Boy in a Band (A Morgan Mallory story) (22 page)

             
I tried to remember where it was exactly. I could see Mathew and me sitting on the swing in Kevin’s backyard.
Oh shit, it was his bedroom, the first cross-over, after I’d tried to set rules for Mathew. How could I forget?

             
“I need to find Mathew and tell him goodbye,” I said.

             
I knew my motive was twofold: to say goodbye and for him to know I was leaving with Kevin. It might get to him. I wanted to make absolutely sure he knew.

“I’ll meet you in the entry in a few minutes
,” I said, slipping my shorts and T-shirt on over my suit.

             
I found Mathew in the kitchen, talking. He smiled at me a knowing, sexy smile, which made my blood boil.

“I’m leaving
. Thanks for the party,” I said, not feeling as nice as I sounded.

             
Mathew stared at me, and for a split second, I thought I saw some remorse, and then it was gone.

             
“You and Gayle off?” he asked.

“Gayle left a long time ago
; I’m leaving with Kevin,” I answered.

He
came toward me and took my arm moving us around the corner, away from the people in the kitchen.

             
“Morgan, don’t do anything crazy,” he whispered in a harsh tone.

I looked at him
, and the anger rose up in my chest. It rose higher and higher and then welled over and made me feel mean. I bit my tongue a little. A small, frustrated laugh escaped my lips.

             
“Ha. Crazy?” I said, locking eyes with him.

             
He stared back at me.

             
“What’s
crazy
is the way you act. Now that’s crazy,” I said through a clenched jaw before I turned and walked away.

             
Kevin was standing alone in the entry and I took a deep breath to try and calm myself. To not appear the way I felt.

“Find him?” Kevin asked.

              “Yep. Let’s go,” I said, opening the door and hurrying out.

             
“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m perfect
,” I said, taking his hand.

             
We had walked a short distance when he put his arm around my shoulders. It felt good to be with Kevin, but my anger at Mathew was not far from the surface.

“What’s the deal with you and Mat
hew?”

             
“Nothing, we're friends,” I answered.

“
Sometimes it seems like you’re mad at him,” he said.

Mad, today he’d made me furious.

              “He can be challenging sometimes. Our families hang out a lot together, so I see him a lot. Let’s not talk about him.”

             
We got to his house, and he opened the front door for me.

“In here
,” Kevin said, taking my hand and leading me into the family room.

The room was
dimly lit, a brown upholstered couch against the window wall facing into the room. Two red armchairs were on the other wall, with a table lamp in between them. A wooden coffee table was in front of the couch littered with magazines. The TV sat across the room from the couch on a metal stand. I sat down on the couch and Kevin set two beers down in front of me.

             
“Here, open these,” he said. “I’m going to put these other beers in the fridge and give my brother the heads-up that he’s driving you home later.”

             
He disappeared down the hall while I opened the beers. I walked across the room and turned on the TV. I was surfing when he came back.

              “He’s cool with it. Find anything interesting?”

             
“I just turned it on,” I said.

             
I flipped through once, then found a western with John Wayne.

             
“This okay?”

             
“Sure, I like westerns.”

I’
d seen it before, but it didn’t matter. I left it there and

returned to the couch
. We sat close together. He put his arm around me. His movements felt a little strained, like he was nervous. I leaned into him and he kissed me. He kissed me gently, timidly, nothing like Mathew, who had kissed me with a kind of hunger earlier.
Mathew, damn you, get out of my head!
Kevin started to relax as I reciprocated his attention, returning his kiss. I wanted to feel feelings like I felt when Mathew kissed me.
Where are you, where is that fire?
He started to kiss me more confidently. Kevin got up and turned off the lights. The blue glow of the TV lit the room.

“You looked hot today
,” he said, kissing my neck, then coming back to my lips. “Would it be all right if we went to my room?”

I took his hand in confirmation
. He led me down the hall. The room was dark, the moon shining through the sliding glass door. I was glad he didn’t try to turn on a light. I looked at the bed. I saw Mathew lying there with his shirt open.
No!
I blinked my eyes several times, and the vision went away. I went to Kevin, pressing into him. He lifted my T-shirt off. I untied my bikini top and let it fall to the floor. He seemed pleasantly surprised as he put his hands on my breasts. I waited to feel some of the intense desire I’d experienced with Mathew. Nothing.
Take the plunge, Morgan, get it over with, lose the virgin title
is all I could think of.

