“Nah, Mr. T will cut me some slack. This weekend’s the big championship game. He knows I’ll be in no shape to take the test on Monday.”
Meg nodded in agreement, to what she wasn’t sure.
“Anyway, there’s gonna be a kick-ass party at Turner’s field after the game. You should stop by.” He winked and patted her on the head as he strolled off to join his group of friends.
She stood there speechless. James Spiller, the most popular guy in school, asked her out. Sort of. She wasn’t that naïve; she knew he was just being friendly, but she got invited to her first school party.
As expected, Central High won the state championships and the party at Turner’s field turned out to be huge. Meg’s grandparents would never allow her to go to a party so she told them she was meeting a study group at the library. It stayed open until ten on Fridays, and Meg spent many weekends there burning the midnight oil. Turner’s field was about a half-mile past the library.
At seven o’clock, Meg’s grandmother pulled up to the Manchester Library.
“I don’t understand why you need to come here to study, pumpkin. Your friends can come to the house.” Her grandmother said.
Meg turned in her seat and smiled. “I need to do some research for my AP Literature class. I have a twenty-page paper due in a few weeks and want to finish up some loose ends with my research.”
Her grandparents couldn’t afford a computer, so Meg had to type all of her reports at the library, another reason she spent so much time there.
“Okay, pumpkin. Ten o’clock. Gramps will be here.”
“I’ll be waiting. Bye, Gram.” Meg leaned over and kissed her grandmother’s soft cheek and stepped out of the station wagon.
She stood at the bottom of the library steps and waved until the red lights of the battered station wagon were no longer visible; she turned and hurried the half-mile to the party. Turner’s field was five hundred acres owned by the Turners, who pretended to be oblivious of the high school parties that took place year after year on their property. Granted, they couldn’t hear or see anything from their farmhouse, but high school students were not known for cleaning up after themselves. Beer bottles, trash, and the ashes of a bonfire littered the small trail leading to the loud party. Over the years, logs were dragged through the woods to make seating areas around the fire, but the Turners turned their heads. As long as no one got hurt or into trouble, they’d look away.
November brought chilly nights to New Hampshire. Meg shivered in her down parka and shoved her gloved hands deeper into her pockets. The smell of burning wood and the distant glow from the fire encouraged Meg to speed up. Warmth was nearby. Maybe some new friends.
It was an impressive sight. The entire student body of Central must have been in the field. Most hung around the fire while some stayed in their cars. She heard giggling in some of the cars, figuring kids wanted to escape the cold air. The fire danced and cast an orange glow among her peers. She looked around and smiled, expecting someone to greet her and welcome her to the party, but no one noticed her.
Meg moved closer to the fire to defrost her frozen legs. She took her hands out of her pockets and held them to the fire as someone reached out and put a cup in her hand. Meg turned around and gazed into James’ smiling eyes.
“Hey, Whiz Kid, glad you could make it.”
Meg stared at him and watched the reflection of the fire dance in his crystal blue eyes. Embarrassed by her obvious staring, she dropped her chin to her chest and toyed with the red plastic cup. “What’s this?”
“Some magic punch. Help ya loosen up a bit.” He winked at her and pushed the cup up to her lips.
At first the punch made her cough, but the sweetness felt good on her chilled throat. James stood next to her but stared into the fire as he talked about how he led his team to victory.
“Oh, congratulations. I heard it was a great game.”
“You didn’t go?” He asked surprised.
“No,” she said as she finished off the punch. “I’ve never been to a game.”
“Wow, I never met anyone who’s never been to a football game.” He took her empty cup. “Let me get you a refill.” He took the cup and walked off.
Meg blinked and lightly shook her head. She started feeling a bit dizzy, and her eyes blurred; she couldn’t see straight. She took off her glasses and wiped them with the bottom of her coat.
“Here ya go,” James said when he returned, offering her the cup.
She put her glasses back on but her surroundings remained unfocused.
