My mom got a wistful look in her eye. “I’d like to go there.”
“Dad and I should take you! It’s really bright and fun. You should go.”
Dad gave me a look. “I have to work the next few weekends.”
“Well, we could go during the week—”
“Not if you’re working on the wine train.”
“I don’t have that job yet. And I’m sure we’ll find a good time to go.”
But I couldn’t argue them into having more fun, and the pressure of having to stay and justify to my parents why the things I did were good things for them to do too felt too much for me right now. Needing a breather already, I got up and went to the kitchen.
How was I ever going to make it through next year when everyone went off to college without me?
I closed my eyes and opened them again, gathering my wits. “Want me to make you popcorn, Dad? Get you guys something to drink?”
“Sure,” he called. I felt relieved for something to do away from them, then guilty for that relief. If this was how it was going to be like after the summer, I didn’t know if I’d survive.
I took the air popper out of the dishwasher.
Yes, the dishwasher.
Tim Staunton had his quirks, and he took a desire to not waste—money, water, time, or space—to maniacal levels.
He stored appliances in the dishwasher because he decided we never had enough dishes to run it and it was just basically a cabinet, so why not? We probably used enough dishes to fill it up daily but questioning Dad logic never went far.
Dad didn’t only save weird things in the kitchen. He referred to his collection of plastic containers in the shower as the “bucket brigade.” He hated wasting the cold water that came out of the shower before it heated up, so he used it on the begonias.
He removed the light from the vacuum cleaner to reduce energy usage. I tried to get him to explain to me exactly how much energy he’d save removing that bulb, but he wouldn’t. Or couldn’t.
I was pretty sure he still had the first dollar he ever earned locked away somewhere.
Is there any wonder his hobby was calculating what he needed to do to maximize his retirement?
I couldn’t take away all his careful planning. Not with someone who scrimped and saved as much as he did, in all the strange places.
He strolled into the kitchen just as the popcorn was finishing, whistling some song from the seventies while I poured juice.
“Dad,” I said in a low voice. “I have to ask. About mom’s care. Are there any alternatives? Or are the only choices either I have to stay and help you or you have nothing?”
He paused. “Those aren’t the only choices. We could hire an aid or a home health nurse once she gets that far—bathing, eating, moving. Honestly, I think she’s frightened about what’s going to come, and she’ll be more comfortable with family helping her. Not some stranger.”
I nodded. “And how far out are you from retirement?”
He sighed. “To get the full amount, eighteen months.”
I nodded again, calculating in my head. Summer, plus school year plus another summer. “Okay. So you really just need this year.”
“Yeah, kiddo.” He gave me a pained look. “I’m sorry to ask you to stay when we had it all planned for you to go to school. This isn’t easy.”
I needed to talk to Tate.
But discussing it with him would just make a hard decision even harder. And I couldn’t let my dad or mom down.
I just couldn’t.
Did that mean I’d made my decision?
Sometimes decisions were made without conscious thought. Because there was no other real choice.
We went back into the living room.
I handed my mom her drink and steeled myself to say the next part, because once I said it, I wasn’t going back. “If you need me, I’ll do it. I’ll help out Dad and you. If I get a job on the wine train, I’ll take classes here locally until Dad retires and I can transfer.”
Relief washed over both of my parents’ faces. And I knew I’d said the right thing. Made the only choice. I’d always pick my mom and dad.
Even if it broke my heart.
I bit my lip to stop it from trembling and wrapped my arms around myself to hold in the ache in my chest.
Tate and I could have this summer. After that?
Things weren’t looking very good.
Eight
Book Learnin'
Tate
Still glowing after my date with Audrey, I walked into the kitchen, holding a plastic bag dangling from my fingers. I didn’t know if it was better to hide my purchases behind my back or act like they were nothing. Though I wasn’t that great of an actor, I decided to behave like they were no big deal. Maybe my family wouldn’t ask. And if they did, I had purchased camouflage after all, so hopefully they wouldn’t examine anything too closely.
Perry glanced up from by the sink, where he was shucking corn for Mom. Apparently we were having lobster boil for dinner, judging by the newspapers, spices, potatoes, and shellfish spread all over the counters. Lobsters listlessly waved their rubber banded claws from a container filled with water. Poor buggers.
“Hey,” I called, as I walked in.
“Did you ace your oral?” Perry asked with a leer and a salacious wink.
“What?” I shook my head, not understanding. Then I set the bag down on the floor, walked over to where he was, and shoved him hard into the counter. Corn silk and husks flew everywhere. “Shut up, asshole.”
“Oww. Bastard,” he hissed, not unkindly, because he knew he deserved it. “Guess that means no.” He bent down to pick up the corn husks, and I helped him. That shit went everywhere, and I hadn’t meant to sully Mom’s kitchen.
“Do I even want to know what you’re talking about?” Mom asked as she cut and prepared potatoes.
“No,” I said, at the same time Perry said, “Yes.” Mom looked between us, confused.
I glared at my brother and then sighed in defeat. “I asked Audrey Staunton to go out with me. Officially.”
The delight in my mom’s eyes overtook her face, and she beamed. “That’s wonderful news! I mean, I assume she said yes.”
