My Seven Days of DelightsChapter 7
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Craig called on Saturday. We were on the phone for a couple hours. It was great.
He gave me a big smile when I saw him in school on Monday.
Monday, at lunch, I got a nice surprise. I had just started digging into the meal, when there appeared Angela. "Hi," she said.
"Hi," I responded tentatively.
"I owe you an apology," she said. "You were right."
"Thank goodness, I thought you would hate me forever."
"I was really mad at first," she said. "But my parents were a lot more understanding than I would've guessed. Very worried, but understanding. And Shannon really is great."
"That she is," I agreed.
We chatted a bit, and then we were invaded. Craig, Alex, Johanna, and Cap all came over to the table. I introduced them all to Angela. I thought she was going to freeze up, but she didn't. Well, mostly she didn't. She was all right. Craig helped--as did Johanna, who was sitting next to her and deliberately including her in the conversation. Including Angela Cressey in a conversation is no small feat, let me tell you, but Johanna was dogged. I threw her a smile of gratitude. Which she caught.
This kind of set the pattern for the week. We all ended up at lunch together. On Tuesday, a couple of Johanna's friends started joining us. Two of the types that I would've considered Princesses--these must've been the ones that didn't diss her when she started dating Alex--but they were actually very nice. Even to Angela.
Then came Thursday.
We were all at lunch. Angela, after watching us moon over each other for almost a week, finally got the gumption to ask Craig and I, "Are you guys dating?"
"Couldn't you tell?" Craig laughed.
"We just started, actually," I said. "This past weekend was our first date."
"And it feels like it was our millionth," Craig said, "and I mean that in a good way."
Oh, he was getting me all warm-and-fuzzy.
And then I blew it. "Yeah, for some reason Craig must have a thing for overbrained fat chicks." I said it as a joke.
Craig knew better. He knew that underneath the joke was, pretty much, how I felt. And he got mad. He turned to me with a look on his face I'd never seen before. "Oh, stop it," he said, loud enough to interrupt conversation at the whole table.
He grabbed my face and turned it towards his. "You listen to me," he said, luckily a bit softer--I think only Angela heard. "There's no such thing as overbrained. You're smart. That's a good thing. You should be happy about it. Stop apologizing for it."
I was stunned. And he wasn't done. "Furthermore, you are not fat." He put his hand on my stomach. "There's nothing wrong here. No, it's not sixpack abs, but who cares? It's not fat. It's just soft, and curvy. Girls are supposed to be soft and curvy." He then very obviously looked at my boobs. "Like those. Just perfect."
"Well," I said, trying to--I don't know what I was trying. To save face or something? Anyhow, I said, "It's mostly my hips. And my ass." I turned to poor Angela who was trying not to get involved. "My ass is so huge it stops weather systems."
Craig grabbed my face and turned it towards him again, and leaned in close. "You silly little fool," he hissed, low and soft, "how can somebody as smart as you be so damn stupid? Listen to me, Ginny Klusse, the only thing your ass stops is traffic!" And on that flabbergasting note, he very deliberately turned away, and very very deliberately started talking to Alex.
Poor Angela. She was staring at me after all this, desperately trying to think of something to say. And we all know that thinking of things to say isn't Angela's strong suit. I took her off the hook and changed the subject.
Craig studiously avoided me for the last fifteen minutes of lunch. But he wasn't done. As we were leaving the lunchroom, he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me over into a quiet part of the corridor.
"Ginny, this is the thing. I like you. I like you a whole hell of a lot. And I like you just the way you are. So when are you gonna start?" And then he walked away.
It's a good thing I can navigate my classes on autopilot--because, for the rest of the afternoon, I had no choice.
I had group after school. I kind of wished I'd had my private with Shannon, but today was group. I did tell everyone I'd gone on my first date--and gotten my first kiss--which they all were happy about. I didn't tell anyone what had happened today, though.
After supper, I was in my room, and the phone rang. It was Craig. "Look, Ginny, I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me. I was way, way too hard on you."
"I don't know if that's true," I said.
"It is. I was," he insisted. I heard him sigh from the other end of the line. "I'm sorry. This is harder than I thought it was going to be."
"What is?"