“Thanks, I uh, the fire is drying out my eyes. I’m going to go sit over there.” She pointed to a large boulder on the edge of the woods.
“Want some company?”
“Sure,” she said surprisedly.
Normally Meg wasn’t shy, but she didn’t think James wanted to hear about her author study or chemistry lab she had been working on. She always had plenty to talk about—science, history, math, English—but she didn’t think the football star would be interested. He enjoyed talking about himself too much.
“Do you know what college you want to attend?” she asked as she drank some more of the magic punch.
“UConn, B.U., and B.C. are all fighting over me right now. We’ll see how it turns out. They’ve been scouting me for a few years. I’m holding out for Boston College though. We’ll see.” He turned to her and smiled the crooked grin he usually directed at Brittany Lovely or one of the other cheerleaders.
But the smile was for her. She saw people laughing and drinking from plastic cups. No one paid any attention to them. Something was off. James Spiller had always been the center of attention. It was normal for her to be sitting on the outskirts of the action, but not him. He put his hand on her shoulder, then the back of her neck, and then pulled her close.
Her body stiffened, her head floaty and vision blurry, and then his lips touched hers. He kissed her. Her first kiss. It wasn’t what she expected, but after a few seconds, she realized she liked it.
“Let’s go somewhere a little more private,” he said.
Her body took over where her mind left off. The next time Meg opened her eyes, she was sitting in the back of James’ Honda, and he was unbuttoning her coat.
“Uh, what are you doing?”
“Shhh, it’s all right.” His hands slipped under her sweater and turtleneck and onto her chest or lack thereof.
“I, uh, don’t think this is a good idea.” He cut her off with another kiss and with one swift move he was on top of her and his hands found their way down her pants.
“Please, stop, I don’t want to do this.” Meg cried. She put her hands on his chest and tried to push him off of her, but he outweighed her by fifty pounds and the magic punch turned her arms to rubber.
“Shh, you’ll like it. No one has ever complained before. Just relax.” He pinned both of her arms behind her with one of his hands while his other hand held her right leg down. Meg’s left leg lost all feeling, trapped between James’ body and the back seat of the car.
She continued to squirm and fight him, but he overpowered her and she had nowhere to go. The car tilted, her head pounded, her eyes unable to see clearly, and her mouth unable to form any more words, and then all went black.
When she woke up, her body shivered from the cold. Half-naked and alone, in the backseat of a strange car, she sat up and the world began to spin again. Dropping her head between her legs, she breathed deep. Opening her eyes, she trembled at what she saw. Her pants around her ankles, blood and some other fluid on her thighs. Frightened, she looked around but saw no one. The fire still blazed orange and yellow flames in the distance and the sounds of laughter and Pearl Jam filled the air. Meg pulled up her pants, zipped her coat, and scooted out of the car. She ran without ever looking back.
The library seemed miles away. She had no idea what time it was or if her grandmother was waiting for her. As she neared the familiar lawn of the library, she looked up to the clock adorning the ta
ll building. Nine forty-five. Gramps would be driving around the bend in fifteen minutes. She had until then to try to piece together the night. She remembered checking the clock in the car when James turned it on.
It had been eight o’clock. It took less than ten minutes to make it to the library and less than that for the most popular boy in school to ruin her life. What had happened to the other ninety minutes? Did she fall asleep? She was still pretty light-headed, but her vision had started to clear. The magic punch. She wasn’t exactly sure what was in it, but she knew it was the cause for her blackout.
Meg Fulton, fifteen, valedictorian of her class, nerd, friendless, genuine sweet girl, had her virginity and her future ripped away. Four weeks later, she discovered she was pregnant.
* * * *
The tears poured out and her body shook from the force of her emotions. Connor sat silent while she shared the most devastating and private parts of her life. Only one other person knew about that night. Tracy, her closest friend, and until now, the only one who knew about the rape. When her eyes dried and her body stopped trembling, she took comfort in Connor’s supporting arms.
“What did your grandparents do?”
