Becky locked the van and they walked up the driveway and then past the garage to the door. Addison put his ear there just in case someone might be home. Whenever his family went out of town they’d even leave the stereo or the T.V. on but for the Darrows apparently the light was enough. He heard nothing. Addison opened the door and then went in taking Becky by the hand and closing the door behind her.
“We should have music or something,” Addison said as he walked ahead of her holding her hand. He felt like he shouldn’t be here, like he was breaking in, even though Mason had left the key. He felt like anyone could come in here at any time. But the house was perfectly empty. Addison had never been in a perfectly empty house before let alone someone else’s perfectly empty house.
“I don’t want all that,” Becky told him simply. “I’d feel stupid with music. We can just have music in our heads.”
“I gotta go to the bathroom,” Addison said. “You go in the room.”
Mason’s room was clean. Becky looked around, at the paintings, at the sculptures of monsters and unicorns, animals, half done abstractions. She was going through the bookshelf when Addison came beside her and kissed her.
“What’s wrong?” he said.
“You scared me is all.”
“You’re so tense,” he told her. He slipped off her jacket and began rubbing her shoulders. They were so thin. She smelled like perfume. He said, “You’re still a little tense. Are you sure you wanna do this?”
“Yes,” Becky told him, not turning around. She’d been thumbing a book on the shelf. Now her hand stopped. “I just.... I need to be worked into it is all. I can’t just be ready like that.”
“Of course you can’t.” Addison agreed, kissing her neck, burying his face in her hair.
“You smell so good. I love you so much. You don’t know how much,” he was murmuring as he kissed her neck, kissed her shoulders, rubbed his hips against her.
He turned her around, they climbed onto the bed and began to kiss.
Suddenly he stopped. “How did I get you?”
“Huh?”
“How did I get someone like you?” he said. “You’re really...”
“Above you?” she meant it as a joke. But she couldn’t laugh right now.
Helplessly, Addison nodded.
She shook her head seriously and touched his cheek. She kissed him. “No, I’m not,” she told him.
Now she was kissing him, putting her hands in his hair. He’d gotten that special soap, the one that smelled like lavender because she said she liked it. He never would have used it otherwise. He smelled so good and clean. There was something strong about him, even skinny as he was, even when she could feel his bones. They were twined together. He helped her take his shirt off.
“Addison,” her voice was still only half there. His hand was under her shirt. She helped him work off her bra, enjoyed the feel of his hands on her breasts, guided them to her nipples, helped lift the shirt off. He was sucking on her throat and her breasts. His mouth was on one of her nipples when she cried out like he hurt her.
“What?” he shouted.
“Don’t stop,” she told him. He went back to sucking. He didn’t stop. He didn’t stop for a long time. When he did he took her hands solemnly in his, and then he brought them down to his zipper. He half stood up so she could unbutton his pants.
“You know the bed sheets are fresh?” he told her.
It seemed so out of the blue.
“I just wanted you to know. The sheets are clean. But we have to change them before we go.”
When someone said something so almost completely out of place all Becky could do was ignore it. She helped Addison pull down his jeans, and then his briefs, and then she kissed him there. She sucked him there for a while and he looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes while she did it. And then he was helping her out of her jeans and scrambling for the condom. Kissing her and kissing her the whole time, their hands moving from each others hips to their shoulders, a true balancing act.
Seth McKenna groaned louder than he meant to, and in his own ears sounded like someone dying as, on his tiptoes, he came.
He helped Bonnie from against the wall and was pulling out of her, pulling off the condom and leaking the last of his semen into it before he threw it in the trash can.
She had gone into the bathroom to clean up. When she came back Seth was buckling his belt and reaching for his jacket.
“You wanna watch a movie or something?” she said.
“I gotta go. I can’t be gone for long. I have to be back home early,” he lied.
“It’s Saturday,” Bonnie said. “You don’t even have time for a movie?”
Good God, how much did he have to spell it out?
“No, Bonnie,” he told her, opened up the window and halfway out of it said, “not even for a movie.”
Outside it was cool. It had been hot most of September but now it seemed like autumn was actually setting in. When Seth had lied to his dad about going to see Addison, the first thing in his head was, “That poor fucker’s getting laid tonight and he probably thinks it’s real.”
This, in turn, made Seth want to get laid. And, as usual, Bonnie was up for it.
