Good Medicine Junior YearChapter 65 Developing A Relationship
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Good Medicine - Junior YearChapter 31: One Day At A Time free porn video
September 30, 1983, McKinley, Ohio
Since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind. Well, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration, but compared to other first kisses, this one was certainly memorable — a soft touching of lips, a light hug with Kimiko’s small, silk-covered breasts brushing lightly against me, and her hand lightly on my back.
Kimiko broke the kiss, looked me in the eyes, and whispered, “That was nice.”
“May I kiss you again?” I asked.
She nodded and our lips touched once more, softly. We held the kiss for about fifteen seconds, before Kimiko once again broke it.
“I should go,” Kimiko said softly, but she made no effort to move away.
We stood, staring into each other’s eyes, our arms lightly around each other, our bodies just barely touching. I truly did not want to let her go, but I knew she’d taken a big step in asking me to kiss her. I could feel the tension, and the heat, building as we stood there, but I couldn’t bring myself to drop my arms. After what seemed like minutes, but which was only seconds, Kimiko nodded and we kissed for a third time.
When she broke the kiss, she put her head on my chest and sighed deeply, stepping slightly closer, and gently pressing her breasts into my chest. I resisted the urge to pull her firmly against me, but did adjust my arms to hold her just a tad tighter. Several minutes passed before she lifted her head.
“If I don’t go now...” she whispered.
She was putting the ball squarely in my court, and as much as I wanted what I thought she was offering, at least by implication, I didn’t think the time was right. Reluctantly, I lowered my arms and Kimiko did the same, stepping back slightly.
“Good night, Mike,” she said softly.
“Good night,” I replied.
She smiled, leaned forward and kissed my cheek, and then walked to the door. She opened it, turned, smiled, and then left the room, pulling the door shut behind her.
October 1, 1983, McKinley, Ohio
On Saturday, I was up early to do my hour in the lab, then walked back to the dorm. I had nearly two hours before anyone would be up for breakfast, so I pulled down my statistics book and began working through Friday’s assignment. I finished just before Clarissa and Sandy came to the door. Our Saturday morning breakfast group had slowly dwindled, as most people were opting to sleep in. That included Kristin, who I would meet in the computer lab at 10:15am, after my study session with Kimiko, who arrived at the cafeteria about five minutes after Clarissa, Sandy, and I had sat down with our trays.
“Good morning!” Kimiko said as she sat down.
“Good morning!” I replied, with Clarissa and Sandy adding their greetings as well.
I was surprised when a few minutes later, Fran and Jason joined us, but they explained they were headed to Pittsburgh to meet up with some of her friends who were going to school there.
“Not too many at Saturday breakfasts these days,” Fran observed.
“I think the fact that most people have switched to having their first class be at 10:00am has changed habits,” I said. “But the three of us decided to keep the early hours so we could be done by 3:00pm and have Tuesdays and Thursdays free.”
“You were always up early to run,” Jason added.
“True. And now I’m up even earlier for the lab work we’re doing for our special assignment. But I’ve always been a morning person.”
“Me, too,” Kimiko said. “There was quite a bit to do around the house before I left for school each day, and I had to take the train to Yamagata City for school.”
“How far?” Fran asked.
“About two hours. When we moved here, the High School was only ten minutes away by car or school bus.”
“Is it different?”
“Very. In Japan, we wear uniforms, and discipline is very strict. And mostly our class would study together. I also was quite far ahead in math compared to the others who were starting their Junior year here.”
“Did you have to take a foreign language in High School?”
“No. Taft admitted me using Japanese for my foreign language requirement. At home, I learned some French, too, but I only took one year because I wanted to focus on English.”
“May I ask why?”
“I knew my father would have this assignment three years before it happened. I was thirteen and had learned some English, but then I started to really study because I didn’t want to have trouble when we moved here. My dad spoke English because he went to Stanford for graduate school. My mom began learning about a year before we moved here. My brother doesn’t speak English, which is true of most people where I live.”
“What do you think of the US?” Jason asked.
“It’s so very different from Japan. There are some things I like, but there are others I don’t. But I’m glad I’m here to experience it.”
“Are you going back to Japan when you graduate?” Fran asked.
“My parents will, and that’s when I’ll have to decide. I’m very Japanese, but there might be reasons to stay. But I have three-and-a-half years to decide.”
I wondered who that answer was truly for — Fran or me? I also wondered if it was similar to the answers I’d given Tasha once I’d started college — an attempt to leave open the possibility, even if it was remote. Was staying in the US something she’d TRULY consider? And if it was, was there SOME solution to the cultural differences which would work for us? Fortunately, I didn’t have to make any decisions in that regard in the immediate future, and could simply take things ‘one day at a time’.
We finished breakfast and when we went back to the dorm, Kimiko retrieved her books and notes and joined me in my room for her usual Saturday mentoring session. Unlike in the past, she shut the door after she came in.
“I prefer to not be interrupted,” she said.