“I didn’t tell them. It would have devastated them. I wore bulky clothes and waited until about a month before my due date to tell them I was pregnant and the father was a boy from another school who moved away. They never questioned me, but supported me in every way they could.”
“It all makes sense now. That night in the car. I kissed you when you were asleep. You woke up and thought I was going to rape you. Damn.” Connor shook his head, obviously disgusted with himself.
“Did the football punk ever find out you were pregnant?”
“No. I never told him. No one knew I was pregnant. I always wore baggy clothes and no one really paid much attention to me anyway. By the time I gave birth in August, most kids left already for college. I stayed with Gram and Gramps and they watched Emma while I attended Brandeis. I wanted to be a scientist. Maybe work in a research lab, but as soon as I had Emma I knew I wanted to spend every possible minute with her. Being a teacher made the most sense. By the time she was ready for school I had a teaching job. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more, so I took a few classes and got another degree in administration.”
“Wow. You’re an amazing woman, Meg Fulton.”
“Hardly. This doesn’t freak you out at all?”
“Freak me out? Hell yeah I’m freaked. I can’t believe all you’ve been through. You’re unfreakinbelievable.”
“I’ve uh…” Meg shyly averted her gaze and stood by the fire. “I never had much time for dating. I’m not really…experienced.”
“Hell.” Connor put his hands in his pockets and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m an ass for pushing you. I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t be. You didn’t know. I really want to…want to…be with you, but I’m not sure if I’m ready. I’m sorry.”
“Babe.” He shook his head and cupped her face in his palms. “Don’t apologize. Like I said, I won’t push you.”
“Thank you.”
The kiss had more emotion than any of the other kisses. It spoke of promises, trust, and possibly love.
Chapter 12
The next few weeks were bliss. While Connor never would have imagined having a secret affair could be such a turn on, he definitely never imagined he could be happy having a non-existent sex life. He kicked a few field goals, but never scored the touchdown. He respected Meg too much to aim for the ultimate score. He wouldn’t mind changing the status, but for the first time he was in an honest relationship. While he and Amy attended high school and college, their relationship was centered around sex and partying with friends. They didn’t talk about real issues. Amy was and will always be superficial. His alimony checks remind him of that every month.
He didn’t drag out the divorce and didn’t fight her when she demanded half of his earnings. Whatever. She had stuck her claws into one of his teammates’ back and retirement fund before he even kicked her out of the house. He hadn’t been oblivious to Amy’s extracurricular activities. It was easier to ignore her affairs than to deal with divorce. But he didn’t expect her to drop him like a Monday morning quarterback two weeks after he blew out his knee. She had wanted fame and status, and he could no longer provide either.
The years after his divorce he enjoyed lots of sex with lots of women and never had to work too hard in gaining their interest. He attracted the Amy type. Gorgeous, simple-minded, materialistic. He didn’t mind. It kept his affairs short and simple. No strings. Marriage never crossed his mind once he signed his divorce papers, but Meg made him contemplate the whole institution of relationship idea.
“Hell,” he muttered. Since when did he start contemplating marriage? Since Meg. Connor rubbed his hands over his face and started down at the pile of research papers waiting to be corrected. It was becoming harder and harder to stay focused at work. He would go the long way around the building to get to his classroom so he could stroll by the office and hopefully catch a glimpse of her. Instead of checking his mailbox once a day, he stopped by the office three or four times making idle chatter with Barbara or Jim. And Meg. The highlight of his day was standing in her doorway, catching her off guard while she was deep in thought staring at her laptop or reading a report.
She played her part well too. Making her rounds and popping into classrooms to observe teachers had been part of her job, and she did it well. A few teachers teased him about her frequent visits, assuming their feud was still existent, trying to find a flaw in his teaching. They let others believe there was tension between them. Little did everyone know it was sexual tension.
“Hey, coach, what’s up?” Kent sat on the edge of Connor’s desk and sipped his coffee.
“Just struggling to get through these papers,” Connor replied reclining in his chair.