Kevin fumbled to undo my shorts
. I took over stripping everything off. I had never been naked in front of a guy before. I felt like I should not be feeling so disconnected, I wondered if it was just nerves. “Don’t do anything crazy” I heard Mathew say in my head and I got angry all over again. Kevin took off his clothes. I knew I was going to have sex with him. I knew after this, I wasn’t going to be the “little virgin” anymore. As much as the thought pissed me off, I wished it was Mathew. I hoped Kevin would brag to Mathew. I could only hope it would hurt him.

I concen
trated on Kevin, who was making me feel things that were new.
Where is the fire?
screamed in my head. He kissed me more intensely, running his hands down my body. He moved me toward the bed. When we lay down next to each other, he moved his hand to my crotch. He pushed his fingers into me, turning up the heat, but only a little. I reached for his cock, knowing he was already hard. I stopped.

“What?” h
e asked.

             
“Condom,” I said.

             
“Where? I don’t have one.”

             
“I do,” I said, reaching over him to my purse.

             
“You do?” he asked, surprised.

             
I handed him the condom. I watched him fumble with the package. He looked at me shyly.

             
“Morgan, I’ve never done this before. I’m a virgin.”

I almost laughed out loud.
Here I was mad at Mathew, giving up my virginity to get it over with, and hoping it would ultimately hurt Mathew, and I’d picked another virgin.
Great!

             
“That makes two of us, Kev. Let’s get this virgin thing over with,” I said.

I watched as he rolled the condom on
. He got on top of me awkwardly. As Kevin entered me, I felt a stab of pain, then it was gone, and the pleasure started. It was to be short-lived as Kevin finished in a hurry.
This is what everyone’s so charged about? What’s so great about that?
Afterwards we lay on the bed in each other’s arms. I knew I would never be with him again. I knew I cared about Kevin, and we had shared a special moment, but my heart wasn’t there.

             
“Can your brother take me home now?” I asked, feeling the need to go.

             
“No problem,” Kevin said, putting his clothes back on.

I don’t know if Mike
figured out what had gone on, but it was a quiet, uncomfortable ride home. I looked out the window into the night, watching the streetlights pass. Kevin held my hand, like it was what he should do. I wondered what Mathew was doing. Kevin walked me to the door.

“Morgan
, I had a really good time. Can I see you again?” he asked.

I didn’t feel the connection and I guessed he was being polite more than really feeling it too.

              “It was fun. We’ll see how things go,” I answered.

It wasn’t very late when I got home
, but I was tired. The day in the sun, the beer, the emotion with Mathew, the emotion with Kevin, was all weighing on me.

“Mathew called
,” my mom said. “He asked you to call him no matter what time you got home.”

             
“I’ll call him tomorrow,” I said as I headed up the stairs to my room.

Chapter
26

Kevin wouldn’t brag to Mathew, in fact he wouldn’t say a word
about us to anyone. He told me it was between us and I appreciated that our one time together wasn’t spread all over school. As close as he and Mathew were though I figured he would at least share it with him, hoped he would, but he’d kept his word. I would be the one to throw it in Mathew’s face after a severe bout of teasing from him one evening in his room.
My little virgin
he joked as our conversation graduated again to sex.

“Ha
s Kevin said anything to you about the day of the pool party?” I asked. “Anything about after we left?”

             
He looked at me puzzled. I kept quiet as I watched the wheels turn. His lips grew tight, almost as if he was hiding a frown.

             
“You and Kevin?” he asked.

             
He waited for me to respond. The way his eyes searched mine sent a chill down my spin.

             
“No?” he whispered.

I didn’t answer, which answered him
. I couldn’t tell if it was relief or hurt I saw in his eyes. Suddenly I felt guilty and looked away. I waited for him to say something, or tease me. Instead he picked up his guitar and started to play. He started with “Wild Horses”
then stopped. “I know it’s your fav,” I heard him say. He started again with Styx's “Fooling Yourself”
.
He didn’t sing. I heard the words in my head. I knew this was his way of losing himself.

I a
ssumed my place on his bed, listening. I wondered what he was thinking.
Was he mad? How could he be mad? Had he not had every opportunity to be with me? To be the one I really wanted?
He finally put the guitar down.

“Morgan
,” he started and paused.