“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” I replied.
We spent the hour reviewing her work for the week, especially her lab report. When we finished, she closed her books and straightened her notes.
“I was asked to join the honors program and invited to the biology lunch,” she said.
“Congratulations! When did you find out?”
“Yesterday.”
“Do you know who the guy is? For the lunch I mean.”
“No. I didn’t realize it had to be a guy.”
“Last year they switched to one guy and one girl because of pressure from Dean Parker. That kind of made a mess of their system which was supposed to have just eight students, so they added some additional students temporarily. Once my year graduates, it’ll be four guys and four girls, rather than the top two students in each year.”
“But shouldn’t it be the best students?”
“Yes, it should. But Dean Parker disagrees and she caused enough trouble that they chose to change it. She tried to have me dismissed from the honors program and kicked out of the lunches.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because she regularly accused the biology department of discrimination, and I provided a target of opportunity because of problems with my lab partners who had a lover’s quarrel and refused to work together.”
“She blamed you for that?”
“Not the spat, but because during one lab class, I opted to work with Mark, the guy, rather than Sally, mainly because I felt it easier to deal with him. When he had come into the lab, he said ‘hello’ and was cool. When Sally came in, she called him a nasty name. Dean Parker said I was sexist and discriminating, and demanded Sally, who was a ‘C’ student, replace me in the honors program and at the lunch, simply because she was female.”
“Some people simply do NOT know their place,” Kimiko replied.
“What do you mean?”
“If she was a ‘C’ student, she should know she didn’t belong in the honors program!”
“I don’t think Sally knew what Dean Parker was proposing. But it all worked out OK in the end.”
“Did it? Why disrupt a program designed for the best students? This dean seems intent on totally disrupting social order and causing chaos!”
She sounded VERY much like Deacon Vasily, my grandparents, and my grandparents’ friends. There was no doubt in my mind they would classify Dean Parker as «некультурный», and say she was disrupting the social order. The thing was, I agreed that the social order needed some disrupting, but I felt Dean Parker’s methods, and worse, her goals, were ultimately destructive.
“I know quite a few people who agree with you. I do, to a point. My problem is discrimination against ANYONE. I prefer a purely merit-based system, but I also understand that some changes need to happen to reduce the opportunities for discrimination. Dean Parker feels that discriminating against men is an appropriate response to past discrimination against women. I feel that two wrongs don’t make a right.”
“She doesn’t acknowledge there are differences between men and women?”
“I think that’s a hard question to answer because in some ways, the answer is ‘yes’, and in others, the answer is ‘no’. Honestly, I have trouble making sense out of her arguments. My advice is just for you to continue to get straight A’s and forget about Dean Parker.”
“Thanks for reviewing with me.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry, but I need to go to the computer lab to meet Kristin so she can help me with my programming assignment.”
“See you at lunch?” Kimiko asked hopefully.
“Absolutely!”
We both left my room, and after I locked the door, I headed for the elevator while Kimiko went down the hall towards her room. Ten minutes later, I was sitting in front of the screen of an Apple IIe computer with Kristin sitting next to me. I turned it on and it booted into DOS. I put a floppy diskette which had data created by the professor into the second disk drive, which would also allow me to save my program. Once that was completed, I began typing in the commands I’d written out longhand when I’d worked with Kristin earlier in the week.
About an hour later, I had the code entered and typed RUN, only to be met with ‘?Syntax Error’ on the screen. With some prompting from Kristin, I fixed my typographical error, then tried again, only to be met with another similar error. It took about ten minutes before the program would actually run, and much to my surprise, it not only completed, but the data printed on the screen was actually properly sorted.
“I TOLD YOU SO!” Kristin exclaimed.
“I’m shocked, actually.”
“Why? This isn’t nearly so difficult as you think it is! This is your third program, and like learning to play the guitar or screwing, the more you do it, the better you become!”
I chuckled, “Is that so?”
“Your first time, were you as good as you are now?”
“I’m probably not the one to judge, but I’d say most likely I wasn’t.”
“So you learned from each experience and improved, just as you do when you practice playing your guitar.”
“I suppose so, yes.”
“Programming is the same. Once you get the hang of it, you can do it, and you get better the more you do it.”
“That does make sense.”
“Good. After lunch you can pay me back for the help, if you’re interested.”
“I thought we were taking a break,” I replied.
“I haven’t found anyone I want to dance with, at least not just yet. If your dance card is open, I wouldn’t mind a couple of slow dances! And remember, YOU taught ME how to slow dance!”
“True,” I chuckled. “And I don’t have any plans after lunch except for karate at 2:00pm.”
“We should have enough time for two slow dances if we finish lunch before 1:00pm. Save your program so you can turn it in on Monday.”
“Yes, Ma’am!” I replied.
I saved my program, ejected the floppy disk, and then shut off the computer. We walked back to the dorm and after I put my stuff away, we joined most of the gang for lunch.
“Mike, would it be OK if I rode to church with you tonight?” Angie asked.
