by Reece Evhans
We had to write a minimum of three pages on the role of obsession and ambition in Heart of Darkness. I finished before Jack and then just quietly watched him while he worked, tapping away at his laptop. I was curled up in a corner of the couch with Wicky purring in my lap while he sat on the floor, leaning against the couch with his long denim-clad legs outstretched. He looked so adorable as he concentrated, black hair falling over his brow, eyes pulled together in a scowl. He highlighted a passage, read it back over, muttered, "shit" under his breath and deleted the entire paragraph. I set Wicky aside and crawled up behind him, leaned over his shoulder, and said, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I just hate writing conclusions. They always suck. I don't know how to end this effing essay."
"Undelete it. Let me read it," I commanded. As he did as I asked, I began to knead his shoulders with my hands. "God, Jack, you are so tight! You need to relax."
"You touching me is not exactly relaxing, Ally. Kind of has the exact opposite effect, in fact." He groaned in appreciation and laid his head back.
I gave him a quick kiss and said, "None of that right now. Work now, play later."
He kissed me back quickly and complained, "Such a task master! Here" He handed me the laptop with the restored paragraph to read. "It just seems too repetitive."
I read it, typed in a phrase after the restatement of the thesis, and handed it back to him. "See what you think of that."
He took the laptop and without even looking at the addition to the paragraph, pressed ‘save’, snapped it closed, set it aside, and pulled me down onto his lap. "It's later," he said and began kissing me.
We had not had much time to be alone since we started dating, so we were both reveling in the luxury of being able to kiss each other at length. I loved the taste of him, the feel of him, the smell... I just couldn't get close enough. If I could crawl inside his skin I would. I rearranged myself so that I was straddling his lap, facing him. He moved his warm hands all over my back, soothing and massaging. Then I felt him slip his hands under the edge of my shirt, just caressing the flesh of my back. It felt so incredible. "Oh, God, Jack," I moaned into his mouth. I began kissing his neck, working my way down to his chest, and began unbuttoning his shirt. I slipped my hands inside and began to smooth them over the hot skin of his chest. I was just discovering the crisp feel of his chest hair when he stopped me.
"Ally, sweetheart," his hands came up and covered mine, stilling them. "Ally, we have to stop."
I didn't even hear him. I was so intent on discovering...him...this...everything.
"Ally, stop!" he said more forcefully and pushed me gently away from him.
I blinked and looked at him in horror. "Oh my God! I'm sorry! I didn't...I don't..." I suddenly couldn't get off his lap fast enough. I was so embarrassed, I'm sure my face was bright cherry red. I stood up, preparing to run and lock myself in the bathroom out of shame.
He must have sensed that I was about to run, because he caught me, and brought me back to the couch, setting me in one corner while he sat in the other and re-buttoned his shirt. "Oh, no you don't. You are not running away from this. If you can just about seduce me, then you can stay and talk about it," he said sternly. "We need to be able to talk about anything, sweetheart," he said more gently.
I drew my knees up, put my head down on them, and cried, "I'm so embarrassed! You must think I'm some kind of sex-starved maniac! I've never done anything like that before. I don't know what got into me."
"Jesus, Ally," he said, reaching out and pulling my bare feet onto his lap. He began to rub them soothingly. "I don't think you're a sex-starved maniac. I know you've never done anything like that before. That's why we needed to stop. You were quickly pushing me to the point of no return."
Tears started rolling down my face. "I'm so sorry," I whispered.
He pulled me to him, putting his arm around me, wiping my tears away. "No, I'm the one who's sorry. I let that get way out of hand." He laughed mirthlessly. "I didn't realize you'd be so...responsive."
"I just liked it so much," I said in a small voice.
He laid his head back on the top of the couch. "Yeah, me too." He sat up and turned to face me, seriousness gleaming from his eyes. "Look, Ally. We need to take this slow. You are a seriously sexy girl, and I would love nothing more than to make love to you right now, believe me, but it's not right. That should be a decision we make together, not in the heat of the moment. I have no intention of taking your virginity on the floor of your grandmother's living room when she or your mother could walk in at any moment. Ok?"
