A Bright, Shiny New Love
Elaine was Tim’s new girlfriend, unofficially, but one would never know it, from the remote way in which they interacted. At first just best buds, they had taken to hanging out together after school, with no romantic overtures. Elaine, however, a new student this year, was determined to correct that trajectory. She began by telling all her friends that the two of them were an item, and that she “had dibs” on Tim. Tim, however, apparently hadn’t gotten the memo, and remained strangely unaffected. The only time he would even touch the girl was when he tickled her. Elaine was perplexed; at sixteen — the same age as Tim — she had had boyfriends before, and none of them behaved as Tim did. He’d never even tried to kiss her! Was there something wrong with her? she wondered. She lifted her arm and sniffed. She was a few pounds overweight, but others told her she was cute, and she’d never had any difficulties before. Could the problem, then, be with him? She wondered: had he ever actually kissed a girl before? Elaine had dated guys at her old high school, in Reller, before her family moved to this school district, earlier this year. She was used to dealing with a faster crowd, but she really liked this guy. She blew out a breath and shook her head in perplexity. She knew that there were boys who’d never kissed a girl before. That was the case with every boy, she rationalized, until they just did it. She would have to teach him to kiss, she decided with a sigh. But, it could be fun.
. . . . .
That evening Elaine and Tim went to see a movie and Elaine placed her arm over Tim’s on the armrest, tried to snuggle a little. Their flesh was hot where they touched
“Oh, sorry,” spluttered Tim, moving his arm. Elaine rolled her eyes.
After the movie, they drifted to Tim’s car. Elaine stood against the driver’s side door and waited. She had a purpose in mind.
“I’d better get you home,” said Tim, trying to reach around the girl. She didn’t move, but eased in close to him and tilted back her pretty head, mouth slightly open. She waited exoectantly. What did this boy need, a road map?
“Why does she keep getting so close?” wondered Tim, still without a clue. In the back of his mind was the notion that she wanted to be kissed, but the idea terrified him. The only females he’d ever kissed were family members and that hadn’t been any fun. But he was interested in making out with Elaine; he just didn’t know how to go about it. Confronted again by the persistent Elaine’s proximity, Tim did what he usually did to relieve the sexual tension: he tickled her. Squealing, she moved aside, but as he unlocked the door, she moved in quickly, wrapped her hands around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips. He seemed shocked, but almost immediately began kissing her back. He was a fast learner, thought Elaine with satisfaction. That was easy, Tim told himself excitedly. These Reller girls, he thought giddily, are hot!
It was a similar experience, weeks later, the first time they had sex. Closeted in Tim’s car, they necked and Tim rapidly circled the bases, but his car was just too darn small to allow love-making. And agan, he was steeped in ignorance; what if he did the wrong thing? By this time, she had trained him in practical use of the tongue. He took to it like a natural. This project was progressing well, thought Elaine. Soon, all Tim wanted to do was make out, and his appetites, like Elaine’s, were proceeding apace. They were groping one another with increasingly sensitive, probing fingers. If only they could glean some privacy.
Once again, it was she who had to act. After considerable frustration and scheming, Elaine enlisted the aid of her older sister, Marsha, who agreed to allow the pair the use of her bedroom in the apartment she shared with two other girls.
“I’ve got a surprise,” Elaine told Tim temptingly one night.
“Another one?” he blurted. Things were progressing so fast that his mind was awhirl. What next, did she want to drop some acid? he wondered bleakly.
“I found us a place,” she said cryptically.
“You mean….” Then he stopped.
“Marsha’s place,” she elaborated. “She and her roommates will be out of the apartment for two hours, on Saturday afternoon.”
Tim only stared at her.
Again, Elaine rolled her eyes. “Don’t you wanna get laid?” she asked bluntly.
The light of anticipation glittered in Tim’s eyes.
Saturday afternoon found the erstwhile lovers sitting on Marsha’s twin bed in the bedroom of her apartment. A new artist, Elton John, was playing on the radio. Elaine smiled seductively, but Tim just sat there like a sack of flour. She leaned in and kissed him passionately. Tim’s pulse and breathing accelerated at once.
“Let’s get undressed,” suggested Elaine in a sultry voice.
Mutely, they began disrobing. Elaine wondered furtively if the diet she’d labored under had borne any fruit. She fretted self-consciously. Tim, on the other hand, unaccountably, worried that he wouldn’t get an erection. Which, naturally, he did.
