by Lux Zakari
“If you were turned around, I couldn’t do this.” He sank all the way inside her, and she cried out from the jolt of both pleasure and pain. “You like this, don’t you?”
Valerie nodded, words failing her as he reached around to touch her clit. She lost herself in the moment, every stroke of his cock bringing her closer to the edge.
With one hand still rubbing her clit, he circled her waist with his other hand, his palm running over her bare, damp skin. “You have the most incredible body. Why did it take me so long to notice you?”
His words momentarily jostled her out of her reverie. She realized then that even though she had drifted off to sleep with his name on her tongue for years, he hadn’t noticed she was alive until recently. However, he quickly brought her back into the moment as his movements increased in speed and he applied more pressure to her clit.
“I want you to come, screaming my name,” he said into her shoulder. “And I want you to scream it so loud everyone outside this closet can hear it.”
“Michael, I’m so close...”
“Do it. Come for me.”
As usual, she obeyed him, climaxing with a force she didn’t realize was possible. She gripped one of the crutches and muffled her cries into the sleeve of a musty fur coat hanging in the closet. He pushed inside her a few more times before he came, letting out a choked groan of pleasure.
The air in the small space was hot and stifled. The only sound was the both of them gasping for breath. Finally, Michael withdrew his now limp cock from her body and dropped the used condom on the carpeted closet floor. She heard him zip his pants and she slowly turned around, her gauchos still hovering on her upper legs and her bra bunched above her breasts. “Michael...”
He cupped her face in both hands and gave her a kiss that surprised her with its sweetness. “I need another beer. I’ll meet you downstairs.” He cracked open the door and looked back at her once more, his gaze penetrating and undecipherable. Then he left, leaving her alone in the darkness.
She tugged on a string dangling from a bare light bulb overhead. Sick yellow light instantly filled the closet, revealing the beer soaking the brown shag carpet, the discarded condom draped across the toe of a rain boot and the wetness covering the inside of her thighs. She quickly tugged her pants up and smoothed her hair into place before returning to the party, which now seemed otherworldly and unfamiliar. She searched the crowd for Michael, but he was nowhere to be found.
Chapter 6
Sunday
February 16, 1975
“How was your Valentine’s Day?” Valerie asked into the telephone receiver, inspecting her short, neat fingernails coated with clear polish.
“Fun,” Shannon chirped. “Standard, but fun. Rick came in as promised and took me out to dinner. He gave me roses, and I gave him a blow-job.”
“That sure sounds like the standard, all right.” Valerie picked at a ragged cuticle.
“What can I say? Rick’s not imaginative, but thankfully he makes up for it by being sweet.” Shannon paused. “Do I dare ask if there’s been any word?”
The vise that constantly gripped Valerie’s heart tightened another notch. “No, there hasn’t been.”
“I’m sorry, Val. I wish I knew what to say aside from the obvious, which is Michael Vartanian is a total moron who doesn’t deserve someone intelligent and beautiful like—”
“Don’t say like me.” Valerie looked over her shoulder to ensure no one could overhear her, but the living room doors were closed. “Don’t say it, because I won’t believe it. Of course this has something to do with me. If it didn’t, Michael would care about me.”
“That’s unfortunately not even true,” Shannon said patiently, as if she and her friend hadn’t already spent countless hours analyzing Michael Vartanian’s every move and motive. “You know the score, boys are stupid. They’re so wrapped up in their goal of getting someone to jerk them off they forget girls have feelings too.”
“Great. That makes me feel ten times better.”
“I don’t expect to make you feel better. I just need you to know you’re not the problem. It’s him. Aside from the standard boy bullshit, he’s completely screwed up. You have to admit he’s a classic case. His dad’s a preacher, so of course he’s going to want to rebel against him. And I heard his mom ran out on the family when he was in junior high. Is that true?”
“Who knows?” Valerie wiped away the tears brimming in her eyes, forcing her tone to sound neutral. “It’s not like he’s ever come to me wanting to actually talk.”