“You looked out of it. Come to think of it, you haven’t been yourself lately. We’re due for a poker game. What do ya have going on this weekend?”
He had a date with Meg. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one, Kent.”
“Hot date? Haven’t seen you out much lately,” he laughed. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’ve got yourself a girl you’re keeping secret! This is great. Who is she?”
“No one.”
“Come on, coach. Spill. You’ve never kept your girls a secret before. They’re usually hanging off your arms.”
He was a good guy. They’d been friends ever since Connor started teaching at Newhall. Kent loved his wife and kids but lived vicariously through Connor’s social life, but he also kept Connor level headed, sort of.
“This one’s different, Kenny. I don’t want you guys scaring her away. Let’s just leave it at that. Okay?”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Shit. I never thought I’d see the day! Someone’s got Connor McKay by the balls.” He observed the seriousness in Connor’s face and simmered down. “I’ll keep it quiet, Con. Don’t do anything stupid.”
No, he wouldn’t. Or at least not intentionally.
* * * *
Nearly four months had passed since Tracy visited Meg in New Hampshire. They’d never gone longer than three months without visiting with each other. It had been easier to schedule long weekend visits when she lived in Boston, but the extra two hours north in New Hampshire made a long weekend not as feasible, and being away from Connor was not an option. She was in love.
First, she’d share the news with Tracy and then figure out a way of telling Connor. She wanted to plan a romantic weekend away somewhere with no interruptions. He had friends and family everywhere in this small town. Every time she was at his house she feared someone would stop by and catch them…eating? Possibly kissing, but nothing more. True to his word, Connor remained an absolute gentleman. But his gentlemanly behavior was driving her nuts. Finally, she was ready for sex.
The sound of a car door closing quickly followed by the ring of a doorbell had
Meg rushing to the front door. She barely touched the doorknob before the door swung open and Tracy scooped her into a hug.
“Girlfriend, you look amazing! I can’t wait to meet this man of yours!”
“Not on your life! Knowing you, you’d try to steal him away. Let me have a little more time with him before he meets the infamous Tracy Spencer.”
“Prrrrr, so he swings both ways does he?” Tracy knew how to get attention from men and women. He looked straight and could act the part when he wanted to, but put him in the room with giggling girls or give him a few drinks and his other side spilled out. Most people imagined gay men as stout or skinny, flamboyant or wearing a sign that said, “I’m gay.” Tracy was a beautiful man. Lean, sculpted, always tan, and not a golden hair out of place. He looked like a playboy, and would probably pose for a naked magazine if asked, but he was the most honest, sincere person Meg had ever met.
“I’m going to need your help this weekend, Trace.”
“Oh, I think I’m going to like this. Does it involve the football player?”
“Yeah, it involves him. I need your help in planning the perfect weekend. I’m ready to sleep with him, but I don’t know how to tell.”
“Honey, he’ll know. Trust me, he’ll know.” His eyes twinkled and his perfectly straight, white teeth gleamed with pride.
She was definitely not cut out to be a sex goddess. Tracy helped her find a romantic hotel on the coast of Maine. With the room booked, now all she needed were the accessories. Shopping for lingerie at Victoria’s Secret was Tracy’s specialty, but Meg needed to do this alone. Tracy grudgingly stayed behind with Emma but plastered on a smile when she agreed to let him go through her closet and prospect appropriate clothing for a beautiful Redneck—as he called her now—physical therapist.
All of the negligees were adorable, sexy, and scandalous. How could she decide what to buy? Granted she had a drawer full of expensive silk and satin undergarments, but they were all picked out by another man. Tracy, but still. What she wore for Connor needed to be special. Meg had been strolling through the store, skimming her hand across the soft nightgowns forever. How would she figure out the right one? Her first instinct was to go for the high neck, lace, flannel nightgown at Sears, but that would defeat the purpose of their getaway.
False Start (The McKay-Tucker Men Series Book 1) Page 12