“Um,” purred Elaine, looking asppreciatively at Tim’s naked physique. Noting her comment, he swaggered a bit.
Finally, they collapsed into one another’s arms on the bed. Tim felt like he had a raging fever.
“Come here, baby,” coaxed Elaine, drawing Tim atop her. Moving as if in a dream, Tim slipped inside his lover and came immediately.
“Oops, sorry, Elaine,” he muttered contritely.
“That’s okay,” murmured Elaine lovingly. “We’ve got lots of time.” And they did.
. . . . .
Dinner at Elaine’s house came about as a matter of course; her parents wanted to check out the young scamp that their perfect daughter was spending so much time with. They had met him, but only briefly, a couple of times when Tim picked her up for a date. The teens had been seeing each other for almost four weeks and their relationship, they thought, had already covered a lot of ground. It had been just three weeks since they first kissed, one week since they’d had sex. Tim sometimes felt like he was just along for the ride. Elaine was talking about buying a lid of pot.
Tim met the father. “When Elaine told me that you never let her pay for anything on your dates,” said the older man, “my opinion of you increased by fifty percent.” Tim smiled happily. “Then again,” continued her father philosophically, “what’s one half of nothing?” He chuckled evilly. Tim’s face fell.
Elaine had two sisters still living at home, both pretty, like her. Tim was fascinated by Sue, just fourteen, but scantily clad in panties and halter top. If his own sister dressed that way, even at home, his parents would clobber her, he thought. Blonde Lois was just a year younger than Elaine, and very sexy indeed. Dinner was a nightmare: Mrs. Foster served everything that Tim hated, but he managed to stuff some of it down his throat, somehow. Interestingly, the family drank wine with their dinner, and that included the children, all underaged. Tim dutifully sipped a glass of red, instantly felt his face balloon with heat. This was his first experience with wine. But, it would not be his last, he decided hedonistically.
“Here, have another glass of wine, Tim,” offered Mona, Elaine’s heavy-set mother, again and again. Tim frowned at her thoughtfully. He wondered if this woman epitomized his girlfriend in thirty years. He shrugged the thought away, drank more wine. George Foster — Elaine’s father — alone didn’t drink wine; he imbibed beer — can aftere can after can of lager.
After the first three glasses of wine, Tim’s appetite began to pick up and he even found himself selecting a second helping of the loathsome butternut squash which had nearly caused him to vomit earlier. Finally, the interminable meal was over and Tim, with six glasses of wine under his belt, fretted that he wasn’t fit to drive. He hiccupped.
“You’ve had a touch too much to drink,” tittered Mona in a drunken voice. “You can stay over; I’ll call your mom, okay, dear?”
Tim nodded. He was having trouble seeing.
A bed was made up for the visitor on the sofa in the living room. Tim collapsed onto the blankets and was almost instantly asleep. According to the clock on the mantle, it was three a.m. when Tim was awakened by a wet feeling on his face. Shaking his head, he withdrew an inch.
“Wha…” he said.
There ensued a high-pitched giggling. Tim opened his eyes and observed several murky shapes drifting through the shadows and doing unspeakable things to his privates. Tim swiftly reached down and removed a small feminine hand, with long, tapered fingers, from his crotch.
“What’re you doing?” he asked in alarm.
“Don’t you have a clue?” asked fourteen-year-old Sue, now completely naked. She giggled again. Another female form — Lois this time — was crawling under the sheets with him.
“What the hell!” declared a familiar but angry voice. Elaine shooed the other girls away, and none-too-gently. “Skanks!” she hissed venomously. The two girls scurried back to their rooms, more laughter trailing in their wake. Tim sat there, stricken, in shock.
“Poor baby,” cooed Elaine, embracing her boyfriend in a much-needed hug, and copping a cheap feel at the same time.
. . . . .
As the school year progressed, Tim and Elaines relationship blossomed; she began murmuring matter-of-factly about marriage.
