Being A Jerk For Halloween
Chapter : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | Epilogue
I love my grandfather, but he's really old fashioned. He grew
up in the fifties and I guess back then they had all these traditions
and stuff. Like having supper together every night, all
sitting around the table. At the same time! Get a
life! You know? That was just one of the things he
talked about them having to do all the time too.
Anyway, that was all just borderline interesting until my Mom got
T-boned by this guy who ran a red light and it totaled the car and really fucked her
up. What was worse was that it happened in St. Louis, where
she was attending a conference. So Dad had to fly out there
to be with her because she was too banged up to be transferred closer,
and they were going to have to do surgery on her and stuff.
Which meant that my twin sister and I were given over to the tender
care of Grandpa Bob, who we are both named after. My name is
Robert, like him, but I got the nickname Bobby, 'cause he already had
Bob sewed up, even though we call him "Gramps.". Roberta, my
sister, is known by Robbie, unless she's in trouble. I
haven't heard the whole story, but I know it has to do with the fact
that my dad was off in Alaska at the Army's Northern Warfare Training
Center when something went wrong and Mom went into labor way too
soon. Gramps didn't wait for an ambulance and just took her
to the hospital himself and somebody told her he probably saved all
three of us. So we got named after him.
Some twins are inseparable and all that. Not us. I
have no use for my sister, because all she's ever done is get me in
Well ... to be honest ... I had no use for her ... until something
happened that we weren't planning on, and it kind of changed
everything. That's what this story is all about.
It happened fast, so fast that I still have a hard time believing
it. So I'll try to slow things down in the telling, because
that way maybe I can grasp it better myself.
It all started when we got home from school and Gramps was there
waiting for us. Dad had already gone. Gramps sat us
down and told us what he knew about mom. He promised to keep
us "in the loop," which is the way he talks. He was
in the Army too, and he and dad both use language that's funny to most
of our friends. We never lived on post, or went to Army
schools. That was something Gramps recommended to our
Anyway, he said Dad had asked him to look after us and then laid down
some rules. He said they were non-negotiable, and that we
didn't have to like them, but did have to follow them, or we wouldn't
like the outcome. Grandma had been the same way
before she got sick and died. Having spent lots of time at
our grandparents' house, and having broken their rules before, we both
knew what he was talking about.
One of the rules was that we had to be at the table every night for
supper. No TV allowed. No phone calls
accepted. We had to spend supper together, with no
That was the second week of October. The thing that happened
that would change everything was on only the third or fourth night we'd
sat down for the mandatory supper. Neither of us liked
it. We had better things to do, you know? So we
hadn't been very chatty, just eating as fast as we could get away with
and then asking to be excused, which was another one of his old timey
So out of the blue Gramps suddenly asked what we were doing for Halloween.
"There's a dance," said Robbie. She went on eating, like she
thought that would satisfy him.
"And where is this dance?" asked Gramps.
"At school, of course," said Robbie. She took another bite.
"Is it a costume party?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. She really thought she could get away with
short answers. She's always been stubborn like that.
"And what are you going as?" he asked. He sounded really
"I don't know," she said.
"I think you'd make a great Xena, Warrior Princess," he said.
We both stared at him. Xena was on one of the cable channels,
but we both knew it was ancient history.
"I don't think so," said my sister, carefully. But he'd
hooked her. "Why do you think that?"
"You've got the body for it," he said calmly.
She blushed. My sister actually blushed!
"I didn't mean it like that," he laughed. "I meant you have
an athletic build. You could pull off looking dangerous."
"Oh," said Robbie. She sounded funny, like she was a little
disappointed about something, but I couldn't tell for sure.
We don't read each other's moods like a lot of twins, either.
Well ... we didn't used to anyway. Now ...
Anyway, he kept interrogating her until she said she wanted to go as
Alice in Wonderland. He thought that was a great
idea. Then he turned to me.
"And what are you going as?" he asked, assuming I was also going to the
"A jerkoff!" blurted Robbie, laughing at her oh, so funny
"Oh really?" Gramps attention was back on her as she stopped
laughing. "And do you know what a jerkoff really is?"
