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[Jefferson_Thom…]

     I've woken up in Sebastian Wentworth's arms hundreds of times.  This time, of course, was completely different.  If nothing else, we were both naked.  I rolled over and kissed him.  Of course we made love again (why are guys always so ready first thing in the morning anyway?).

     Afterwards, we talked.  I told him how I felt about him, how part of me still had the same childhood crush on him, how I think I will always love him.  Of course he had known all along.

     "Sweetie, your parents are my best friends in the world!  Of course I couldn't give in to my feelings about you, especially when you were a kid!  I think we should have waited even longer!"

     That made me mad.  Here I was, desperately needing to get together with him, wasting the best years of my life, and he thought it was OK to hold out on me!  Of course at one level I understood, and didn't want him put in prison or anything, but still!  He should have, I don't know, told me all I had to do was wait until I turned 18 or something.  It just didn't seem fair.

     "Alex," he said softly, "it's not as if I'm the only guy who's ever going to love you."      

     I just gave him a flippant, sarcastic reply, but part of me realized that, in a way, he was right:  one of the things I was afraid of was that if I didn't latch on to someone right this minute, I would never be loved.

[Jefferson_Thom…]

     As he always did, Sebby made us a delicious breakfast.  I tried to help, as usual, but I never actually did much good.  Sebby makes the best scrambled eggs I've ever tasted, period.  Of course, this time went even slower than usual -- I kept grabbing him and kissing him and telling him I loved him.

     After what seemed like an hour of giggly horseplay, we finally finished breakfast, loaded the dishwasher and took a shower together.  Sebby's shower, of course, is much bigger than my parents', so it was easy to squeeze in together.  And there's more than one nozzle, so, almost no matter where you stand, water is spraying at you from several directions at once.  It is SO cool if you're in there with someone you love.

     I began to embarrass myself a little when I caught myself comparing Sebby's girlfriend-washing technique to Zane's (Sebby is gentler, but Zane looks better naked).  Just how many guys was I willing to sleep with at the same time, anyway?  Suddenly, adventuresome and uninhibited began to give way to, well, kinda promiscuous.  That helped me calm down a little, so we finished our shower without any more making out.

     I was so happy I practically skipped home.  I swear my feet hardly touched the ground.  Sebby loved me.  He LOVED me!  The minute I turned 18, I could move in with him.  I would wake up in his arms every morning.  I would go on the Pill or something.  I would figure out how to be more helpful when it came to breakfast-making.  Sebby would keep helping me with my homework, but I would try to be reasonable about how often I bothered him, so he could get his writing done.  I'd get the highest grades in my class.  I would do our laundry and grocery shopping!  I would . . . I would . . .  I was so happy I couldn't even name one more thing I would do.

     I was literally about to shout, "Sebby Wentworth, I LOVE YOU!" as I bounded up the stairs to our deck and flung open the kitchen door.

     My father was mopping up some lasagna I'd spilled when I was serving it to Zane, a million years ago.  I've never seen him so angry.

[Jefferson_Thom…]

     For a moment we just stared at each other.  I've never been caught so completely off-guard in my life. 

     Then he began to speak.  Every word sounded as though it were coming out from between clenched teeth.  "Your mother and I have always tried to give you enough freedom to make your own mistakes -- at least, within reason -- and learn from them.  We've sent you to good schools, made sure you had good computers and other resources.  All we've ever really asked of you is honesty and effort.  If there had been coursework you didn't understand, all you ever would have had to do was be honest and tell us:  we would have found you a tutor or something.  If you'd ever had a personal problem, all you ever would have had to do was tell us openly:  we'd have tried to help.  Even if you'd gotten pregnant, we'd have helped you care for your child, or paid to terminate the pregnancy, even though that violates our religious beliefs.  There is not one single thing you ever would have had to hide from us, and we've told you that over and over.  Do you have any idea how precious -- how priceless -- you are to us?  Why do you think you have no siblings?  It is because it was so difficult to get pregnant with you.  You are it, our only child; there can be no more."

     He paused only to take a quick breath, then went on, "I see now we were wrong.  We have indulged you, pampered you and given in to you.  From now on, things will be different.  You will begin to earn your keep around here.  You will --"

     "Daddy, please," I said, in a tone I hoped sounded reasonable.  "I'm sorry about --"

     "Don't you 'Daddy, please' me, young lady!"  My father raised his voice.  "Do you have any idea how worried I became when it got late and I received no phone call from you?  How worried I because when I called your cell phone and realized it was here?  What your mother would think if she knew you'd been out all night, and --"        

     I opened my mouth to shout that it was none of their business who I slept with, that I would be 18 by Thanksgiving, and that on that date I would move out and never be such a burden to them again, but something stopped me for a split second, just long enough to realize that my father was crying.

[Jefferson_Thom…]

      For a long moment, neither of us said anything.  We just stared at each other.  Then my father began to speak in the calmest, most reasonable tone of voice I think he's ever used with me.  "I don't really give a damn who you spent last night with, or how many there've been before him," he said.  "You know what I care about?  Was he good to you?  Does he care about you, or were you just another meaningless fling?  Is some little snot-nose going to break your heart, or make you happy?"