The only thing, and Seth was beginning to realize this as he jammed his hands in the pockets of his baggy khaki’s and headed down Morrison Street, was that to her it was almost real. She was almost beginning to want more from this than what he was offering. And he never lied to her. He never said hey, this is love. He told her exactly what it was. She’d been cool with it. But now she wanted to do things, go to a movie. Get a burger. The shit didn’t work like that.
“One day,” Seth said looking around. All the houses on Morrison were evenly spaced split levels. Every thirteen and a half steps, he’d counted them, a round light on a pole next to a black mailbox popped up. One day he would have a life like this.
He slapped the mailbox that read CROMPTLEY. Addison wouldn’t be there, not right now.
“Cromptley scores for the first time,” Seth chuckled. And then he realized that Addison, for all of his callousness, would deck him if he said it that way. This was something like baptism for Addison. Addison really thought Becky was his One True and they’d be together forever and blah blah blah.
Seth stopped there, standing in the night with his hand on the mailbox.
Irony left him for once, and he hoped that Addison was right.
Addison was still shaking and holding onto Becky well after it was over. His mouth was open on her breast, and his eyes looked out onto the painted walls of Mason’s room, but he didn’t see. One of his hands was lightly clutched in Becky’s hair and her hand was stroking his. It was so damp. He kissed her, pushed himself up and rolled onto his back. He made sure to never let her go, to let the hand in his hair move to clutch her right hand. He was going limp, a line of his seed went through the bed sheets as he lay on his back and pulled himself closer to her.
“I wish we could stay like this all night,” he said, turning to Becky with a broad smile.
“Mason’s coming home soon, right?”
Addison nodded.
“Then I don’t wish we could stay like this all night. Not here. I keep thinking of Mason walking in.”
Addison sat up now and turned on his side.
“Did you think about that while...?”
“No,” Becky said. “But... I started to think about it a little after it was over.”
“He said he’ll be home at midnight,” Addison turned to look at the clock. It’s about nine now.”
“I think it’s time to get dressed.”
Addison looked at her strangely.
“What?” she said.
“Did you like it?” he asked her. “Was it good? If you didn’t like it—”
“Addison,” Becky touched his cheek. She kissed him quickly. “Yes, I liked it. I liked all of it, and I wish we had our own place or something because... Because the best part was after it, just lying there. Together. But... I keep thinking of someone walking in and....”
She saw the look on Addison’s goofy face. He was only half believing her. She pushed his brown hair out of his face and touched his chest.
“I never really knew what you looked like until tonight,” she told him. “Or felt like. I never knew....”
He put his hand over her mouth quickly and said, “I never knew I loved you this much.”
“That’s what I was going to say,” Becky said. “And I don’t want to go away but...”
“Let’s sleep together tonight,” Addison said.
“You just said Mason would be here in—”
“We can get a room—”
“At a motel?”
“Yes,” Addison told her eagerly.
“But it’s a motel.”
“But we’re sixteen,” Addison said. “I can’t get like a real hotel. I can’t afford the Ramada. I wish I could. We can find something nice. Not like the ratty ones. I want to sleep with you. I want us to sleep together tonight. Please, Rebecca.”
“Yes,” she told him. His face lit up. His wide eyed, long nosed, large mouthed face. She liked that part, and the holding him across her, the feel of him next to her.
“Let’s get dressed,” she said.
“I’ll change the sheets again,” Addison said crawling out of bed so that she saw his body, all of it for the first time. Long, thin, too thin. She saw his ribs. She loved him. The love welled up in her.
“I love you,” he told her as he pulled on his briefs and his jeans. “I love you.”
When they got back Tommy said, “Mason, I gotta go really bad,” and made a beeline for the bathroom while Balliol turned around and around and said, “Nice place, Darrow.”
“No Buckingham Palace, but...” Mason shrugged. “Can I get you food? Drink? It’s all in the refrigerator.”
He opened it up and Balliol said, “Biscuits!”
“Grands. By Pilsbury. About a day old.”
Balliol picked one up and wrapped it in a paper towel. He found the microwave and hit thirty seconds.
“It’ll be good as new,” he said.
The microwave went off with a ping. He pulled it out and said, “Did I see strawberry jam and butter in that fridge?”
“You did,” Mason pulled them out.
“Now,” Balliol said while he was opening up the biscuit and performing surgery, “why don’t you tell me what you were afraid to find when you got back home?”
“Hum?”
“Don’t hum me, Mason. We’ve been sucking up all that Jesus and getting saved. There should be no secrets between brothers in Christ.”