She blinked. "Well sure," she said, but she didn't sound too
convinced. Gramps had this way of asking questions that kind
of told you there was something wrong. Usually you
didn't know what it was. But he always made sure you got
"Why don't you tell me," he said.
She looked at me, but I just sat there. "You know," she
said. “A pain in the butt."
Gramps shook his head like he was sad. "That's a
jerk. You said a jerk-off. That's not what jerk-off
She blushed again. "I know that,” she said
hurriedly. “It was just a slip of the
tongue. I meant he's going as a jerk ... because
that's what he is ..." She kind of tapered off to nothing,
because her cutsie little joke hadn't worked out very well.
"That was mean," said Gramps.
"It was just a joke!" moaned Robbie. "Gees, Gramps."
"Would it be a joke if he said you were going as a slut?"
She looked shocked. Don't ask me why, but I got a false sense
"No, she's not a slut," I said. "That would be her best friend
Tiffany." I thought I was pretty clever. "She could go as a
skank, though." I grinned.
He looked first at me, and then at Robbie, and then back and forth a
couple of times.
"You two aren't very nice to each other. That makes
We just sat there, wondering what was going to happen.
"I suppose you both have dates to the dance," he said
suddenly. He stared at Robbie first.
"Yeah," she said uncertainly. Then he turned to stare at me.
"I'm going to ask this girl I know," I said carefully. I had
to be careful, because if Robbie knew who I was going to ask, she'd
sabotage it for me if she could.
"Hmmmmm," said Gramps. "I'll have to think about this."
"What do you mean?" asked Robbie, suddenly alert.
"I mean I'm disappointed that you two, who have a chance to forge a
friendship that can last a lifetime, are turning your backs on each
other. You have all the comforts life has to offer, but are
cruel to each other. You're wasting something precious, and
that's not acceptable. I'm not sure you should be allowed to
do fun things like going to this dance, until you learn how to behave
towards each other."
"You're not our parents, Gramps!" said Robbie, suddenly
tense. "We have rights!"
"The first part is true," he said, smiling a smile that made a chill go
down my spine. "But I am responsible for you until your
parents get back. And as sad as it may seem to you, living in
this great country, which has given you advantages most of the world
could only dream about, minors have very few rights. I have a
power of attorney, signed by your father, that says I get to make the
decisions, whether you like it or not."
"Come on, Gramps," moaned Robbie. "We were just fooling
"First you're jerking off, and now you're fooling around?"
Gramps could make his eyebrows go up an inch.
"Gees, Gramps," moaned Robbie, blushing again.
"So, when you go out on dates do you fool around?" he asked interestedly.
"Gees, Gramps!" she whined.
"Well that kind of thing seems to be on your mind a lot," said Gramps,
He looked at me. "So ... are you still a virgin too?"
I was right in the middle of swallowing, and started to choke.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said calmly.
"Good. I approve."
Having managed to finish supper and get away from the table, we were
both headed to our rooms.
"What the hell was all that about?" asked Robbie from behind me.
"I was just joking," I said. "You're not a skank. I was just
"Not that," she said. "Gramps! Can you believe he
"Believe what? He said a lot of things."
"About him asking us if we were virgins. Can you believe
"He only asked me," I said.
She punched me. "You know what I mean. He assumed
I'm one and then actually asked you!"
I looked over at her. "So are you?"
She stared at me, and her mouth looked like Fluffy, who was a goldfish
we had one time. We only kept him alive for three weeks, so he was our
"Of course I am!" she spluttered. "Not that it's any more
your business than it is Gramps'!" She stopped and her
eyebrows rose. "Was he right? Are you really a
I almost laughed. "Who would I get it on with? You
make sure I can't even get a girl to go out with me once!"
"I do not," she said, looking guilty.
"Some of them have told me you ... um ... explained things to them," I
said. "Shawna Weaver even said she doesn't go out with boys
who are classified as perverts by their own sister."
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't think they'd all listen to
"Well they do," I said. "Which is why I'm not telling you who
I'm asking to the dance." I frowned. "If we even
get to go, that is."