He seemed at a loss as to what to say
. I opened my arms in invitation. He came to me on the bed. He laid his head in my lap, and I stroked his hair back from his face.
Oh, Mathew, it should have been you.

             
“Where did you go when you left here?” he asked.

             
“To his house,” I answered.

             
“Were his parents home?” he asked absently.

             
“No, just Mike. He drove me home.”

             
I played with his hair; running thick bunches of it through my fingers gently.

             
“How’s practice been going with the band?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

             
“Good. We’re writing more of our own stuff.”

“What do you write about?”
I asked.

             
“Life, girls, feelings,” he paused, “lyrics tell a story you know. Do you listen to the lyrics when you hear a song?”

             
I thought about it a minute.

             
“I think I listen. I’ve never looked at it closely like that.”

             
He rolled over onto his back and pulled me around on top of him. He framed my face with his hands. His eyes searched mine.

             
“What?” I asked.

             
He wanted something. I waited. I wasn’t going to help him. Whatever his feelings were about my news he was going to have to find the words.

             
“Are you seeing him now?” he asked.

             
“Would it matter?”

             
“Depends.”

             
I took a deep breath.

             
“I can’t even pretend to understand you,” I said, starting to pull away.

He pulled my face to his and kissed me
. I could feel his desire. I could feel the fire between us.
There it is; how do you do that to me? Why couldn’t Kevin?
He rolled me to the side as he continued to kiss me, his tongue gently probing, circling mine. Sliding a hand under my shirt he cupped my breast over my bra. I reached around and un-hooked it allowing him to feel, skin to skin. He squeezed and then tugged at my hard nipple and I could feel between my legs go wet with desire.

“Oh, Mathew,” I moaned.

He moved lower and unbuttoned my jeans and pulled the zipper down slowly. I writhed in anticipation. I looked into his face as he slid his hand inside my pants. His fingers reached my pubic hair and then continued further. He pressed them on my clitoris and then rolled them from side to side. I closed my eyes, concentrating not to orgasm. I gave a brief thought to our moms having cocktails by the pool and then it raced out of my mind.

Mathew
started kissing me again as his fingers pushed inside of me. I moaned softly, as he moved two fingers in and out of me, in and out, circling, probing, making me wetter and wetter. I moved my body in rhythm with his hand. In my mouth his tongue was searching and teasing.

“Ahh,” I gasped softly.

This sound of pleasure made him increase his tempo. Pushing his fingers into me harder and faster. I wanted him so badly. I knew what an orgasm felt like; I’d had plenty of them on my own, thinking about Mathew. Hell, he could almost get me to orgasm just by kissing me. I reached down and felt his hardness through his jeans. I wished we could strip naked and have sex, but knew it was way too risky. I pushed my body into his as his fingers worked a magic I’d never known. He seemed to know exactly how to take me up the hill to the peak, ultimately sending me off the cliff.

“Mathew
,” I whispered as my body arched in a teeth clenching orgasm and then relaxed.

The feeling was intense, so much more than I ever thought possible
. What Kevin was unable to do with the actual act, Mathew accomplished easily with just his fingers. I opened my eyes slowly, embarrassed.

             
“Did it feel like that?” he asked, kissing me softly.

             
My brain was trying to catch up, my body still tingling. He meant Kevin I realized.

             
“No. Nothing like that,” I said, doing up my jeans.

             
“Good,” he said, pleased with himself.

For a reason I couldn’t understand, the knowledge of Kevin seemed to
open a door for him.

My dad lost his job that summer. Several months went by until he found a new one, in San Diego. At first he commuted between his job and home. He would be gone for weeks at a time, and I could feel the tension between my parents. They fought a lot. Surprisingly, mom and I actually started getting along.

             
Then she caught Gayle and me smoking pot one night in my backyard. Where I thought I would catch hell, it brought us closer. She started talking to me like an adult instead of a kid. It was finally disclosed to Pat and me that a move was no doubt coming. My dad wanted to make sure the job would work out before he moved us. I felt like my world was coming apart.

             
“Can you believe this, Mathew?” I asked for probably the hundredth time.

“I know
. Been there, remember how upset I was?”

I recalled discussions, but he also wasn’t having to move hundreds of miles away. He was still in San Jose, still able to see his old friends pretty easily.

              “You talked about it, but you didn’t seem that upset,” I said.

             
“I was. Mad as hell in fact.”