“Yes,” I said. “She did.” My skin tingled with happiness. Audrey was finally mine.
“‘Bout time,” Perry muttered. “I was about to ask her out myself.”
A squawk escaped me. “Quit saying shit like that.”
“Stop teasing the baby,” Mom said.
I glared at her. “Jesus Christ, Mom. I’m eighteen. That’s an adult. Not a baby.”
She nudged my shoulder with hers, her hands occupied. “You’ll always be my baby boy.”
“Hey, what about this baby boy?” Perry asked, gesturing at his chest, back to shucking corn.
“Oh, you too, Perry,” she said, to placate him. “You’re my widdle baby, too.”
He nodded, mollified.
I shook my head. “Need help?” I asked them, as usual.
“Nope,” they both said, as usual.
Mom said, “Dinner in maybe an hour and a half,” and I left them, snagging my bag and heading to my room. They hadn’t noticed my purchases.
After I dropped Audrey off at her house, where I gave her a quick peck and let her slide out the passenger side door—because otherwise I wouldn’t ever leave—I drove to Barnes and Noble and hung out in the psychology section.
Which was located conveniently next to the sexuality section.
Which I knew beforehand, since I’d investigated a map of the store online.
Despite the talk with my brothers and a few online articles, I still needed specific information. Perry and Bert hadn’t helped me plan my approach, and I was by nature a planner. I figured I’d buy The Joy of Sex or something similar to fill in the blanks. But as I stood in the aisles, my body placed closer to the psychology section than the sexuality section, I scanned the lurid pink, purple, and all-black covered books, getting increasingly disc
ouraged by the titles.
I did not need a book on sex games. Nor on sexual dysfunction or how to connect with my lover after we’d been apart. Nor on premature ejaculation—at least I hoped I didn’t need that—or Viagra for the Soul.
Where was First Sex for Dumbasses? Although truth be told, if that book existed, I wasn’t buying it. Too embarrassing, and I wasn’t a dumbass. Or rather, I hoped I wasn’t.
I wanted something explaining what the hell to do with a willing woman in my bed and how to make being with me the best thing she’d ever experienced. Actually, I didn’t want to know what to do with some generic woman. I needed to know how to make Audrey come. One specific, magnificent woman.
Could a book really be a substitute for experience? No, of course not.
But maybe I could get some practical tips—as much knowledge as possible—to make our first time amazing.
The worst thing that could happen would be I messed it up so much she’d leave me and never want to come back.
So, no pressure.
Once I’d inspected the meager sexuality selection multiple times, which was hard when you were pretending to be browsing in the neighboring section, my eyes latched onto a book called She Comes First. The title reminded me of Bert’s advice, and it was the closest thing I’d seen on the shelf to what I wanted. Without wanting to linger anymore in the SEX! section of the bookstore, I snatched the slim paperback from the shelf, then picked up a bargain paleo cookbook from an end table as camouflage.
Carrying the sex book under the book on meat and veg, I walked through the huge store to the cash register, getting in line behind an old woman buying a pile of romance books and a kid with a stack of colorful children’s books.
I did my best not to appear guilty. Nothing to see here.
A horribly familiar voice behind me said, “Hey! Tate! How are you?”
I slid the books to my hip and turned to Jade Lopez. I gave her a half smile. Then I grabbed a copy of Sports Illustrated to block the other side of the book.
“Never better,” I said.
“Good, good. After graduation, I’m going to miss you. My mom’s planning her birthday party this summer. It’ll be in a few weeks. Do you think your mom would cater it?”
I wasn’t listening. “Sure.”
“Do you ever come to the tastings?”
Blinking, I fully faced her. “What tastings?”
“For catering.”
“We don’t normally do that. My mom develops a menu for each person, but she usually doesn’t have samples.”
“Oh.” Jade’s face fell. “I just thought I’d see you. Although you can come visit me at Penn.”
Would she ever leave me alone? “Um,” I said. “Maybe. Actually, I’m not sure—"
“Say, how come you never answer my texts?”
I wanted to tell her I blocked her number because I was dating Audrey, but then I heard, “Next!”
“See you around,” I said, and hotfooted it to the register.
Face burning, I paid with cash, turning down the perky male cashier’s kind offers to apply for a credit card and save ten percent because Christ, couldn’t he shut up and let me out of this hellhole? I was pretty sure the cashier was onto me because he winked at me as I left. But whatever. I finished before Jade and speed walked to the MLR trying to make it look like I wasn’t speed walking.
Now home, having survived the gauntlet of shoppers, Jade, cashier, and my mom and brother, I pulled the books out of the bag. I set the paleo one under my laptop to use as a stand, opened the magazine, and hid the sex book inside. Then I leaned back on my bed, my back against the headboard, and started reading.
Oh, damn. I picked the right one.
I read a chapter, then set down the book, the motion picture of the day running through my mind—Audrey sitting across from me at Craft, laughing with me at the winery, kissing me at the vineyard.
And I remembered how right she felt under me when we fooled around in the MLR.