"Look, I knew I liked you. I liked you last year, I told you that. I wouldn't have asked you out if I didn't like you. I guess it kind of hit me suddenly on Friday night exactly how much."
"Oh," I said, thrilled, and scared out of my mind, all at the same time.
"That wasn't my first kiss. I haven't done much more than that, mind you, but I have kissed, and I've made out with girls. A number of times." He took another breath. "But never, ever like that."
"Oh, God, I thought it was just me," I said with a nervous little chortle.
"Not hardly," he said, and I could almost hear the smile over the phone. "Not even a little bit. It took my breath away."
"Mine, too, but my mother said that's because I need to learn how to breathe through my nose."
He lost it. "You're something else," he said when he stopped laughing. "By the way, I can breathe through my nose just fine and I still almost passed out on your porch."
"Oh," I laughed.
"Anyhow, it's quick. Quicker than I thought. I really do like you a lot."
"I feel the same way," I said softly.
"Good." His voice got a little strained. "But it's hard. And sometimes you don't make it easier. When you were running yourself down at lunch, it kind of hit me. I'm rapidly becoming crazy about a girl who, not so long ago, tried to kill herself. If I told you that that didn't scare the living shit out of me, I'd be lying."
"Oh. Damn, Craig, I don't know what to say."
"I want you to promise me something."
Oh, God, I thought, don't. I can't promise that. I can't. Not yet. "What?" I asked him hesitantly.
"I want you to promise me that, if you feel that way again, you'll call me. Just call. Give me a chance to talk to you about it. Please, just promise me you'll do that."
My heart went right into my throat. "Yes. I can do that. I promise to do that."
"Good," he said with a huge sigh of relief. No bigger than mine! He asked me something I was capable of--that came as a great relief. "And Ginny? Stop running yourself down."
"That's going to be harder. Uhm, do you really think my ass could stop traffic?"
He laughed. "Ginny, I like to think I'm a gentleman. I try to be, anyhow. If I weren't I think I would've left handprints."
"Oh, God," I croaked through the giggles. "That sounds, er, intriguing."
"Uh-huh."
TwelveI vowed to try. If this guy liked me, there was a reason, right? Maybe I'd figure it out.
We went out that weekend--in fact, we went out twice, both nights. Friday we went to the movies. Saturday we went out dancing, to a teen dance club nearby. I am an absolutely horrible dancer, but I went. It was even fun.
"I know you don't like me running myself down," I said to Craig during a break, "but let's face it--I suck at this."
"But you're having fun. That's what counts."
"It is fun. As long as I don't think about what I look like!"
He didn't say anything until we got back on the dance floor. When there, he steered me to a mirror on the wall. "Look. What do you see in there?" he said.
I looked. I actually looked half-decent tonight. Mom had helped me with the makeup and it looked good. My hair--which was reddish-brown and straight--was in a ponytail. First time for that in years. I'd been in the habit of hacking it off to get it out of my damn face, but I hadn't cut it since before the hospital. I had to admit, it looked better longer. I was wearing a nice blouse, and a knee-length skirt that at least made my ass look like it was in a single zip code instead of three.
"What do you see in there?" Craig repeated. "I'll tell you what I see. I see a pretty girl having a good time. For one thing, she's a lot prettier than she thinks she is--and she's having fun, which makes her absolutely beautiful. So what if she's not going to be winning any dance contests any time soon. She can keep up with the beat, she's not embarrassing herself, and she's having fun. In fact, to me, she looks happy." He spun me away from the mirror to look at him. "Ginny," he smiled, "happy is good. Go with it."
"OK," I smiled back--and we started dancing again.
God, he was right. I was happy.
How the hell did that happen?
I got even happier when we got to my house. We went out back of my house, where there was one of those big porch swings--though we had it on the lawn and not on a porch. We sat there for a while, making out.
After a while, he said, "I need to ask you something and I'm not asking it to piss you off. I'm asking because I need to know, OK?"
"OK," I said, curious.
"Do you like me because you like me or because I was the first one to ask you out?"
I grinned at him. "What are you grinning at?" he asked, obviously a bit confused at my reaction.
"Nice to know I'm not the only insecure person in this swing."
"No, you're not," he laughed.
"Good. As for your question--I'll be honest. I've thought about it. I'm pretty vulnerable to any kind of sweet-talking and I know it."
