Our Demented Play Date

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Our Demented Play Date Page 11

by Kat Fletcher


  “Morning,” she yawns. “If your parents find the door locked don’t you think they’re going to figure out something’s up?”

  “Wondering what’s going on is definitely going to be better than walking in,” I whisper, trying not to laugh as I kiss her cheek.

  “Mmm… nice butt by the way.”

  I blush. How silly to blush when you’re naked in bed with someone. “Are you doing okay?” I ask.

  She gives me a naughty leer. “More than okay. You?”

  “Yeah,” I kiss her and draw her body into my own, “more than okay.”

  “We had sex,” she whispers.

  “Yup,” I grin. “Twice, if I remember.”

  “It would be hard to forget,” she says, breathily.

  “Feel any different?” I ask.

  “Maybe. I don’t know how to put it. How about you?”

  “I guess a little, not like I thought though. I feel more settled. Like I know who I am more. Does that make sense?”

  “Definitely,” she says, her cool-Rach voice suddenly returning. “That’s how I feel. It was kind of like I thought it would be, and kind of different.”

  “Yeah. That’s a good way of saying it. You’re heavier than I expected.”

  “Thanks a lot,” she smirks. “So flattering.”

  “No,” I give her a playful slap on her bare bottom. “That’s not what I mean. I mean like a human body. It’s heavy, when you’re lying on top of someone. It’s like I didn’t think about an actual body. Like some of the stuff was exactly like I imagined, but not that.”

  “Just like you imagined? You must have had a vivid imagination,” she giggles.

  “Yeah. Your virginity survived until you were seventeen too. All those sexy novels? Don’t tell me you didn’t have a deep and vibrant fantasy life.”

  She blushes a little and I’m still dazzled by her enough to take any blush as a kind of strange victory. “Yeah, maybe just a little vivid,” she admits.

  “It was a lot like I thought. Like the sex parts, but there’s all this other stuff I never thought of. You smell so good,” I say and nuzzle her neck, breathing her scent in. “And you’re so warm.” I press my body into hers.

  “You too.”

  We kiss again and as our mouths lock together and her tongue darts into my mouth, I think about the one thing I haven’t said. I felt it and I hope she did. It’s that feeling, from deep in my chest, of my heart pounding and feeling like it just wants to jump out of my body and into hers in a way I never thought would be possible.

  My hand is already on her bottom. I slip it around and we make love again with our hands, this time looking into each other’s eyes as we do. It’s gentle and less crazy than we were last night. It feels almost comfortable. Afterward, she’s lying back on the bed and I’m draped over her. I feel so relaxed. It’s such a cliché, but I’m also satisfied, and not just because of the sex part.

  “Can we do that all day?” I whisper kittenishly.

  “I’ll bet your parents would notice that,” she laughs.

  “Am I crazy for thinking the best part is how much we laugh together?”

  “No,” her voice is so raw with intense honesty. “No, not crazy at all.”

  “Rach,” I kiss her cheek. “I’m glad I waited until I met you and that it was you.”

  “Me too.”

  “You’re glad I waited for you?” I tease.

  “Dork. I’m glad it was you.”

  It’s stupid, but I love it when she calls me “dork.” I prop my head up on my shoulder. “Rachel Gill. I want to take you on a date.”

  She laughs. “This isn’t one?”

  “No, this is sleeping together. We kind of skipped the date. Unless you count going out to eat with our parents.”

  “Well, we’ll always have the clam shack,” she quips.

  “If only Well Dressed and Jock Boy could see us now,” I joke back.

  “God. Don’t even,” she groans. “If they saw this? You could hear them fapping across Cape Cod.”

  “Ewww. Gross.” I swat her impishly and we both laugh. “I’m serious. Let’s go out somewhere. Together. It’s going to be beautiful out today. Provincetown’s supposed to be really gay friendly. I can beg my parents for the car.”

