Initiation

by Phil M. Williams

  She frowned. “Of course I’m going to be upset. I really like you, Carter Lynch.”

  Carter smiled. “So do I – I mean I don’t like myself – I mean I do like myself – I mean I really like you too.”

  Sarah giggled. “Let’s go.”

  “Maybe I should drive,” Carter said.

  “I’m a good driver,” she replied.

  “Without a license.”

  “I have my learners.”

  Carter drove the Honda, telling Sarah the story of how he was lured to the park by Amber.

  “I’m going to kill her,” she said.

  Carter continued, telling her how Zach and Justin and the other guys jumped him, holding his arms back as they took their swings. Her blue eyes were wide as he described how he was dragged into the portable toilet. She put her hand over her mouth as he described reaching into the hole to grab the fresh turd. She had a laughing fit when he described shoving the brown mushiness into Justin and Zach’s faces.

  “You didn’t!” she said, still giggling.

  He nodded.

  “That is so gross.”

  “Don’t worry, I washed my hands.”

  Carter pulled the Honda into their neighborhood of vinyl-sided townhouses.

  “Do you wanna drop off the car at your house?” Carter asked. “Your mom might need it.”

  “Not likely,” Sarah said. “She doesn’t even know it’s gone. She’ll be in bed wallowing in her own misery at least through the weekend. Lincoln broke up with her.”

  “That’s too bad,” Carter said as he pulled into the visitor space across from his parents’ house.

  Sarah shrugged. “It was bound to happen.”

  Carter took a deep breath and glanced at Sarah. She was bundled in her red pea coat and gray scarf. His eyes panned down below her long coat. She wore white thermal pajama pants with blue bunnies. He looked up at her.

  “Nice pajamas,” he said.

  She smirked. “You said it was an emergency.”

  He smiled. “I really like you, Sarah Cunningham.”

  She bit the corner of her lower lip. “Do you want to go in?”

  He nodded. “We just have to be quiet. I’m still grounded.”

  Carter and Sarah strolled arm in arm toward the dark house. They slipped under the garage door and tiptoed into the basement. Carter glanced toward the computer, half-expecting his dad to be sitting there in the dark.

  He motioned toward the open bathroom door. He pressed his lips to her ear and said, “I’m gonna clean up.”

  “Can I come in?” she whispered.

  They entered the bathroom. He flipped on the light and shut the door, pressing the lock button on the handle. He peered into the mirror. His eyes were swelling. I’ll have two black eyes, but nothing major. He touched his nose. One side of his long thin nose was sore. Maybe a glancing blow. He sucked in his lower lip, tasted blood, and pressed it back out.

  He turned to Sarah. “Does my lip look fat?”

  She pouted. “Yeah … it does.”

  She kissed him softly on his lower lip, then on each eye.

  Carter opened his eyes with a grin. “All better now,” he said. He winced as he pulled his army jacket off and dropped it on the floor.

  “Let me help,” she said. “Raise your arms.”

  Carter held his arms up. She pulled his sweatshirt and T-shirt over his head and piled them in a heap next to his jacket. She ran her fingertips across his defined chest and stomach. She pressed against his stomach muscles and he lurched backwards.

  She put her hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m just sore.”

  He slipped his running shoes off and stepped on the ends of his feet, pulling his socks off without bending over. Sarah removed her scarf and her jacket, hanging them on the door handle. Her breasts moved, braless beneath her thermal pajama top. Her nipples pressed against the fabric, a hint of pink visible between the blue bunnies. He put his hands inside the waistband of his sweatpants.

  “Do you wanna turn around or something?” he asked.

  She shook her head, her eyes locked on his. “Not unless you want me to.”

  He slid his sweatpants down his legs and stepped out. He stood in boxer briefs. She stared at the outline of his semi-erect penis. He turned on the shower and faced her again.

  “It takes a minute to warm up,” he said.

  She nodded, pursing her lips.

  Carter looked at her. “I think you’re really… umm … beautiful.” His face was hot. He looked down. “That was stupid, wasn’t it?”