"He can't do that," she said.
"He can do anything he wants to. Just ask him," I said back.
"I'm calling Daddy!" she said.
I followed her to her room and watched her pick up her cell
phone. She flipped it open and punched the speed dial for
Dad's phone. She looked mad, which I should have
been used to seeing, but her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was kind
of messed up. She has pure black hair, but it's fine, not
heavy like most black hair, and it flies this way and that.
She was breathing faster than usual too, and I caught myself watching
the front of her shirt expanding and contracting. She was my
sister, but she was a girl too, you know?
Anyway, he answered and she complained to him about Gramps and made it
sound like he was Hitler or something. Then she stopped
talking and listened and went kind of pale.
"Okay," she said. Then "I promise. I love you too."
She flipped the phone closed.
"He's worried about Mom," she said. "He didn't yell at me,
but I know he wanted to."
"No slack with Gramps, huh?" I said.
"None at all," she sighed. "We are to do whatever he says and
bite the bullet, period."
"Shit," I said.
"If Gramps hears you say that he'll probably wash your mouth out with
soap," she warned.
"What are we going to do?" I asked.
She looked at me.
"We're going to get along until mom and dad get home," she said.
It all sounded good, you know. Like "I'm going to get more
exercise and eat right and get in shape." It's easy to say,
but the doing of it doesn't come that simply.
We did make an effort to be civil to each other, at least in front of
Gramps. One of his other rules was that he wasn't our
housekeeper, which meant we had to pick up the slack when it came to
the routine things mom and dad did around the house. Who
would have thought they had all that to do? It was like all
we had time for when we got home from school were chores, supper and
Before this we had tried to get each other to do everything.
We tried to make deals, or get Gramps to award some chore to the other
by making some complaint. But now we decided we'd just do
everything together, so it got done quick and both of us did the same
amount of work. It wasn't bad, actually, because things did
go more quickly.
But her little comments to me didn't change. She had been
calling me "jerkoff" for so long that I think it was just ingrained in
her brain, and she kept doing that. Except when Gramps was
around. Now that I look back on it, I realize she was
thinking about it, because she could control it when Gramps might hear
But it was a source of friction. I never had a nickname for
her for some reason. Don't ask me why. But when she
pretended to be all sweetness and light in front of Gramps, but kept
calling me "Jerkoff" in private, it called for some kind of
response. You know?
So I nicknamed her "Titless."
I know, it was stupid. I mean she did have tits.
And she had pretty good ones too, from what I could see, which wasn't
much. But I knew that Tiffany and Ashley, her two best
friends, were bigger than her in the chest department, and I had
already learned that that seemed to matter to girls. And it
did get to her too. It got to her from the very first time I
I don't remember what we were doing, but I do remember her stopping and
turning to stare at me. "What did you say?"
"I called you titless," I said, smiling
confidently. "You call me jerkoff, so I get to call
you something too."
"That's just plain stupid," she said pushing her chest out at
me. "I have tits!"
"Yeah," I said confidently. "But they're tiny compared to
"You're a prick!" she hissed at me.
"Hence my propensity to jerk off ... hence your nickname for me ...
hence the validity of my nickname for you!" I grinned.
Her eyes narrowed. "You know something? Ashley said
she hoped you'd ask her to the dance. I told her I'd think
about it, but now I'm going to tell her it would be a huge mistake and
to stay as far away from you as possible!"
"Where do you come off "allowing" a girl to go out with me?" I
gasped. "Who do you think you are?"
"I'm the girl who's going to make sure you're still a virgin
when you're thirty!" she yelled.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," came a voice from the end of the hall.
We both turned to see Gramps standing there, arms crossed, leaning
against the wall. He'd obviously been standing there a while.
We just didn't know how long, or how much he'd heard.
We were both sitting on the couch. Gramps was standing in
front of us, looking as huge as he did when we were little.
He's a muscular guy.
"You have two choices," he said firmly. "You can go
to the dance as each other's date, or you can elect to invite some
friends to do some public service, after which you can have a get
together of some kind here."
"That's not fair!" wailed Robbie.