"Did I sweet-talk?" he chuckled.
"More like actions than talk in your case. Anyway. I thought about it. And I guess I realized something. I never would've been able to admit it, not even to myself, because I buried that kind of shit back then--but I liked you last year, too."
"You did?"
"Yeah."
"Oh," he said, looking insufferably pleased. I couldn't complain--I was, too. "You mean before I dissed you with my birthday party."
"Yeah, before that," I laughed.
"Don't worry, you're invited this year. It's in February."
"I'll mark my calendar," I deadpanned. "Oh, and I hope you like older women. Mine's New Year's Eve."
"I think I can live with that," he laughed. "Anyhow, you're sure?"
"I'm sure," I said. I looked at him. "You really are insecure. You spend so much time pumping me up I didn't realise."
"Part of it is because this is really quick." I nodded agreement--it was, but it felt right. "The other thing is, well, I know I'm nowhere in your league." I looked at him blankly. "I mean, I'm not a dummy, but you..."
I interrupted him by pointing at my scarred wrist. "I should be living vivid proof that brains are not all they're cracked up to be."
"I understand that part, but that's not what I meant."
"OK, let me explain to you what a high IQ is. Did you ever hear the polite euphemism for kids that are lower-than-average?" He looked at me blankly. "It's slow. I mean, you've heard that. 'So-and-so is a little slow, ' right?"
"Yeah," he said.
"It's accurate. And I say that because I am fast. Look, I understand different people have different talents, but I'm going to speak in generalities here. There is not a thing that I am capable of learning that you are not. Anything I can learn, you can too. Almost everyone can, speaking again in generalities.
"What the difference is, is this. If it takes you an hour to learn something, I can do it in twelve minutes. I won't learn it any better than you. Just faster."
"I see," he said. "Of course, where the difficulties come in is that while I'm taking the extra forty-eight minutes to learn Task One, you've moved on to Two, Three, and Four. And I'll never be able to catch up."
"Oh, I'm not nearly that diligent," I laughed. "While you're taking the extra time, I'm not learning Two and so on, I'm wasting time playing The Sims." He chuckled at that. "There are things I'm interested in. And there's things I'm not. That is a little easier, because I can get history studying over with quickly. And since I hate history, the less time spent, the better. That's an advantage. Things I like, especially if they're not the same as the things you like, I'll stay ahead of you. But if you like history, you'll pass me in no time."
"Not particularly," he grimaced. "What do you like?"
"Two things, and I'm eventually going to have to pick one. High-level math and physics and that sort of thing. That's like breathing to me. Pre-calculus is like second nature. The other one is languages."
"You mean like spoken languages?"
"Yeah. I'm reasonably fluent in five."
"FIVE?!?!?!?"
"Yeah," I laughed, "but that counts English. The others are German, Russian, Spanish, and Japanese. I'm probably best at Spanish, I started learning that when I was like three. German is the least fluent, because that's the one I'm taking in school."
"School really slows you down, doesn't it."
"Yeah, and that's what makes me stick out like a sore thumb more than anything."
"I can see that." He thought for a minute. "Five freakin' languages. Jesus."
"That kind of stuff I'm incredibly fast at."
"Is that what you want to do?"
"I was leaning more towards the other thing. I think I want to do something with science. Engineering or something. Or maybe even theoretical physics or the like."
"Yeah," he said. "And in this whole global economy, speaking all those languages can only help you. Even if you go into research in something like theoretical physics, you'd be communicating around the world."
"Exactly. I'm going to do Chinese in college because that's going to be an important language. Anyhow, what do you want to do?"
He smiled at me. "Well, we sort of share an affinity for math, but not the same type of math. For me, it's figures. I'm taking accounting this year and I love it and I'm good at it."
"So, you're thinking along those lines?"
"Yeah."
"That's cool."
"Look, I know this is quick," he said.
"We already decided that," I laughed.
"Yes, but I'm about to get quicker. I was wondering if, you know, you'd like to make this a steady thing. You know, us. Exclusive."
"Craig Tolland, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"
"Well, yes," he grinned.
"Then, yes," I grinned back, and leaned over and kissed him. "Was there every any doubt?"
"There's always doubt."
"Not in this case." Then I realised something. "What I promised you Thursday meant a lot to you."