I nodded. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you or make you feel awkward."
He laughed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Believe me, what I'm feeling right now is not embarrassment."
"Jack," I continued, whispering, "You've done this before, haven't you? You're not a virgin, are you?" Some sick and twisted part of me needed to know.
He sighed and shook his head, sadness in his eyes. "No, I'm not. I'm sorry."
I couldn't help the little sob that escaped. I don't know why I was crying, why I should be surprised. I mean, how many 18-year-old guys have never had sex? I guess I had just hoped to be his first everything, like he was for me.
He pulled me back into his arms. "Shh. It's ok, Ally."
"I know," I sniffed. "It doesn't matter."
"Of course it matters," he said. "I was such a mess a few years ago, into drugs, stealing, a gang, and, yeah, sex. I did a lot of things I'm ashamed of. I treated the girls I knew with no respect.”
“It’s ok, Jack. You don’t have to tell me any more.” I really, really didn’t want to hear about the girls he had been with before.
“No, I think you need to hear it. I think you need to know the truth about who I was and what I did. Maybe you’ll finally realize you shouldn’t be with me. Ally, I was in a gang. We spent our days stealing, breaking into houses, and selling drugs. Our weekends were for partying: it was all about getting drunk, getting high, and getting laid. I can’t even tell you how many girls I’ve been with, because I don’t remember.”
Ok, I did not enjoy hearing that. But as I stared into his eyes I could see that the Jack I knew and had fallen in love with was not the person he had just described. Yes, that person was a part of his past and would probably cause problems from time to time. I had a decision to make: I could either cut and run because I couldn’t handle the things he had done before, or I could accept him as he was today and try to show him how much I loved him. I chose the latter and leaned in to kiss him.
He kissed me back so, so sweetly. “Ally, you are beautiful and pure and innocent. I absolutely do not deserve you. And I am not going to mess up what we have by trying to rush you into a physical relationship." He smiled at me, kissing me on the nose. "And I am not going to let you rush into something neither of us is ready for. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” I sighed and settled further against his side.
He kissed the top of my head. “Someday, I hope to God I am lucky enough to be the first man to ever make love to you, but now is not that time. I have to be able to look your mother and your grandmother in the eye. I have to be able to look myself in the eye." I smiled up at him. He continued, "Ally, what we have is special. Really special. You're special. You deserve the best." He finished this speech with a soul-searing kiss. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me," he said.
“Jack, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, too. I’ll be honest: I don’t love hearing about the things that you did in your past, but they are in your past. It’s part of the man you are today, and I am extremely fond of that man. I’m not running, Jack.” I kissed him. This time it was my tongue seeking entrance to his mouth, although I kept my hands away from his buttons.
He groaned and pulled away. "Now, I am going to go home and take another in the long line of cold showers I have been taking since we started dating."
I don't know if it's a sign of some new sort of mat
urity, but I had absolutely no desire to share what had just happened with anyone, not even Tara, with whom I have previously shared every type of secret. I just wanted to keep what had happened between Jack and me to myself.
****
Spending the first day of our break at the mall with Tara made it difficult to keep the juicier details of my newly activated love life a secret. She was persistent in her attempts to get me to spill.
"I just want you to know that you can come to me for advice, Ally. You know, if you any questions," she was trying to sound nonchalant, and failing, as we browsed the racks at Macy's.
"So, kind of like my own personal Dr. Ruth, huh?" I asked.
"Yes, exactly. Just without the accent."
"And you think that you're the expert in all things love-related? You are not exactly the poster child for long-term relationships, Tara. What was your longest, like a month?"
"It's not the length that matters, sweetie. It's how deep you get."
"We are still talking about relationships, aren't we?"
She just smirked. "Seriously, though, Ally. Do you have any questions, need any advice? Like, how far to let him go or how to tell him nicely to stop?"
"Tara, I am absolutely not going to tell you how far Jack and I go or don't go when we make out. It's private and special." I held up a blouse against myself for her inspection.