  She put her hand under his chin, raising his gaze. “No, it wasn’t.”

  He reached into the shower, warm drops pelting the back of his hand. “I’m gonna take these off and get in now.”

  She turned her back to him. He slid his boxer briefs down his legs, his penis pointing out. He glanced in the mirror, catching her eye watching him. He stepped in the shower, the hot water massaging his chest down to his groin. He thought about her body, soft and feminine, wrapped in pajamas. He glanced down at his penis pointing skyward. Relax. This is Sarah. Do not blow this. Think about something else – anything else. How about the fact that you almost had your head shoved in a porta-john. Yeah, that would’ve sucked. She sat on the toilet cover, watching the outline of his body through the rain glass.

  After washing himself, he turned off the shower and grabbed the towel that was draped over the door. He dried himself and stepped out with the towel wrapped around his waist.

  She smiled. “All clean?”

  They carried their clothes into Carter’s room. He turned the overhead light on and shut the door. He dumped his clothes into the hamper. She set her pea coat and scarf on his futon couch.

  “You wanna watch a movie?” Carter asked, fumbling with his dresser drawer, one hand on the towel around his waist.

  “Not really,” she said.

  “We could talk if you want.”

  “I don’t want to talk.”

  “Are you hungry or thirsty? I could go upstairs and –”

  She turned the light out and pressed the lock on the door handle. Dim light from the street lamp cut through the blinds in tiny slivers. She moved toward him like an apparition, her white pajamas glowing in the darkness. She placed her glasses on his dresser. Sarah stood, looking up at him with doe eyes, nibbling on her lower lip. She stepped closer, running her hands along his cheeks, down his upper body, as if she were trying to visualize him with her touch. She stopped at the towel, her hands resting on his obliques. Her breathing was shallow, her chest heaving. He pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth parted and their tongues touched. He pulled her closer with one arm, the other still holding his towel at his waist. She moved her arms up his back, pressing her fingertips into his flesh. He let go of his towel – it stayed in place.

  Carter slid her pajama top up. Sarah raised her arms and he pulled it over her head and dropped it on the floor. Her breasts were full and teardrop shaped, her pink nipples erect. He pulled her close, her chest pressing against his. She tugged on the top of his towel, the fold loosening until his makeshift skirt fell to the ground. She exhaled and ran her soft hands over his skyward erection. He tugged at the waistband of her pajama pants. She slid her pants and underwear past her thighs, letting them fall around her feet. Her legs were pale and toned – flawless. She had a small patch of red pubic hair. Sarah stepped out of her clothes and pushed her naked body against him. She smelled clean, like lavender and soap. His penis was standing straight up against her stomach. He bent slightly at the knees and pulled his penis down, placing it between her legs. He groaned as he moved the head of his erection against her vagina. She breathed deeply, moving her hips. Wetness covered the top of his penis as he parted her labia.

  “Do you wanna move to the bed?” he asked.

  She nodded, her lips swollen.

  He grabbed a condom from his dresser and set it on the floor next to his mattress. Sarah s
lid under his covers and lay on her back. Carter slipped under the covers next to her. They kissed. He moved his hand between her legs. She moaned and lifted her hips as he moved his middle finger against her clitoris.

  “Have you ever …”

  She shook her head.

  “We don’t have to.”

  She searched his face, her mouth open, her breath elevated. “I want to.”

  He reached over, grabbed the condom from the floor and rolled onto her, his legs between hers. She spread her legs wider to accommodate. He rose to his knees. She reached for his penis, her soft hands making him harder. He rolled the condom down his erection and lowered himself onto her, pushing the head of his penis inside of her. She gasped, her fingers gripping his upper back. He moved slowly, gradually increasing the depth. She directed him by alternately moaning when he was on the right track, and wincing when he went too far. Her wetness had created a round spot on his sheets the size of a softball.