"I didn't say you had two fair choices," said Gramps. "I'll
add in a third, though. You can do nothing that night ...
just treat it like any other night and stay home. That's
fair, I think."
I think Robbie and I both thought of the fourth possibility at the same
time; that Gramps would arrange something for us to do. That
might even be more disastrous than what was already on the
table. We sat there, afraid to say anything. I
finally hazarded a question.
"What do you mean by public service?"
"I was thinking of the haunted houses that civic clubs put on, or one
of those safe, alternative events for little kids they have at the YMCA
or at churches around town."
"You mean volunteer to work at one of these things?" asked
Robbie. "How are we supposed to get our friends to do that,
instead of going to the dance?"
"I didn't say your friends had to do it. I said you'd have to
invite them to do it. Only the two of you would have to do
it. I suppose you could still have a party afterwards, but it
would be a lot more fun if everybody volunteered and then had the
party. That's what I think anyway. It's just one of your
options." He looked at us for a few
seconds. "Or you could go to the dance together.
I'll let you two negotiate for a while," he said, and got up and went
into the kitchen.
"Look what you did now!" growled my sister.
"Me? What did I do?"
"You called me titless!" she hissed.
"You called me jerkoff!" I shot back.
"Shhhhh! He'll hear us and who knows what he'll do then," she
We sat there for a while.
"I'm not going to the dance with you as my date," she said, finally.
"Duh," I replied.
"Dave Moss asked me to the dance," she said. "There's no way
he'll come to a party here, at our house. Not when he finds
out it will be chaperoned by a geezer with a zillion rules."
"Would Ashley come?" I asked.
She turned on me with murder in her eye, and I backed up.
"I was just asking," I said, trying to hide a smile.
"Why do you do these things to me?" she asked, looking like she was
actually going to cry.
"I don't do anything to you," I argued. "Things just happen
between us, that's all."
"You're ruining my life," she said dramatically.
"Oh, give me a break," I said. "You're seventeen.
Your life has barely started. A year from now you'll be off
at college doing what you want, when you want, with whoever you
want. I'll be off at some other college doing the same thing
and you'll never have to see me again in your whole life!"
She blinked, and stared at me for so long I thought she was thinking
about something else completely. Then she frowned.
"Gramps!" she called out.
He came back into the living room with ice cream cones for us
both. His own was half eaten, and ours were beginning to drip
down the sides. He sat down.
"Before you tell me your decision, I feel it's only fair to tell you
that, if you go to the dance as each other's date, I'll volunteer to
chaperone the dance ... just to make sure you actually spend time
Robbie acted like she hadn't even heard him. "We'd like to do
the volunteer thing and have a party here," she said.
"Wait a minute!" I said.
Robbie turned to me and put her hand on my thigh. "Please,
Bobby," she said. It actually sounded like she meant
it. That "please," I mean.
"Whatever," I said. After all, I hadn't asked anybody yet,
and the girls I was really interested in were her friends, not that
that would ever work out. But there it was. It
didn't really matter to me.
"You two have to plan it, and get everything ready," said Gramps.
"We know," said Robbie. I stared at her. It was
like she had done a complete one-eighty.
What was going on here?
We were smart enough to go into Robbie's room this time, so he couldn't
sneak up on us.
"What the hell?" I asked.
"Language," she chided.
"What the fuck, then!" I snapped.
"Come on, Bobby, we have to work together on this."
"Because you decided we would?" I asked.
"Yes," she said.
"And who made you boss again?"
"Nobody," she said. "Nobody is boss. We got into
this mess together, and we're going to get out together.
That's all. Do you really want people to see us come to the
dance together and dance together while Gramps stands with the teachers
and watches us?"
"No," I admitted. "But it sounded like you were going to go
the other way anyway."
"I was," she said.
"Why?" I asked. "Why not just blow off the night
completely? He'd let us, you know."
"That's the problem," she said. "If we did that we'd just be
screwing up each other's night, just like always. He's
right. We are mean to each other."
She looked at me.
"So maybe he's right. Maybe we need to grow out of
I'm a follower. There's nothing wrong with that.