  “Miss Sarah. I would love to go on a date with you,” she announces and then breaks the moment by tickling my breast, sending me into a giggle fit.

  Chapter 13

  I stop at the bottom of the stairs, clinging to the bannister, and trying to keep myself from bolting back up. Rach confessed she couldn’t look at my parents with a straight face after last night and slipped out early. I’ve showered and gotten dressed.

  My little checklist is starting to get small. 1. Come out to friends. Check. 2. Tell Rachel I like her. Check. 3. Lose my virginity with a girl. Check. One line left, no checkmark. 4. Come out to parents.

  I can see them through the sliding glass door sitting on the deck with a carafe of coffee and a box of Dunkin’ Donuts. It’s a beautiful golden sunrise and they seem so happy and now I’m going to ruin the moment and tell them that their daughter is gay. How am I going to do this?

  In a way, it’ll be a relief. I hate keeping anything from my mom and dad. Sierra is on a purely need-to-know basis with hers. If they ask, she’ll tell them, but she doesn’t give anything up without a struggle. My parents and I have always had this pretty open thing going on. I guess it’s partially because I’m kind of a good girl who’d never do anything they wouldn’t approve of. That sure got tossed out the window last night. Even if they’re okay with me being gay, I’m sure they would not be with the naked version of the demented play date.

  I take a last deep breath, fumble with the handle for a moment, then push the slider open and step out onto the deck. The air and the touch of the cement patio slabs against my feet are cool, but I can already tell from how warm the sun is that it’s going to be a hot day.

  “Hey Mom, Dad.”

  “Morning,” my mom says. Her voice sounds so relaxed and pleasant and it brings the guilt burbling back up. It’s not that I feel guilty for being gay or worried about their reaction. Okay. Worried a little. It’s just that it’s a pretty abrupt heavy thing to hit them with during morning coffee on what’s been a really great vacation.

  “Rach still asleep?” my dad asks.

  “She snuck out early. She’s going to change and we’re getting together later. Or at least I hope we are if everything goes right.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” my dad says. “I thought Rachel would be here, so I got up early and went out for Dunkin’. There’s one of the chocolate cake ones you like. Get a cup of coffee and join us?”

  “Sure,” I say and pour myself coffee, then take a sip to wet my dry mouth. The donuts would ordinarily call out to me, but I’m too nervous and can’t imagine putting anything into my stomach right now.

  It makes my head swim thinking of my dad waking up and puttering around getting donuts and coffee while Rachel and I were upstairs hooking up.

  I take a moment to compose myself, sitting down and running my finger around the edge of the coffee cup then I try to ask casually, “Can I borrow the car?” I feel like there’s a pause and they want more reasons, so I babble on, “I sort of promised Rach I could drive her to Provincetown and we could hang out for the day and maybe get dinner there.”

  “I don’t see why not. Just be careful. The traffic is crazy there. But we trust you.”

  “Really?!” I blurt out.

  My father laughs. “Don’t be so surprised. You’ve had your license over six months. We were going to stay close to home today anyway. Plus, I’d rather have you drive out alone than bring me on another one of your white knuckle rides.”

  He’s joking and I try to force a smile on my face. I could walk myself right back to my room and not say another thing and Rach and I would have a great time and they’d never know.

  “It’s kind of a date.” I drop the bomb.

&nb
sp; My parents exchange curious glances then turn their attention back to me, the seconds ticking away and the silence becoming more and more heavy. They are obviously expecting more of an explanation. Can’t they say something? Do they not get it? I thought I was being so clear and this was so hard. Do I have to spell it all out?

  I sip my coffee to wet my mouth, trying to make it appear I’m being very casual about all this. “Rachel and I have a date,” I say making every word clear and distinct. “A date date.” My dad is slowly nodding, with his serious expression. It’s not a mad look or an upset look though. My mom has a brave smile and is looking at me. It’s all too much and I feel a tear start to roll down my face.