  She moved her hips in rhythm with his, rubbing her clitoris against his pubic bone. His lips were locked on hers, their tongues weaved together. She moved in stronger motions, her hands on his hips, regulating his advances. He moved his lips to her neck. She moaned and exhaled, her eyes shut tight, her mouth open, her vagina convulsing. The moisture increased, allowing Carter deeper inside. He groaned as his penis spasmed, semen shooting into the reservoir tip of the condom. He pulled out and lay on his back, his ribcage moving up and down with each breath. She rolled onto him, her chin on his chest. She had a thin veneer of sweat between her breasts. He turned his head toward her with a brief smile.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said as he squeezed out from under her.

  “No,” she said, pouting.

  He wrapped up and disposed of the condom in the bathroom trash can and returned to Sarah’s side. He lay on his back. She pecked him on his mouth, his cheek, and his neck, before settling her head on his shoulder, her leg and arm draped over him.

  Carter’s eyes were shut but he was wide awake. The warmth of her body radiated through him. He listened to the slow rhythm of her breaths, felt her warm exhalations breeze against his neck. He felt the softness of her thighs across his legs and the warmth of her vagina against him. Sarah’s breast spilled onto his chest, forgiving and comforting. They stayed like that, Sarah sleeping, Carter trying to, until the low morning sun cut through the shades.

  He blinked, drowsy, semi-conscious. Douchebag is gonna be on the computer soon. I gotta get her out of here. He started to pull the covers off, the cold air nipping that idea in the bud. Just a few more minutes. He replaced the cover and slipped back into the warm comfort of her embrace.

  Loud knocking jerked Sarah’s head from his shoulder. Carter rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. There was knocking again, this time louder.

  “Open this god damn door,” Jim said.

  Carter’s eyes opened wide. Shit. He put his finger to his lips. Sarah covered her mouth. Carter sprang to his feet and grabbed the towel from the floor, wrapping it around him. Sarah moved to the corner of the bed, behind the futon couch, throwing the covers over her head. Jim banged on the door again, almost breaking the hinges.

  “I’m coming,” Carter said before opening the door, holding his towel around him.

  Jim stood, his bald head shiny, his arms crossed. “Why is your door locked?”

  Carter’s hair was disheveled, his eyes black. “For privacy. Unless you wanna watch me change.”

  “Watch it, smart ass.” Jim narrowed his eyes at Carter’s face. “What the hell happened to you?”

  Carter’s mouth was a straight line. “I fell.”

  Jim chuckled. “Yeah, fell into someone’s fists. Serves you right. Maybe you ought a rethink that smart mouth of yours.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Are you workin’ today?”

  “From two to ten.”

  “You need to wash the car before you leave. Inside and out.”

  “The hose might be frozen.”

  His wide nostrils flared. “Then you better figure out a way to unfreeze it.”

  “Can I get dressed now?”

  Jim glanced at the heap of clothes on the floor by Carter’s dresser. He smirked. “Nice bunny pajamas. First you quit football, then you get your ass kicked, now you’re wearin’ wittle bunny PJ’s.” He laughed at his own joke, repeating “wittle bunny PJ’s,” in a high and mocking voice. “Alyssa’s got some old Barbies in the garage if you want ’em.”

  Jim chuckled and stomped to his seat at the computer. Carter shut the door, locking it at the same time, so Jim couldn’t hear the click. Sarah popped her head up above the futon couch. What an asshole, she mouthed. He put his knees on the couch and leaned over, kissing her on the mouth. She smiled through the kiss.

  They dressed and exited through the bedroom window. Carter drove the red Honda two blocks down to Sarah’s townhouse. He parked in front. Carter handed her the keys across the center console.

  “I should go,” he said, pecking her on the mouth.

  She brushed her red hair back with her hand. “Do you want to do something later?”

  He frowned. “I’m grounded and my dad knows what my hours are.”

  “I could sneak over to your house … late.”

  He smiled. “I’ll call you as soon as everyone’s asleep.”

  “Hang up after one ring,” she said. “My mother keeps the phone right next to her in case Lincoln calls.”

  “So, I’ll see you tonight then?”

  “There’s something I need to talk to you about,” Sarah said. “It’s really important.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

  “This feud you have going on with Zach and Justin and the rest of the football team – it has to stop.”