She scrunched her face up and shook her head. "So, there are make out sessions, at least? You don't have to give me all the juicy details, although I wish you would. Just tell me that it's not a completely platonic relationship."
I laughed. "You're pathetic, you know that? Yes, there are make out sessions. Happy? It's definitely not platonic."
"So, Jack's got some moves, huh? Is he a good kisser?"
"He's an amazing kisser. And that's all you're going to get out of me. I'm not going to kiss and tell. Now help me pick out an outfit for Thanksgiving with his family. I may not want your advice as it pertains to my love life, but I do need your fashion sense. I think I was born without one."
"I think so, too. That color is disgusting," she referred to the dress I had taken off the rack. "Here, you should try this one on," as she handed me a dress I had overlooked. "You two are being careful, right? You're taking precautions?"
"Wow. I already got that speech from Grams, thanks. She actually tried to check in his wallet for condoms. And then later, being the true feminist that she is, she bought me some to carry." I turned to look her straight in the eye. "I am not having sex with Jack, nor do I plan to anytime in the near future. I still have my V-card intact. I keep it right next to the condoms in my purse."
She laughed. "Well, I still have mine, too. It's just got a little more wear and tear than yours. So, he's not pushing you or anything?"
I laughed. "No, not at all. In fact, he's the one who refuses to let it get too hot and heavy. Ok, now that you've tricked me into telling you way more than I wanted to, let's go try this stuff on." I marched off toward the dressing rooms huffily. Tara followed behind gleefully.
****
Later that afternoon Tara and I were in my bedroom supposedly accessorizing the new outfits we had bought. She was actually lazing on my bed, staring at my bookshelf, when she suddenly leaped up and pounced on something lying on the floor.
"This is it!" she grabbed up my yearbook from sophomore year and began flipping through it.
"What? That's just my yearbook."
"Yes, and it lists everyone's first names, even the teacher's first names! And their pictures! We can look through it to see how many Nick's there are and if any of them could be the guy you’ve seen in the visions." We sat side by side and looked through, starting with the teachers.
"Here's one," Tara pointed to a picture. "Nicholas Chiszowski. Isn't that your physics teacher?"
"Yeah, but no way! It couldn't be him!" I argued.
"Are you sure? He's the only Nicholas I see in the teacher's section, unless there are any new ones this year."
"God, Tara. He's so nice! I really don't want it to be him."
"Well, sometimes it's the guys that seem nice on the outside. He may be hiding a rotten soul."
"Rotten soul? You should be a writer, you know that? I'm in class with him everyday and so is Veronica. Don't you think I would have picked up on some bad vibes or tension or something? Could she really sit there day after day and just be so normal?"
"I don't know, but we should at least keep him on our list. Let's look through the student section. This could take a while," she sighed as she flipped back to the beginning of the freshman section.
We found 5 guys named Nicholas, but only one of them seemed like even a remote possibility.
"Nicholas Grayson, junior. Which means he's a senior this year. He looks like a fairly big guy, huh? Do you know him?" she asked.
"Yeah, I kind of do. He's on the basketball team. I've never talked to him, though."
"Well, it looks like we have two suspects: Mr. Chiszowski and this Nicholas Grayson. At least we have a place to start. I think you should start observing how they act. You could keep all your notes in a little notebook or something." She was really getting into this.
"Tara, I know you are just dying to play spy, but this is serious. And we actually have three suspects: I'm wondering about Veronica's stepdad."
"Eww. That's disgusting. And hey, I know this is serious," she sounded slightly offended. "Fine. No notebook then. But you have to keep track somehow."
"How about I just remember? There are only two of them at school."
"Spoilsport," she muttered.