"Yes, it did."
"Good. Look, I would never ever put the burden on your head of saving my life or anything stupid like that. I'd never do that to you. It wouldn't be fair." I took a breath. "But you help, OK?"
"Good," he said. "And I mean it."
"God, I really am crazy about you, Lyubovnik."
"Same goes," he said. "Lyu-what?"
"Lyubovnik. It's Russian. It's your new pet nickname. If we're going out, we have to have pet nicknames for one another, right?"
He looked at me and cracked up. "God. Remember when you were in the hospital and I told you that last year I thought you were part 16 years old and part 30?" I nodded. "Well, apparently I missed the part that was, you know, ten."
"Oh, her. I had her locked up. She's just escaped recently."
"Good, she needed to," he said. "So, what's that thing mean, anyway?"
"Lyubovnik? Hmm. Maybe someday I'll tell you," I smirked.
"Oh, jeez. Forget engineering, you should go into the CIA. International Woman of Mystery."
"Klusse--Ginny Klusse," I deadpanned, then cracked up. "Doesn't quite roll off the tongue like 'Bond--James Bond', does it?"
We snuggled and kissed and cuddled for a while after that, until it was time for him to go. He walked me to my door and kissed me again. I watched him go back down the walk.
When I went in the house, Mom and Dad were sitting there, watching a movie on TV. "So, how was your date?" Mom asked.
I couldn't help it--I screamed it. "GINNY'S GOT A BOYFRIEND!!!!!!!!!!!"
ThirteenShannon was ecstatic for me in our session on Tuesday. Then came group on Thursday. That was interesting.
One of the things Shannon always had us discuss was our successes and setbacks. So, of course, Ginny having a boyfriend came up.
They were all happy for me. Of course, Zoe had to say something. It'd come up in previous sessions that Zoe was no virgin. "Good, maybe now you'll get laid," Zoe said.
"Well, not right now," I laughed. "I'm going to have to play a little bit hard to get. But I'm looking forward to it."
"Sex isn't all it's cracked up to be," Karen said.
"How would you know?" I asked her. "You've never had sex." She looked at me incredulously. "You haven't. I might not be a shrink, but I know enough to know that rape is not sex."
"I tell her that all the time," Shannon said.
"But, it's different," Karen said. "I mean, I responded. A couple of times I came!"
"Oh, that don't mean shit," Zoe said. "All that is is physical. It's a part of your body that responds to stimulation getting it. That's all it is. Look, if you rub my clittie a certain way, I'm gonna have an orgasm, and whatever else is going on is irrelevant."
"That can't be true," Karen said.
"It is. Look, one of my many talents is that I give an absolutely hellacious blowjob," Zoe said, cracking us all up. "It's true. I'll make you forget your damn name.
"Anyhow, Seth is gay. Not attracted to girls at all. I'm guessing that if I stripped naked right now, Seth's Little Head wouldn't even twitch, am I right?" Seth laughed and nodded agreement.
"Right. But if I ripped his pants down and got my mouth on him, I guarantee it would twitch. It'd be like steel in a second, and I'd having him cumming his brains out before he could say 'Wait, I'm gay!' Absolutely guarantee it. Because it'd all be a physical sensation."
"Don't you think sex is mental?" Shannon asked.
"Sometimes. Not always." Her voice dropped a bit. "Look, I can tell you guys this. When my brain was more haywire, I slept around. And I mean a lot. I'm not even sixteen years old, and I'm over 50. Guys, I mean." She took a breath. "Sex shut up the voices. The ones in my head, I mean. If I was having an orgasm, they weren't there.
"Anyhow, I have, a couple of times, slept with guys I absolutely could not stand because I'd heard they knew their way around a girl. At least twice I had to do it with my eyes closed so I could ignore who I was with. But I came. It was all physical. I've also slept with older guys--in some cases, the proverbial old enough to be my daddy. And I'm not particularly attracted to older guys. But they're experienced and usually good. Hey, I slept with a balding pudgy guy in his forties. He wasn't attractive at all, and he was a little too enthusiastic about bedding a fifteen year old, if you know what I mean. It was disgusting, if you think about it. He was a fat old pervert. All of which doesn't change the fact that he made me cum so hard I saw stars. "
"It's better when there's emotions involved," Shannon said.