Balliol took a bite out of the biscuit and butter dripped down his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.
“I’d almost think you were serious,” Mason said, taking out the apple juice.
“Um, apple juice,” Balliol reached for a glass. “Actually, I almost was. So. Tell me, what’s up, Mason.”
Mason took a deep breath and crossed the kitchen so he was right up close to Balliol.
“You can’t tell anybody.”
“Then I’m sure I won’t want to.”
“I told Addison Cromptley he could come over here and... lose his virginity.”
“What?” Mason put a hand over Balliol’s mouth.
“Are you serious?”
They heard the toilet flush.
“Yes,” Mason said. “And now I’m starting to think that was stupid of me.”
Balliol just opened his mouth. It stayed open.
“What?” Mason said.
“You... Mason, you really go all out for your friends.”
Mason just looked at him.
“So, how do you feel about sleeping in the bed your best friend just got laid in?”
“What?” Tommy said coming into the kitchen.
Again, Balliol found his mouth wide open.
“Nothing,” Mason said. “Balliol, come to my room with me.”
“Okay?” Balliol shrugged.
“I don’t want to go alone,” Mason said.
“Why not?” said Tommy.
“You know,” Balliol answered before Mason could think of anything, “When you’ve been away for a day... There might be cobwebs. There might be.... anything in there.”
Tommy looked at him strangely, but Balliol just went into the room and said, “Well it doesn’t smell.”
Tommy looked at Mason.
The room looked absolutely neat and ordinary. In fact, maybe no one had been in there.
Mason looked around. Maybe Addison hadn’t been in here. Maybe Becky had said no. Maybe they’d gone someplace else. Maybe... He’d have to tell Addison that he couldn’t go through with this, that he was sorry but they’d have to find someplace else. He’d call him in the morning and let him know.
“The night’s young,” Balliol announced.
“I’m sleepy,” Tommy said, putting a hand to his mouth.
“No you’re not,” Balliol told him.
“I have to get up for church tomorrow.”
“We all have to get up for church tomorrow. But tonight we’re going to stay here,” Balliol said. “Just have a big old fashioned slumber party.”
“Can we paint each other’s nails?” Mason said.
“And do each other’s hair too,” Balliol told him, brightly. “But first we need to order a pizza.”
And then Balliol went toward Mason’s bed, got on his knees and took a big whiff.
“Balliol?” Tommy said in a solicitous tone.
“Just go order a pizza Tommy,” Balliol said.
Tommy thought about saying something else, but turned and left the room.
A second later, Mason came to join Balliol in sniffing the bed.
Balliol turned to him.
“I don’t smell any sex anywhere,” he told him. “It might not have happened at all.”
“I didn’t know it had a smell.”
“Of course it has a smell,” Lincoln Balliol declared.
“I’ve never had sex.”
“Well, neither have I, but I know about it. The smells, the trauma of the first time, sexual addiction, how waiting till you’re married doesn’t necessarily make it better, how fat women like to do it with the lights out and men don’t take their time.”
“Wow,” Mason said. “You must read a lot.”
Balliol shrugged off his vast store of erotic knowledge.
“No,” he said. “I watch a lot of Lifetime.”
Sidney Darrow was getting dressed Sunday morning and whistling to himself, more because he didn’t feel like whistling than because he was in a good mood. When there was too much to think about whistling was always good. He slapped on shaving cream and turned on the hot water in the hotel room.
A long time ago now, though it didn’t seem that long until he considered this, they had all met—that is, he and Joel and Mark—had all met in his parents’ house, in the house that was equally between where Mark lived and where Joel lived. It was over Easter break and Mark was home. He’d arrived from Notre Dame on Maundy Thursday night—what Catholics called Holy Thursday—and Sidney had promptly told him to get rid of his beard and mustache.
“I think I look distinguished,” Mark said.
“I think you look like you just blew in from the set of a Cecil B. Demille epic.”
When Joel saw the beard he burst out laughing and so Mark shrugged and got rid of it. It was agreed that if Joel thought it was stupid it was stupid because Joel was attractive. He was vain about his hair back then. Dukes of Hazzard hair was still in. And he was serious, a student over at Cartimandua College who worked full time. Girls loved serious and sexy.
But Joel was worried that day. He had just turned twenty, and Sidney had just turned sixteen and finally it was Sidney who asked what was wrong because Mark wasn’t going to. Mark was always good at waiting for someone else to ask what was wrong and so it was ironic that, in the end, he became the psychiatrist.