  His mouth turned down. “It’s not me. I’m just defending myself.”

  She put her hand on top of his. “You’re misunderstanding me. I know it’s not your fault, but it keeps escalating. They jumped you with six guys and tried to shove your head in a portable toilet. Setting aside the feces, those chemicals could really damage your eyes, and who knows what would happen to your insides if you swallowed any of it. And now that you smashed shit in their faces, I can’t imagine they’re going to let it go.”

  “It’s fine, Sarah. I can handle it.”

  She squeezed his hand. “No you can’t, not by yourself.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, looking out the window.

  “Look at me,” she said.

  He turned his head.

  Her blue eyes searched his face, unblinking. “I’m going to talk to Mrs. Wheeler.”

  He scowled. “Sarah, don’t. It’ll just make it worse.”

  She yanked her hand away, her face red. “Worse than getting beat up and having your head shoved in chemical-laden sewage?”

  He pursed his lips.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “You can be mad, but I’m telling her whether you like it or not.”

  He exhaled. “I’m not mad. I just don’t want my girlfriend handling my problems for me.”

  She smiled and dropped her arms. “So you think I’m your girlfriend, huh?”

  His face was hot. “I hope so.”

  “Me too.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, her lips lingering. “Just let me help you, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  – 17 –

  Power Corrupts

  Sarah jingled her keys with a wide smile as she approached Carter.

  He grinned. “I guess you passed.”

  “I’m legal now,” she said, opening her pink satchel and dropping the keys inside. She fished out her wallet, opened it, and showed Carter her driver’s license.

  “You look pretty,” Carter said, hoisting a Virginia pine onto his shoulder.

  She frowned. “I wasn’t ready. I have such a dumb look on my face.”

  Sarah shadowed Carter as he moved trees from the back of the lot to the front in an effort
to consolidate the dwindling inventory of Douglas firs and Virginia pines. Wooden posts were set up along each row, connected by two-by-fours. The trees stood upright, resting against them. White lights were strung from the top of each post, illuminating the gravel lot.

  He wore a knit cap and leather gloves. Sarah was bundled in her pea coat, scarf, and wool hat.

  “You don’t have to work tomorrow do you?” Sarah asked.

  “Just a half-day,” Carter replied, “then I’m off Christmas Day. Don’t worry, I’ll be off in time for dinner.”

  “I got the turkey today,” she said. “I was thinking of making stuffing and getting some real cranberries and butternut squash and salad. Do you think it’s too much like Thanksgiving?”

  “It sounds really good.”

  She stood shivering as Carter spaced the trees evenly. “I don’t know how you can stand it out here. I’m freezing.”

  “I just keep moving. There’s warm cider at the register. It’s free.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened at the mention and she bolted toward the one-story structure. She returned with her hands wrapped around a steaming paper cup. She took a sip.

  “How is it?”

  She smiled. “It’s good. It’s nice that they have warm cider for everyone.”

  “It’s only for the customers.”

  She sauntered over, handing him the cup. “Here, try some. Nobody’s here anyway.”

  “I don’t think too many people wait until the twenty-third to buy a Christmas tree.” He sipped the cider, nodding his head. “That is good.” He handed it back.

  “What happens after Christmas? Do you still have a job?”

  “Sort of. The nursery’s closed until March, but when it snows I’ll be working on a sidewalk-shoveling crew. They pay double-time for snow. When they open back up in March, I can spread mulch and work here at the nursery. The owner said I can have as many weekend and after-school hours as I want.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yeah, at five-fifty an hour, I need a lot of hours.” Carter set up a Douglas fir. “I did do pretty well with tips from people during the rush. Today’s a bust, but last week I was making over a hundred dollars a day.”

  A Mercedes SUV rumbled into the lot, gravel crunching under the tires. A massive man with a blockhead and a dark suit stepped out of the driver’s side. The passenger door opened and Zach exited. His fresh crew cut was tilted toward the gravel, his wide shoulders slumped. Sarah and Carter gaped.