Yikes! thought Tim. But, the more he thought about, the better it sounded. He was always more comfortable with the familiar. Besides, his famly just loved Elaine — as did Tim. And he enjoyed having a girlfriend, and being a part of something. But, one day, as Tim waited in his car for Elaine after class, she stood him up. He began to have conniptions. She’d never done this before, and his imagination ran wild; what tragedy might have befallen his one true love? Padding steathily back through the school corridors in search of his girlfriend, Tim abruptly stopped and slunk back around behind the corner. It was Elaine, and she was talking to the school lothario, a jock, the one all the girls called “Mandingo.” They seemed very chummy, Tim thought with annoyance. The girls all talked about Mandingo as a hulking, seething sexual animal. Everyone wanted him, he’d heard. Did Elaine?” he wondered. Mandingo would know how to kiss a girl, he’d know how to get what he wanted. Tim’s cheeks burned, and he hurried back to his car and drove away. For the first time, he began to have doubts about Elaine and the future of their relationship. Tim had talked to a boy who knew the Foster family from when the kids attended their old school, and he’d said that all the Foster girls were “progressive.” Tim had passed this off as envy, but now he reconsidered. His experience at dinner — and afterward — certainly stood out in his mind. Tim filed this all away in the back of his mind.
In trig class the next day, Debbie Hinson, who was easily the homeliest girl in the junior class, had the temerity to ask Tim to the prom. She even offered to pay for his tux and buy the tickets for the after-prom. She seemed rather desperate, thought Tim. He turned her down as gently as possible, but he couldn’t help but smirk a little, a fact not lost on Debbie. What a preposterous girl, he thought.
What’s the matter with Tim? wondered Elaine at about this same time. He seems so distracted, so uptight. Maybe, she thought, he was checking out other girls. He was an attractive boy; other girls would want to date him, kiss him, use him up. That’s just the way people were, she told herself. He’d really shaped up under her tutelage but, she thought jealously, here he was, running out on her. He’d probably break up with her on the eve of the prom and disappoint her, humiliate her; what a rotten shit he was. Elaine had had unfortunate experiences before with boys. She would forestall the embarrassment of a break up, by breaking up with him first. That would show him he couldn’t screw with her. And after all she’d done for him!
Tim and Elaine sat in his car at the drive-in movie on Saturday night, unaware that this would be their final date. They were both brooding. “I want to talk to you, Tim,” she began during the ad for the concession stand.
“Shoot,” he said, nibbling on a hot pickle-on-a-stick. He had ultimately convinced himself that his doubts about his girlfriend were all unfounded, mere products of his own imagination. So what if they hadn’t made love in nearly a month? Things would take care of themselves.
“I think we should see other people,” she said tentatively.
“Other people?” he repeated. “You mean, date other people, kiss other people, make love with other people?” he asked, eyes wide.
“I’m only thinking of you,” she went on disingenously. “You’ve never dated other girls, kissed them, made love to them. What if there’s someone out there who is your soul mate?”
“But, you’re my soul mate, Elaine,” he answered. “I love you,” he declared. “Don’t you love me anymore?” he asked in a plaintive voice. For a moment, Elaine almost lost her resolve, but then she regrouped.
“I like you, Tim — a lot,” she said, confirming his worst fears. “Let’s stay friends, alright? Maybe we’ll get back together later, after we’ve had other experiences, you know? I mean, we’re only sixteen, and there’s a whole big world out there…” Tim knew this was the death knell. For the past school year, it had always been “I love you,” and not once “I like you.” Suddenly he felt cold. Then he grew enraged and hurt.
“I loved you,” he told her, “but you are a total bitch.” She erupted with a torrent of protests, but Tim tuned her out, tossed his uneaten pickle-on-a- stick out his window, and set the speaker back in its perch. Starting the car, he pulled slowly through the lot and exited the fenced-in theater property. When he pulled into Elaine’s driveway, neither of them said a word. The sound of her door opening seemed preternaturally loud, and she slammed it loudly and then walked swiftly across her lawn and let herself into the house. At the tender age of sixteen, Tim had suffered his first abandonment, his first real humiliation, his first broken heart.
Elaine attended the prom with Mandingo, the final insult. They were, Tim learned, voted “Most Attractive Couple.” Tim conjured in his brain the things that the other boy would be doing to Tim’s girl after the prom. His cheeks burned. As for Tim, he found that all presentable girls had by this time been spoken for and he had no date for the prom. Then he remembered. Approaching Debbie Hinson, he asked her if her offer was still open. And he would rent his own tux, he added magnanimously, trying to sweeten the deal. Debbie curled the lip on her homely face and told him to make love to himself. And, skipping the prom and staying home alone that night, he eventually did just that.
