too far ... but she deserved the truth. If we were going to be friends, I couldn't hold the truth from her.

"You've got me figured out, don't you?" she asked in a trembling laugh. "You're right. I don't give myself a chance because I don't want to get hurt. Did you know that my mom's been married three times? My dad was her first husband but she's had two others since they divorced. I've watched her lose her husband twice now and I'm pretty sure her current husband isn't going to last. Each time I watch as her heart gets broken and it seems like a little piece of her goes missing. I ... I'm not sure I could handle that."

I took her hand in my right and reached around her shoulders with my left and pulled her tight. "I'm sorry," I said sincerely. "I didn't know that. It has to be hard on you to go through that. It doesn't mean that you shouldn't try, though. I can almost guarantee that your heart is going to get broken at least once or twice; I don't think anyone can help that. I think, though, that the happiness you feel when you're with someone more than makes up for the pain if and when you break up. Besides, if you don't try then there's no way you'll ever find the right guy."

"What if you're the right guy?" she said, not looking at me.

"I don't think I am, Sally," I said quietly. "I like you ... I really, really like you ... and maybe, in a small way, I love you ... but I'm not 'in love' with you."

"Maybe," she started, then took a deep sigh. "Maybe that's enough for me, for right now. Maybe ... maybe I can practice on you so I can be ready for ... for ... when I find someone..."