     My father started to rant again (and I couldn't help wondering how Sebby would feel about being called a "little snot-nose"), but I could tell he wasn't angry at me.  He was angry that I had forgotten my stupid cell phone, same as I was.  He was angry that I was growing up, enjoying some freedom and enjoying having sex.  He just wasn't yet ready for the idea of his little girl escaping into adulthood, and at some level I sort of understood that.

     When he'd talked himself out, we talked -- really talked -- to each other, instead of at each other, while we cleaned up the house together.  I told him nearly everything, that I drank small amounts ("I thought it was your mother!"), that I had a really good sex life ("Too much information!"), that I had honestly intended to clean up after myself ("I think I believe you.  After all, I did manage to get home one day early."), and that the guy I had spent last night with had loved me for a very long time, would never hurt me and had spent much more time last night telling me he loved me than doing all the awful things my father was imagining.  The only thing I didn't dare tell him was that my lover was his best friend.  I just couldn't bear the thought of hurting him that way.

     And when my Dad and I were through cleaning up the house, we finished the lasagna out on the deck over a couple of glasses of wine, and kept right on talking to each other.  It might be the best time I've ever spent with him.

[Jefferson_Thom…]

      It is now September 6th.  My senior year of high school starts tomorrow.

     Mrs. Clark was caught red-handed at another bonfire on the beach with a 15-year-old boy.  A police officer walked up to them and said, "Janet, get off that kid and get dressed."  She did.

     But then, instead of asking the boy a bunch of questions, the cop said, "Kid, go someplace else.  Go find someone your own age."  The guy ran off.

     The cop then cuffed Mrs. Clark's hands behind her back and led her to his police car, but not by grabbing her arm or shoving her.  It was more like he had his arm around her.  He said, almost gently, "Janet, you know you have to stop doing this.  Pete's never coming back.  You have to try to find someone your own age."

     Mrs. Clark started crying and babbling drunkenly something to the effect that there wasn't anyone her own age, and she didn't like the fact that Mr. Clark had left her for "some dirty little slut," and so on.

     "I'm going to take you home and let you sleep it off," the cop replied.  He put her in the front seat of his police car and drove off.  I'm almost sure I saw her put her head on his shoulder.

     Things have changed a bit with my friends.  Brenna and Jessica have new boyfriends and are pretty happy with them.  Willow doesn't know it, but she and Charlotte are sharing a guy.  Willow gets the love she needs without being pressured to give up her virginity, and Charlotte and the guy are getting their physical needs met.  It sounds strange, but Charlotte is staying faithful to Willow's boyfriend and vice-versa.  We've all sworn never to tell Willow.

     Things are different around home.  My parents and I are getting along better than we ever have.  I don't feel as strong a need to lie to them, something I was always a little uncomfortable doing anyway.  The only thing I just can't bear to reveal to them yet is Sebastian's identity.

     If you had told me six months ago that it was possible to love anyone as much as I love Sebastian, I'd have laughed in your face.  After our first night together, I invoked our hands-off-each-other-during-relationships rule with Zane and he's OK with it.  His new girlfriend is especially OK with it.  The only time I broke it was last night, because he just left to go back home so we won't see each other all winter.  I cry every September when I have to see him go back home, and this morning was no exception.  

     Sebby and I see each other almost every day.  I spend the night with him as often as I can without making my parents suspicious.  He is the kindest, sweetest man I've ever met.  I want to marry him, although my breakfast-making skills are still nil.  He's gradually coming around to the idea of my moving in with him as soon as I turn eighteen.  Make no mistake about it, he feels terribly guilty about betraying my parents' trust the way we are, but I think this will all work out in the end.

     I'm typing this on my laptop in his library.  There's a thunderstorm brewing, so I'm going to call my parents and tell them I'm too scared to walk home.  Sebby is standing behind me, rubbing my shoulders.  As usual, his touch is sending little shivers up and down my spine.

    He's chuckling and teasing me about my spelling, punctuation and grammar.  I guess some things will never change!

     Oops, the storm just knocked out the lights again.  Gee -- I guess that leaves only one thing for Sebby and me to do now!

     Good-night!

[Jefferson_Thom…]

There -- finished!  Hope you like it!

Jeff

[pupdog96]

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Jefferson_Thomas wrote:

I finally took some time on weekends to finish this story.  I'm going to post it in many sections tonight.  I hope people like it.

This story suddenly took on a life of its own and took itself in a direction completely different from what I think the original poster intended, and for that I think I owe Pupdog96 an apology.  I hope I didn't ruin your story!

Pass the popcorn; here we go . . .

Jeff

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Thank you for the apology. It is greatly appriciated. I originally didnt have a direction to take this, so i was hoping someone else would do that and you did and it turned out really good!

[Jefferson_Thom…]

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pupdog96 wrote:

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Jefferson_Thomas wrote:

I finally took some time on weekends to finish this story.  I'm going to post it in many sections tonight.  I hope people like it.

This story suddenly took on a life of its own and took itself in a direction completely different from what I think the original poster intended, and for that I think I owe Pupdog96 an apology.  I hope I didn't ruin your story!

Pass the popcorn; here we go . . .

Jeff

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Thank you for the apology. It is greatly appriciated. I originally didnt have a direction to take this, so i was hoping someone else would do that and you did and it turned out really good!

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Thanks, Pupdog!

Jeff