             
“It seemed like such an easy transition to me,” I said.

             
“It wasn’t.”

             
I thought about how easily he had fit in at school, somehow I didn’t think it would be the same for me.

              “I feel sad.
Mad
hasn’t hit.”

             
“Just don’t cry, okay?” he said as he listened, tuning his guitar.

             
I’d done that to him more than once recently. He wasn’t good at knowing how to comfort me, except by a kiss when I got emotional.

             
“I keep thinking this can’t really be happening. Not now.”

Kim and Mathew had broken up right before school
started. Neither of us was dating anyone, but we weren’t officially dating each other either. He was busy with the band. It had become the new girlfriend. Football, along with most sports, was becoming less and less important to him. Everything was changing. It frustrated Gayle that, with the door wide open, Mathew and I didn’t become a couple. I stupidly couldn’t answer her questions.

Over Thanksgiving
, my parents were off to house hunt in San Diego, even though our house needed to sell before we could move. The market was slow, and I hoped it would stay that way. Meanwhile, Pat and I were staying at the O’Conner’s. Brad and Ann were also going to be out of town, so Mathew and I were to be in charge for three days.

             
“Party central,” Mathew said.

             
“Mathew, don’t let it get it too far out there,” I said. “They obviously think we can be responsible.”

             
This arrangement did not go down well with Pat, Sam, or Sara, but their complaints went unheard. Mathew turned Thanksgiving dinner into a freak fest, inviting several friends over to drop acid.

             
“Come on, Morgan,” he said as they licked blue stars off a piece of paper.

             
It looked pretty harmless, but I had heard about kids tripping. Seeing colors, and lines in the air, and shit; I had no desire to hallucinate.

             
“I don’t want to,” I said.

             
“Come on,” he said, waving it at me. “Don’t be a baby.”

             
I didn’t care if they all thought I was chicken, I was.

             
“No. I’m fine with cocktails. You guys do it.”

             
Mathew planned for us to cook dinner as a group. Once the acid kicked in for them, I felt as though I was on acid. They said they saw colors and talked about nothing that made any sense. They tried to help cook, and they got down and watched the floor breathe. They would laugh at things that I apparently couldn’t see.

Dinner was a disaster
. The turkey was raw, as they hadn’t turned on the oven to the right temperature. The mashed potatoes, from a box, had too much water and turned out like soup. I gave up. I told Pat and them to eat cereal. I cleaned up the kitchen while Mathew and his friends tripped. I went to bed in the guest room, locking the door. I didn’t want crazy people waking me up. I slept fitfully as the party raged into the wee hours.

             
It was quiet when I woke up and I lay in bed listening for any sign of sound before I got up. I walked out to the kitchen to survey. It was a disaster, as was the family room. There were beer cans and glasses all over the place, ashtrays with cigarette butts and ends of joints. I quietly cleaned up and made some coffee.
Man, if that’s what acid did to you, no thank you.
I sat at the kitchen counter and called Gayle.

             
“Wow, Morgan,” she said when I had told her the story.

             
“I know. Pat, Sara, and Sam didn’t understand why they were so stupid. They’ve been pissed about the whole deal anyway. They stayed far removed, at the other end of the house.”

             
I chuckled about Mathew and his friends being so out there.
Crazies.

“It was sort of funny to watch
. This will be a Thanksgiving I won’t ever forget.”

             
“You sleep with him?” she asked.

             
“No. He was more into partying than anything.”

             
I’d been disappointed he’d preferred a party than to us hanging.

“Where is he now?”

              “Sleeping, I guess,” I said. “I haven’t seen him yet this morning. Haven’t seen anyone. He’s having another party tonight. Come hang with me please. I need someone normal; you can spend the night,” I pleaded.

             
“If I have to watch people watch the floor breathe, I’ll lose it.”

             
She hesitated. Gayle didn’t much like big parties, she drank, but she wasn’t a big drinker, and she hated it when people got out of control.

             
“Please? We can get drunk together, ignore the rest,” I begged.

             
“Okay, but I’m locking myself in your room if it gets out of hand.”

When I h
ung up, I walked down the hall to Mathew’s room. Jack, one of his band mates, was in his bed. Both Sam's and Sara’s doors were closed. When I went to the master bedroom, Mathew was on his stomach, spread diagonally across the bed with his clothes still on. He looked peaceful, and I turned to leave.