“Sure.”
“Thanks. I’ll call Tatyana and tell her I don’t need a ride. I’ll ride regularly with you, if it’s OK.”
“It is.”
“Cool.”
Clarissa nudged me with her knee under the table but I simply ignored her. I wasn’t sure if she was encouraging me, discouraging me, or simply teasing me, but I could wait until later to find out. After lunch, Clarissa followed me to my room, with Kristin right behind her.
“Plans?” Clarissa asked me with a smirk.
“Some dance lessons before karate,” I grinned.
Clarissa laughed, “I’ll talk to you after karate!”
She winked and left the room. I shut and locked the door, put on Ravel’s Bolero, and a few minutes later, Kristin and I were dancing to the music. When we finished our dance, we took a short break, had our second dance, then took turns showering. We dressed, though I put on my karate uniform. I lit a cinnamon-scented candle and we sat on the couch with bottles of soda.
“Will that tide you over?” I asked with silly grin.
“You don’t seem to have the same needs,” Kristin said, her voice indicating a question.
“You mean like how often or something else?”
“Just that you seem a bit blasé about sex, as in you wouldn’t be concerned if you didn’t have it regularly.”
“It’s not the focus of my life,” I grinned. “But it’s also not like I’m not getting any!”
“Oh?”
“No names, obviously, and please do not make any assumptions.”
“I wondered where you might be disappearing to on Sundays.”
“Church!” I grinned.
“Our Lady of the Mattress?” Kristin smirked.
“Cute. Is there a problem?”
Kristin shook her head, “No, not really. I’m available if you want to fool around. It just seems as if you aren’t all that interested. And it seems like it’s not just me.”
“I’m not seeing anyone seriously now,” I replied. “And you were dating so I felt it was best to do what you said — take a timeout. I’m guessing you thought you might be more interested in the guy you’ve gone out with than you are?”
“No. I’m just not sure I want to fuck him. That was NEVER a question with you after you sang to me!”
“Is there something wrong?”
Kristin shrugged, “Not really. I guess the spark just isn’t there. It is with you, but you won’t catch me dead in church, which means we can do this,” she swept her hand towards the bed, “but that’s kind of where it has to end.”
“True. It sounds to me as if you need to find a different guy.”
“I think so. I think I’ll tell Nick that I don’t want to go out with him again. Know any guys who you might recommend?”
“You OK with a Freshman?”
“It’s only one year’s difference, so it’s not as if I’m robbing the cradle. Who?”
“Jack Pearson,” I said. “He seems like a pretty nice guy.”
“He’s a narc!” she protested.
“Only because Tony was smoking so much that clouds of smoke were rolling into Jack’s room. I suspect you would have complained to Teri if something like that happened with your roommate and you couldn’t get the roommate to stop.”
“I suppose.”
“Cut the guy some slack. He didn’t want to get expelled or kicked out of the dorms because some other guy was dealing pot.”
“Think he’ll ask me out?”
“He’d have to know you were interested and available. You certainly weren’t shy in letting ME know you were interested and available!”
Kristin laughed, “True. You got cookies AND nookie!”
“Chocolate-chip cookies and cherry nookie!” I replied.
“Cute!”
“If your mom sent more of those cookies, share one with Jack and take it from there.”
“Maybe I will.”
There was a knock at the door which I was sure was Robby, Lee, and Angie. Kristin and I exchanged a quick kiss, I put the soda bottles in the carton to return to the Quick Mart for the deposit, and then we left my room. Kristin headed down the hall and my fellow «karateka» and I got into the elevator to ride down to the lobby.
“Did you finish your computer assignment?” Robby asked.
“Yes. Kristin has me basically on the right path. Mainly, she beat me about the head and shoulders until she cured me of my silly mental block.”
“It really isn’t that difficult, at least the first semester,” Robby said. “Lee and I are taking our third course now.”
“Why?” Angie asked. “I thought you guys were biochem majors.”
“We are,” Lee replied. “But we’re also convinced that computers are going to become more and more powerful and more and more important to doing research. We figure a biochem major and a computer science minor is the perfect combo. You’re in education, right?”
“Primary ed. I don’t think I’ll see much in the way of computers in the classrooms, at least not anytime soon.”
“You might be surprised. There’s a ton of educational software available for the Apple II, including for younger kids. And computers are going to get cheaper. You might want to talk to Kristin about that. Her semester project is a program to teach kindergartners to recognize letters of the alphabet.”
“Interesting,” Angie said. “I guess I should talk to her.”
“You have to student teach, right?”
“Yes, during my Senior year. I’ll be in Summer school again next Summer to finish catching up for the semester I missed, so it’ll be the same time as Mike and the others are Seniors.”
“Around here?”
“That’s usually where the assignments are, but I could request somewhere else if I wanted to teach in, say, an inner-city school. Then I could ask for Cleveland, for example. But it has to be in Ohio, so I can get my Ohio teaching license.”
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