  As soon as she sees it, my mom gets out of her chair and comes over to mine, kneeling in front of me and hugging me. “Sarah, it’s okay.”

  “I’m gay.” The words come out a little faster and more blurted than I might have hoped.

  “We understood what you meant by a date. Don’t worry,” my dad says, his voice tinged with amusement, yet still solid and kind. “Everything is fine with us, but are you okay?”

  “You don’t hate me? Because I’m gay?”

  “Of course we don’t,” my father states definitively. “You’re our daughter.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump this on you without some kind of warning, but Rach and I just sort of happened.” I pause for a moment and then nervously laugh. “Probably not what you had in mind when you set up the vacation.”

  “That’s a safe bet,” my dad quips, but I can tell he’s just trying to make light of everything. “But you never know what life is going to bring you. You go with it.”

  My mom looks me straight in the eye, her face all concern and caring. I scan it for anger or rejection and I’m so relieved that I don’t see any. “It’s not entirely unexpected,” my mom says in a careful measured voice. That was a bombshell. Not unexpected? How had they known?

  “You’re not spying on my internet or something are you?” I ask, only half-joking. I don’t think they’d do that, but my dad’s firm does intellectual property stuff for computer companies. He’s gotten good with computers. I don’t think they’d be too suspicious of The 100 and The Fosters, but I’m pretty sure the average teenage girl is not hitting up The L-Word or Imagine Me and You on her iPad.

  My father gives me a look as if the idea disgusted him. “No honey. If we were worried about what you were watching, we’d ask you. We started to wonder about where… your interests lie. Justin’s gay and you’re very close.”

  My mother picks up his thought, “You almost never date. To be honest, we were afraid you were going to get your heart broken by Sierra. So it’s kind of a relief that you found someone.”

  I laugh out loud, the whole concept of Sierra, the poster girl for heterosexuality, and me being together is beyond funny. “No, I don’t feel that way about Sierra. She’s my best friend. That would be too strange. Oh, she knows and she’s cool with it. She helped me work up the courage to ask Rachel out.”

  “You asked Rachel out?” my mom says with some surprise as she sits down again.

  “Yeah. No. Well kind of. I sort of just kissed her. The asking out came after.” I leave out what it was after.

  My dad’s clearly amused, but my mom still seems serious. “That’s not exactly what I would have thought.” There’s a tone in her voice that I can’t figure out. I’m not sure what I’ve blundered into, but I have this feeling something else is going on.

  “She dresses cool and stuff, but when you get to know her, she’s not how you’d think she’d be. If that made any sense?”

  She lets it drop and we sit and listen to the waves. I finish my coffee, but my stomach is still turning too much to try for a donut.

  Finally, my dad gets up, pours the last of the coffee into my mother’s cup and then walks to my chair and kisses me on the top of the head. “You’ll be okay kid.” He motions to my mom. “You coming in?”

  “In a few minutes maybe,” she says.

  My father goes into the house and my mom and I sit in the quiet morning air for a few moments. We look at each other a couple of times without speaking until I finally work up my courage. “It feels so good to not need to hide things, but you’re not mad or disappointed in me or something?” It’s still hard for me to believe coming out was that anticlimactic. You see these kids on YouTube being screamed at by their parents and thrown out. My parents aren’t religious or weird or anything like that, but I expected something. “You know I can still have kids right?”

  She laughs. “I’m not too concerned about grandkids yet, but thanks for letting me know. I guess I’m a little worried about what this means for you, but I’m not disappointed. You are your own person and I trust you to know what you want in life.” She pauses for a moment like she’s thinking and then her voice gets more serious. “Sarah, I’m not sure how to say this, but please be careful. Have fun, but don’t think this is more than it is.”

  “It’s not just an experiment. I really am gay. I’ve known for a long time; I was just afraid to tell anyone.”