"I have no doubt about that," Zoe agreed, "though I can't quite say I have any experience in it. I've had sex with friends, and friends is better than, you know, pickups--but I've never been in love. I'm pretty sure I wasn't capable of love up until recently anyway, not that kind of love.
"But my point is you can get off without emotion. I mean, is there anyone here that doesn't play with themselves?"
"I used to... before... but I haven't in a while," Karen said.
"Yeah, but you used to. So you know what it is. And it's completely physical. I'm not having an emotional relationship with my right hand, right?" We all cracked up at that. "It's the physical stimulation of a pleasure center. Yeah, I know, fantasizing can help get you off a bit quicker. But it's still almost all physical." Zoe looked right at Karen. "And that's all it was with you, too."
Karen looked positively grateful. Damn, Zoe was cool.
"Zoe, does it now bother you?" Shannon asked. "Being that active, I mean, and with so many partners."
"Somewhat. Because I'm past it, but that's my reputation, you know? Now that I'm feeling more like an actual human being, I want what Ginny has. But at school I'm the Designated Slut and the crazy chick that tried to off herself."
"Well, I've got the latter, plus School Brain, and I found someone," I said.
"You got damn lucky. And don't you forget it," Zoe laughed.
"Just keep looking, girlfriend. Hey, Sam's available."
Zoe shot a speculative look at Sam. "Hmm. That's an idea. He's cute--and sweet, too."
Poor Sam just blushed crimson! Zoe wasn't done yet. "So, Sam. You want me to teach you what I know?"
"Uh, well, um..."
"Shit. This is the offer of a lifetime," Zoe teased. Poor Sam just squirmed!
FourteenIt was November now. The month passed normally.
Well, normally for me, anyhow. Which was more normal than I used to be but not quite, you know?
Craig and I just got closer and closer. We still hadn't done much physically, but that was OK. He'd confessed that making out was as far as he'd ever gotten--with the odd grab of a boob through a shirt and bra, but that was it. He was a virgin, too. I think that made me feel a little better. So, we were kind of working up to things. That was fine.
I did notice that we'd gone to a school dance in November and he kept playing grab-ass every time we slow danced! "OK, so you do have a thing about my ass," I said to him.
"Guilty," he grinned.
I was still in therapy, and still in group. And group was working out well, because I considered those people friends. Zoe really was a hot shit. We'd traded phone numbers and talked a couple times a week.
Then, after group one day, Seth came up to me and asked me to go get a cup of coffee. I did, and we were just chatting. In the course of the conversation, he mentioned a place.
"It's kind of a club, but it's not advertised. I just found out about it a couple months ago, and now I go there almost every weekend. It's for teenagers, no booze. There's a coffee bar and couches and tables and stuff in the front room, and a dance floor with a DJ in the back. So you can chat--or make out on a couch," he grinned, "or you can go dance."
"This is for gay kids I take it?" I asked.
"Mostly. What they call it is gay-friendly. In other words, straight kids are welcome as long as they're not going to have a problem with two guys or two girls making out in the corner or dancing with each other." He grinned. "You do see some stuff there, though."
"What do you mean?"
"One of my best friends in the world is a girl named Catherine. In fact, she's the one that told me about this place. I knew her from a camp a few years ago. We still talked, but she didn't know I was gay--she didn't find out until after my suicide attempt. That's when she told me about this club. I didn't know that she was bi.
"Anyhow, she's bi. She has a boyfriend Tom, and a girlfriend Stephie."
"That's gotta be confusing," I laughed.
"Oh, it gets better. Stephie is also bi and has a boyfriend, Rich. Tom and Rich are also bi. You can figure out the rest."
I cracked up. "I've heard of a love triangle, but a square?"
"That's pretty much how it is, though the two unconnected couples--that'd be Rich and Cath, and Tom and Stephie--aren't completely hands-off either. The love is along the square, as you called it, but the others really like one another. You see, the parents involved know about the hetero couplings. And are pretty cool with them. They have no problem with the two couples going off for a weekend or something. So there's been moments where all four have had the opportunity to be in the same place with some privacy. From what they tell me, it's basically your big pile of orgasming body parts."
"So it's like this big foursome?"