“In any case, if his mom ditched him, he’s probably got more issues than I thought,” Shannon continued. “Maybe her abandoning him made him hate all women. Or maybe he just can’t deal with rejection. I know! I bet he’s afraid of getting close to anyone or getting his hopes up about a person. He probably figures he’s just beating you to the chase. He needs to leave you before you leave him, because otherwise he can’t handle it.”
“All he’s doing is breaking my heart.”
“Then you need to forget him!” Shannon growled with frustration. “Val, there can be five million reasons why Michael does what he does, but that doesn’t change the fact that what he’s doing is hurting you. And you shouldn’t want to be with someone who doesn’t care if he makes you toss and turn and torture yourself.”
“It’s easy for you to say. You have Rick. People who are already happy have no business giving advice to those with actual problems.”
“Look, all I’m saying is that at the very least, let him come to you. Let him prove himself to you before you waste any more tears on him.”
“Fine. I will.”
“Good. In the meantime, let’s start thinking proactively in a different direction. Rick already said he’d set you up with one of his friends at Rockhurst. I see you with a sexy twenty-three-year-old who’s studying to be a doctor or something.”
“Let me know when you find him.” Valerie tried to keep the darkness out of her voice as she let her friend weave a future of happiness for her, a future she couldn’t imagine herself.
* * * *
Breeze sat back in her vanity’s chair as she inspected the turquoise pendant set in the shape of a silver sun and dangling from a chain. “What’d you do, steal it?”
“No.” Michael narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
She ignored him and picked up the necklace between her thumb and index finger, careful not to smear her freshly applied polish. She looked at the pendant as if it was a still-twitching centipede. “Did you raid boxes of your mother’s stuff for a gift again?”
Michael heaved an annoyed sigh as he paced her bedroom. “No, it came straight from the heart. And my wallet.”
“Don’t get all sarcastic.” She dropped the necklace back in his palm. “Based on past Christmases and birthdays and the like, can you blame me for being suspicious?”
“No, but I can blame you for being a bitch.”
Breeze turned to face her vanity’s mirror and ran a comb through her hair. “Where’d you get the money anyway? I thought you quit your career as Kenton’s best gas station attendant.”
He gritted his teeth. “I earned some cash by doing a friend a few favors.”
“Gee, that doesn’t sound shady or anything.” Breeze dropped the comb in a drawer. “What, did you sell weed or something equally unrespectable to buy me this lovely token of your affection?”
“Unrespectable—that’s an interesting word choice, coming from someone who smokes enough of the stuff.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“Get off me!” She gave him a vicious shove and stepped away from him. “Don’t you ever touch me like that again!”
“Apparently, you don’t want me to touch you in any way again.”
“Is that what this is about? Sex?” Breeze’s voice was an octave higher than usual. “You come here to say ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’—two days late—and try to give me a present that looks like it came out of a Crack
er Jack box then expect me to put out?”
Michael threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I don’t want or need anything from you anymore.” Breeze snatched up her coat, which had been draped over the back of her vanity’s chair. “You know, I made some changes in hopes you would too, but you didn’t and you never will.”
“What changes did you make, other than increase the number of people you’ve fucked?”
“I gave you space.” A crack in her icy facade had finally appeared. “I gave you time to think everything over. I tried to give you a tiny glimmer of how laissez-faire you treat me. And you still don’t get it.”
“So it’s over?”
She stared wordlessly him for a moment, her gaze flickering over his face. Finally, her jaw set and her expression hardened. “Yeah, it’s over.” The look on her face suggested she had other places she had to be.
* * * *
“Mmm, honey.” Valerie’s mother dabbed her mouth with a napkin after tasting the spaghetti sauce simmering on the kitchen stove. She pointed over her shoulder toward the front door. “Can you see who that is?”