Making out with her in the front seat of my truck was hot, but I needed to up my game. Maybe I’d rent a hotel, because we needed time and privacy. Although that wouldn’t be for a while, because we weren’t ready for going all the way yet. Just reading this book made me feel out of my league.
I read through the next chapter, and the next. I needed to quit before dinner because damn, this book turned me on, thinking of all the ways I could turn her on, which of course made my dick remember its earlier enthusiasm. It was definitely not happy with me for getting it all riled up again and not doing anything about it. But now was not the time. I couldn’t very well walk into family dinner after just having jerked off. Though dinner with a hard-on wasn’t much better.
How much time did I have?
I stuck my head out my door and yelled down to the kitchen. “Do I have time for a shower?”
“No,” my mom called back. “Dinner in five.”
Perry chuckled like he guessed what I wanted to do. Fuck him. Forget it. I put the book down and thought of everything disgusting thing I could think of to make the boner deflate. A few choice memories from Mrs. Sanchez’s health class killed it for me. Thank you, Mrs. Sanchez.
I made it through the meal, helped with the dishes, excused myself from whatever my brothers were watching on TV, and returned to my room for the novel experience of being excited to study a new subject. Taking a deep breath, I opened the book again, finally getting past the introductory stuff and into the nuts and bolts part—so to speak.
Several hours later, in the middle of the night, I’d read the book the whole way through. And I was horny as all hell and had a very clear idea of how I could practice if I couldn’t practice on Audrey.
The photo on the cover of the book had a papaya in the foreground, with a lonely little banana faded into the background. Cheeky, yes. But it gave me an idea.
Shirtless, with a boner raging in my gray sweatpants, I snuck into the kitchen, hoping no one would see me and that my mom had some kind of melon she wouldn’t miss. Or, hell, a papaya, not that I liked papaya. Fruit. I needed fruit. Because she was a caterer, we often had all sorts of random food around.
No one caught me headed into the kitchen, and praise my mother—although she could never, ever know what I intended on doing—I found a flat of ripe peaches on the counter.
No, I was not going to reenact Call Me by Your Name and beat off with the peach. Although now my brain was in the mode, it didn’t sound as weird of an activity as when I first heard about it. It almost sounded sexy and fun. Almost.
But this peach had a different purpose, that of teaching dummy. I could learn to lick it.
Yes, I felt really fucking pervy.
I found three peaches, sliced them in half, threw away the pits, and set the fruit on a plate. I also grabbed a bunch of paper towels.
Then I slunk back to my bedroom and closed and locked my door. Feeling like a total dumbass from First Sex for Dumbasses, I put a peach on a paper towel on my bed. Then I lay on my belly, my hard cock grinding against the mattress, and positioned the fruit as if it were the area between her legs. I tested my tongue on it, giving it a careful lick.
Okay, it just tasted like a peach.
But I could do this.
Following the diagrams in the book, I practiced slow licks around the edges and long, rhythmic caresses with my fingers and my tongue.
This could be fun.
Problem was, instead of a peach, I was imagining my face between Audrey’s legs. This book told me not to spread her legs far like in a porno, but instead to keep them close together, and I pretended her knees were over my shoulders. I kind of got into it, to tell the truth.
A knock sounded on my door, and I fucking freaked.
“What?” I said in an irritated and likely guilty voice, shoving a pillow over the peaches and closing the magazine over the book.
“What’cha doing in there?” called Perry, jiggling the door handle. I could hear the grin on the jerk’s face.
“None of your fucking business,” I growled, scrambling around for my T-shirt.
He rattled the doorknob again and thank god I’d locked it. “Which porn star are you watching, little bro?”
“Fuck off. None of them.”
“So, can I come in?”
“No.”
He laughed harder. “You sound kinda guilty, dude. You still a virgin after today?”
I’d had enough. “Leave me alone,” I growled. “Unless you wanna join me.”
That got him to leave. “Enough said.” And I heard his footsteps pad down the hall as he chuckled the whole way back to his room.
Bastard.
With a hard dick and peach juice all over my face, I needed to shower, pronto. I’d had enough practice for the day. When the time came, I could do this.
I hoped.
Stripping off my clothes, I went into my bathroom, turned on the shower, and stepped into the warm water, prepared for a very fast beat-off session. Frankly, I’d had enough teasing today, from touching the curves of Audrey’s body and getting a glimpse of her nipples, to knowing the way she tasted and getting to put my arms around her hot body. And now spending all this time with my dirty fantasies of her, I needed that release I earlier told her I could do without.
Water sluicing down my body, I gripped my cock and stroked hard, then came fast, gasping, wishing I could have the real thing.
Forever.
Nine
Finals
Audrey
I nestled in the dark blue pleather booth across from Wren at her mom’s diner and put my knee up on the bench next to me. Because of finals, we’d gotten out of class early, and I’d joined her for lunch after school. Since we’d been busy studying all week, I hadn’t really caught up with her, but some things I didn’t want to put in a text.
Tate had some pre-graduation family thing to go to today. In a few hours I’d have to take my mom to the doctor’s office because Dad was on shift. But for now I was enjoying the few moments I had with my best friend before I had to leave to pick Mom up.
Boy on a Train: The All American Boy Series Page 8