"Yeah. They quote double-date unquote," Seth laughed. "Evidently there was one night at the drive-in where it started with the two hetero couples making out, one in each seat--but it ended with guys in front, girls in back, making out."
"It's lucky it worked out, though. I mean how do you arrange something like that?"
"Very carefully," he deadpanned. "Seriously, it started with Cath and Stephie, they've been lovers since they were 12. They always knew they were bi, though, so guys were always an option. When Cath met Tom, they fell pretty quickly--and Cath felt she had to tell Tom about Stephie. Tom not only had no problem with it, but confessed he was also bi. They went actively looking for a guy to complete the square after that. They actually met Rich at the club. They noticed he was looking at Tom and Stephie. And Tom and Stephie were both checking him out. So they reeled him in."
"That's great," I laughed. Then I twigged onto it. "You're telling me all this because you want me to come to this club, aren't you?"
"Yeah. Look, Ginny, I consider you a friend. I like going out with my friends, and this is my favorite place. It's also safe--and that means for you, too. You know that gay and lesbian teenagers have a ridiculously high rate of suicide, or attempts, or suicidal thoughts." I nodded. "Well, the reasons might be different between a depressed gay person and a depressed brain like yourself, but the impulse is similar. The ostracism in school is similar, too. People there that see your wrists will commiserate, not judge. Karen and her boyfriend have actually come a couple of times. Karen loves it--and Aaron thinks it's cool as well."
"Karen and Aaron--I get a kick out of that, rhyming boyfriend and girlfriend" I laughed. "Anyhow, I think I'd like to. I have to convince Craig, though."
"I bet you you don't. I bet you all you have to do is ask him."
Seth was right. "Sure," Craig said the minute I asked him.
"You sure you won't feel uncomfortable?"
"No. I'm open minded. And I might feel uncomfortable if we just wandered in there out of the blue, but not if Seth is there to introduce us around."
"You've never met Seth," I laughed.
"But he's your friend, so you'll introduce him to me and then he'll introduce us around. I want to meet him, to tell you the truth. Karen, too."
"As long as you're sure."
"I'm sure, as long as you're not going there to satisfy your secret urge for girls," he laughed.
"Not hardly," I laughed back. "I'm completely straight."
"Good."
So we went, a couple Saturdays before Thanksgiving. Seth met us there and led us in.
It was as lot of fun, but it was also very very interesting. And educational. I learned a lot that night.
First of all, I found out that everybody likes Seth. He's the life of the party. Everybody came over sooner or later. Which was cool for Craig and I, being the newbies, because we got introduced to everyone. But Seth was in his element. He was a people person. It must be especially tough on a people person to be ostracized--here, he wasn't.
"This place must've been like a godsend to you," I said to him at one point.
"Yep," he agreed happily.
At one point, I saw him talking intently to a good-looking guy. He came back grinning and said, "That's Adam. We're doing The Dance at the moment."
"The Dance?" I asked him.
"Oh, you know--the little looks, the eye-lock, the shy little smile. All that shit you do right before you ask someone out."
"Go for it. He's cute," I said.
"I know," Seth agreed.
So, I liked seeing Seth here.
And then there was Karen. I think part of it was the place--she seemed very at ease and comfortable there. But that wasn't most of it. Most of it was Aaron.
I'd heard her talk about him, of course. And because of what she'd been through, the way she talked about him sounded almost like they were in a relationship between two scarred people that were hanging on by a thread and didn't know if they'd ever be able to get past the scars. But, damn, that's not what it looked like. It looked like two people so hopelessly in love with each other that they wouldn't notice if a bomb dropped on their heads.
It was very, very nice to see. In group, Karen is Miss Angst, even when she talks about Aaron. When she's with him? No angst at all. There was one point where we were on a couch. Seth was on a chair facing us, and we were talking, but the rest of us were on a couch. I was sitting, quite happily, on Craig's lap. But Karen and Aaron were completely curled up together in a little ball. Karen looked like a well-fed cat sunning herself--completely, utterly content. And Aaron just doted on her. I know the hell she'd been through had affected their relationship--but he was just a complete rock. I noticed it immediately. What I really noticed was the touching. Not sexual touching--just rubbing her shoulders or brushing her hair out of her face, stuff like that. Aaron did that constantly. Karen basked in it.
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