“Sure.” Valerie abandoned cutting the loaf of Italian bread and made her way to the front door to see who had knocked. Her breath caught in her throat as she peered through the peephole and saw Michael, his appearance distorted in the small, curved piece of glass. His nose looked like a potato as he attempted to look through the hole back at her. Stunned, she glanced at her reflection in the hall mirror and wiped a bread crumb off her lip before opening the door.
“Hey,” he said with a wolfish grin. As always, he wore his low-slung, faded jeans, suede jacket and the aviator sunglasses. “Surprised to see me?”
“Yes,” she answered honestly as she joined him on the porch. “You haven’t been around much. Not since New Year’s.”
“I lost you after I left that closet.” He shrugged. “These things happen.”
Her gaze fell to her feet. She found it hard to believe he “lost” her for an entire month. Even though the winter semester was over and she no longer had US History with him, she couldn’t help but feel he’d had plenty of opportunities—on campus, around town, over the telephone—to speak to her. No one was impossible to find in Kenton.
“So, here I am.” He stretched out his arms then dropped them to his sides. “And I come bearing a Valentine’s Day gift. A belated Valentine’s gift, but a gift all the same.”
Valerie looked up, her mouth parting in astonishment. “I’m your valentine?”
“That’s right. My valentine of ’75.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a silver-and-turquoise necklace. “Here you go.”
“Oh, Michael!” Her face flushed, and she thought her whole face would crack from smiling so wide. She took the necklace from him and held it flat in her open palm, inspecting it with love. “It’s beautiful, I love it. Thank you so much.”
He shrugged. “No problem.”
“I never thought I’d be your valentine.”
Michael tapped her on the nose. “You never should have doubted me.”
* * * *
Valerie took off the gold locket she was wearing and smiled, her eyes shining. “Will you fasten it for me?”
“Sure,” Michael said.
She turned around and scooped up her thick hair, exposing the nape of her neck. He carefully draped the necklace around her and fumbled with the fastener, impressed with and surprised by her excitement over the gift. The only thing that would’ve made the moment better was if Valerie were Breeze.
Michael bit his lip as he stared at the back of Valerie’s head. His stomach braided every time he thought about his now officially ex-girlfriend. When he thought about whom she was spending her time with—and what they were doing together—he teetered on the brink of nausea. He was surprised Valerie—a fairly sensitive, intuitive soul, he had decided—didn’t notice the way his hands shook. How he managed to fasten the necklace, he’d never know.
“Honey?” An older, dark-haired woman appeared at the door and noticed Michael. “Oh, hello.”
Valerie quickly made introductions. “Mom, this is Michael. Michael, my mom.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Mrs. Mercer smiled. “How do you know Valerie? Are you in the Honors Program too?”
Michael smirked, amused. “Not exactly.”
“Look what Michael gave me.” Valerie turned toward her mother and lifted her chin so Mrs. Mercer could see the pendant. Her happiness and naivety regarding the necklace caused Michael’s insides to churn.
“It’s lovely,” Mrs. Mercer said. “Michael, perhaps you’d like to stay for dinner tonight?”
Michael’s first inclination was to decline and make a hasty retreat, but the hopeful look on Valerie’s face was enough to make his gut plunge with pity. “All right, I guess.”
“Great. Come inside.” Mrs. Mercer held the door open. “Valerie, do you want to set another plate for your guest?”
“Of course.” Valerie scurried off to set the table.
Michael shuffled inside past Mrs. Mercer and looked around the hall, remembering the last time he was here, he’d made Valerie touch herself until she came, right on the very couch where the Mercer family probably watched TV every night. He wondered how that memory would go over as a conversation starter.
“Michael?” Mrs. Mercer’s voice cut into his thoughts. “Are the lights bothering your eyes?” She gestured to his aviators as she shut the front door.
“Oh.” He touched the frames instinctively. “Um, yeah.”
“I’ll turn some of them off,” she said pleasantly. “Then you can take off your sunglasses.” She switched off a few lamps, and Michael reluctantly removed his aviators.