  “Honey, I know. You’re not who I’m worried about. I don’t want you to get hurt. Rachel is the first… person you’ve gone out with and we were talking with her parents over dinner…”

  I interrupt her, sure of where she’s going with this. “No mom, she’s not taking advantage of me. She’s very out, but I’m the first one she’s ever gone out with.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant Sarah,” she says, her voice concerned, but a bit impatient. “Let me finish. Rachel’s family has had a difficult time in the last year. Her mom has been working so hard to make partner and she thinks that with all the jewelry and the wild clothes and everything else that Rachel might be saying she’s gay for attention.”

  I thought of staring into those deep eyes while we lay entwined with each other, our bodies touching so intimately, and laugh. “I don’t think that’s it. Rach is most definitely gay.”

  “I’m very serious Sarah. You can never be sure. People do things when they’re your age for attention or to scare their parents. They might act out in public, but…”

  I laughed, “That’s not it. Okay, her school is weird and I think she she likes it that her mom’s a little irritated by all the rainbow stuff she wears, but she’s really gay. And we’re really gay for each other or whatever you call it. Trust me, I got this nailed down.”

  “I’m only saying be careful.”

  “No Mom, really, after last night, I am absolutely positive on that one.”

  I can tell right off that my mom understands what I meant because she turns pale and actually gasps out loud. I think people heard her gasp across the cove.

  Fuck me and my big fat mouth. Had my brain wandered off onto the beach to take a dip in the ocean? Had common sense gone on a Disney Cruise? What had come out from between my lips? Was it the giddiness of the morning and coming out and everything?

  “Last night? Oh, Sarah. Honey. I did not need to know that.” She pauses and I wait, wondering how much trouble I’m in, and terrified she would rescind letting me borrow the car. “So quick? But you’re not on the pill…” She stops abruptly and puts a hand over her mouth at the absurdity of what she’d started to ask, then laughs.

  “Not on the pill?” I say, highly amused. “Mom? I have a lot of things to worry about right now, but Rachel getting me pregnant isn’t one of them.” I think for a second and then try to take it all back. “Plus we didn’t do…that, we just kissed and stuff.”

  “I’m sure,” her tone makes it obvious I still can’t lie for crap. She takes my hands, squeezes them hard, and we both break down in nervous laughter until there are tears running down our faces.

  “I’m sorry honey,” her voice was a nervous mixture of seriousness and amusement, “you have these things you’re supposed to talk to your children about when you find out they’re sexually active. I guess I need to learn a new set of questions. And there is still the issue
of STDs.”

  She composes herself for a moment and her voice turns more serious and thoughtful. “Don’t worry. You’re not in trouble. Sex happens. We know that. We never thought you were going to stay a virgin until you were thirty. That’s why we had the sex talk back when you were twelve. I suppose we could have done better, been more inclusive of what we talked about, but we didn’t see this coming that far back.”

  “Don’t worry, you did fine,” I say remembering the uncomfortable discussion. The mechanics and assurance that masturbating was healthy and natural was bad enough without adding in a special lesson on advanced same-sex variations.

  “Also, Sarah. It’s very good that you feel you can be honest with me, even if you didn’t quite mean to, but no more sleepovers. At least not until we figure out some things.”

  I nod, blushing like crazy. I knew they’d put an end to that when I came out, even if I didn’t let my mouth go running off into the wilderness. I don’t mind though. Being open about Rachel is kind of better than sharing a bed with her in secret. Mostly. “I hadn’t planned on being quite that honest, but okay Mom, no more sleepovers. If you talk to them, Rach’s parents have some rules that I guess make sense and seem fair.”

  We both stood up and hugged. I whispered, “Thanks Mom,” and pecked her on the cheek.

  “You coming in?” she asks.

  I shake my head, “No, I want to sit for a little while.”

  “Sure,” she says and heads a few steps toward the house, then turns around. “Do Rachel’s parents know you two are involved?”

  “She hasn’t told them yet,” I reply.

  “Okay. It’ll be between us until she talks to them. I’ll let your dad know not to say anything either.”

  Chapter 14

 

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