****
I spent Thanksgiving morning with mom and Grams at the senior citizen's center, helping cook and serve a nice turkey dinner to old people who didn't have any family nearby. Several years ago we had decided that it was silly to fix a big fancy dinner for just three people, so we had made it our tradition to go to the center. Later that afternoon, I went with Jack to another one of his many cousins' house for their Thanksgiving feast. It was wonderful, but a bit overwhelming; the huge spread of food, including turkey and all the fixings plus tamales, enchiladas, and several varieties of empanadas. I was touched to see plenty of vegetarian choices. That, more than anything else, told me that I was accepted as Jack's girlfriend. Mat was there and flirted just as outrageously as he had when I first met him.
"Give it a rest, Mat," Jack warned when Mat cornered me by the dessert table. Jack came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
"I just want the lady to know she has options, cousin. When you realize that Jack is actually a boring stick-in-the-mud, you call me, Ally," he said.
"I will keep that in mind, Mat. Thanks. Here, Jack. I got this pie for you, but I just want a bite." I fed him a bite of pumpkin pie and whipped cream and then took a bite from the same fork.
"Oh, jeez. You're sharing silverware already? I'm gonna barf. You've really sunk your hooks into her, huh Jack?" Mat walked away, shaking his head in mock disgust.
"Ally," Trina called from the kitchen. "Are you coming with us tomorrow to cut a Christmas tree?"
"Um, yeah. I guess," I looked up at Jack, somewhat confused.
"Jack, you were supposed to ask her the other night," Trina scolded.
"Oh, shit, Trina. I forgot. Sorry," Jack apologized.
"Watch your mouth, young man," Trina scolded. "How are you going to like it when Megan starts copying your atrocious language? She practically worships you, you know."
Jack looked suitably contrite. "Sorry, Trina. I forgot to mention it to Ally the other night. I guess I was so wrapped up in writing that paper that it slipped my mind."
I nearly choked on my pie, remembering that what he had really been wrapped up in was my arms.
"So, querida, do you want to go up to the mountains with my family to get a tree? We go every year the day after Thanksgiving, family tradition. There might even be some snow this year. Maybe I'll get to push you into a snow bank." He winked at me playfully.
I pointedly turned away from him and said to his aunt, "Thank you, Trina. I would love to." I turned back to Jack and took the last bite of pie for myself as I gave him a dirty look.
"Feisty!" he said, laughing.
****
Jack picked me up early the next morning, driving a slightly battered pickup truck pulling a flatbed trailer.
"What's this?" I asked as I got in, petting Sodapop, who was sitting in the middle of the bench seat. I got a generous doggy tongue bath in return.
"This is one of Manny's trucks. We need 4-wheel drive to get where we're going."
"Where's Megan? I thought she was coming."
"She's with Trina and Manny. There's no place for her car seat in here. Ok, dog, my turn to kiss her," he said as he pulled me to him, pushing the dog out of the way, and began kissing me. After all too short a time, he set me back on my side of the cab. At my sulky look, he said, "Don't even go there, you little temptress." He tapped me on the nose and started the truck.
We drove about 30 minutes north of Albuquerque to a Pizza Hut parking lot in Bernalillo where we met up with the rest of his family. I counted four other vehicles full of various relatives and friends. Once everyone had arrived we began the hour-long trip northwest from Bernalillo to the Jemez Mountains, passing from dry, dusty desert to dense, high altitude forest. We stopped at the Walatowa ranger's station located on the Jemez Pueblo to buy tree permits and were directed to a specific cutting area. Between the numerous members of his family, we were planning to cut at least five trees, and Grams had asked me to find a small one for our house. When we arrived in the tree cutting area, Trina and a couple of the other older women set up a base camp with a fire pit and several camp stoves on which they began heating various kettles and pots. Jack shouldered a hacksaw with one hand and took Megan's hand with the other motioning for me to follow. Sodapop loped along behind, veering off the path often to chase after unsuspecting forest creatures. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely judging by his goofy doggy grin as he came running back to us. We were all bundled up, including mittens and hats, for the snow. There is not much call for heavy snow gear in Albuquerque, so I had had to search through boxes in the garage for a hat and gloves. There had been an early storm over the Thanksgiving holiday so there were actually a few inches of snow on the ground in the mountains.