“Is Dad eating with us tonight?” Valerie called from the dining room. Plates and silverware clattered on the table.
“Yes, he’s not working late for once.” Mrs. Mercer entered the dining room, followed by Michael. “I think it’s wonderful. And so opportune too! He’ll definitely want to meet your new friend.”
Again, Michael tried to squelch the queasiness boiling in his gut.
Valerie dropped the last fork and knife beside the fourth plate. “Done!”
“All right, I’ll call you both when dinner’s ready.” Mrs. Mercer returned to the kitchen. As soon as her back was turned, Valerie grabbed Michael’s hand and, like a can tied to a wedding day car, dragged him upstairs to her bedroom, which looked exactly as he’d expected: meadow and mountain landscape paintings hanging on lavender walls, multiple photographs of friends and family and a wood-framed bed with a scalloped canopy and cascading white beads at each corner. A fluffy white unicorn sat in the middle of bed, staring at Michael with black beaded eyes.
Valerie dropped the locket she’d worn into a music box with a tiny rotating ballerina inside and blushed. “Not really the room of a typical college senior, huh?”
“Not at all.” He thought of Breeze’s small, two-bedroom apartment she shared with Lisa, and how tattered, curling band posters and faded tapestries covered the walls, the stereo rested on a secondhand table with dog-chewed legs and a row of nail polishes perpetually stood in a ruby-rainbow line atop the rickety coffee table. He suddenly wished he was there more than any place in the world.
“I’m sure I’ll care more about decorating once school is over and I have my own place.” She let out a nervous giggle and sank down on the edge of the bed. Her gaze followed him as he looked around the room, expressionless. An awkward silence fell between them, and she fidgeted with the necklace he had given her. “So, how are you?”
He absently picked up the record player’s needle and put it down again. “I’ve been better.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Nope.”
She picked at a loose thread on her bedspread. “How’s Breeze?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know.” Even though he’d seen her little more than an hour ago, he realized he’d
told the truth. How was Breeze? What was she doing now? Was she celebrating their break-up by giving free hand-jobs in front of the student union building? He attempted to ignore the way his insides twisted at the thought and instead focused his attention on all the knickknacks adorning Valerie’s walls and shelves. “We broke up.”
Valerie’s eyebrows lifted. “You did?”
He ignored her and pointed to a framed unicorn illustration hanging on the wall. “What’s with this weird unicorn obsession of yours? Explain it to me.”
“Michael! Don’t change the subject.” Darkness fell across her face. “Listen, I know I’m your second choice. Maybe I’m not your choice at all. Maybe I’m just convenient.”
Michael sighed and grabbed her hand, tugging her to her feet. “How could you be anyone’s second choice with an ass like this?” He grabbed her bottom, pulling her toward him in the process.
She let out a shriek of laughter and squirmed in his arms, but made no real effort to move away, clearly enjoying his hands on her.
“Hey,” he said suddenly, looking out the window. “Who’s that guy?”
She followed his gaze to the yard next door, where a sandy-haired, middle-aged man shoveled his driveway free of snow. “That’s Mr. Krauss. He’s been our next-door neighbor forever.”
“I see.” His hands rested on her waist, and he lowered his head. “Did you ever fuck him?”
“What?” The word left Valerie’s mouth as a gust of air. “Are you serious? No! He’s my father’s age.”
“Did you ever want to fuck him?” he asked, his lip inches away from hers.
She shook her head in the negative. “He used to give me Halloween candy when I went trick-or-treating at his house.”
“That’s probably not all he wanted to give you.” He nipped at her lower lip with his teeth. “You’re quite grown up now. I bet he’d love to fuck you.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” she said weakly.
“You’re sure?” Michael arched an eyebrow. “We need to put that to the test.” He backed her up against the glass of the window. “Let’s see if he gets jealous. Then we’ll know if he wants you or not.”