The world needs followers. So what if it isn't as glamorous
as being a leader. Somebody has to do it, right?
Robbie, on the other hand, is a leader. Which is why she did
all the research to find out what was available, and figured out how to
sell it to our friends. She's the one who went to the Y
and asked them if they needed any help. They had two things
going, one for little kids and one for teens and young
adults. When she offered to try to find some other kids to
help with their haunted house, they were overjoyed about it.
And she's the one who decided that the volunteers would work three
nights, instead of just one, because then Mr. Jackson, the Civics
teacher, would give extra credit to the participants if they put in at
least eight hours. And she even figured out that all this
could be done the three nights before the dance, so that everybody
could still go do that. Well, all the others could
go. That didn't get her and me off the hook, except that we
still got to have what Robbie called an "after dance
party." But she thought about all this, which was
how she figured out ways to make people want to do it, because it got
them something and didn't cost anything except some time. Plus they got
to do it together, which was the whole point, you know?
So that's how it came to be that Ashley, Tiffany, Gretchen and my
sister, along with my best friend John and two other guys we both know
named Chris and Larry, all ended up dressed up as zombies and working
inside the YMCA haunted house. Robbie assigned
partners. I think she threw me a bone because I ended up with
Ashley. We operated this air puff thing, where there was
compressed air in a tank, and you pulled this lever which sent a blast
of air into the people walking through the place.
Robbie chose Chris to do this thing where he had a rubber knife and
stabbed her in the chest and they had a tube that splattered heated
water onto the people watching this happen, so the observers thought it
was her blood splashing on them. They got a lot of
screams, while Ashley and I got more cuss words.
She put Gretchen and John together to jump out at people from a dark
corner, which was funny because John got punched
once. Larry and Tiffany were supposed to be
outside, urging people passing by to go in and be
scared. I found out later they were supposed to
give the rest of us breaks, but hid and made out instead. It
was fun, though, and the ones of us working didn't know the
difference. But the teams worked so well that we
decided to keep them the second night.
Which is how I got to kiss Ashley, and even cop a feel, because we were
in complete darkness, and nobody could see us.
The first night we had done a lot of giggling and bumping into each
other. One of us would keep watch, holding the other's hand,
and squeeze when it was time to pull the lever. So the second
night we just started off again the same way. Then there was
this long pause, during which nobody came through. She said
she was going to get us something to drink and took off. Now remember. It was really dark. I mean where I was, back by the tank and handle, all I could see was her outline when she got back. I saw her extend her hand, and I reached to take the drink she'd brought me. Then she took my other hand, like she was ready to warn me the next time somebody came along.
Her hand felt colder than it had, but I just chalked it up to her
carrying the drink. We had a run of people, and then another
bit of slack time, but she kept holding my hand anyway.
Then, for no reason at all, she backed up against me and put my hands
around her, on top of her stomach, with her hands on top of mine, and
leaned her head back on my shoulder. Her hair smelled
wonderful and I kind of nuzzled it a little bit, I guess, just trying
to smell it some more. I started getting a boner, but there
wasn't anything I could do about it because she was pressed against me,
and I had a wall behind me.
We heard somebody coming, and she moved forward, holding my hand
again. She squeezed and I blasted and we got three shrieks
from some girls, who ran on. Ashley backed up against me
again and this time my hands went around her waist without her
help. She turned her face toward me and I guess I got brave,
or stupid or something, because I felt for her lips with my own,
finally finding them. They were hot and soft and suddenly my
zombie jeans were way too tight. And then I got even more
stupid and slid my hands up onto her tits, which were just as fabulous
as I dreamed they would feel. She murmured into my mouth and
I about came right then and there, because not only did she not stop
me, she pushed her titties into my hands.
The kiss broke and I kind of sighed "Damn!"
"What's wrong?" she whispered.
"I never thought you'd let me do that," I whispered back.
Then we heard somebody else coming and had to blast them.
It was like that for another hour and a half. Every chance we
got we were kissing and groping each other. It evolved to the
point that she was running her hand over the lump in my jeans, and when
she did that, she'd tongue me. It's a wonder I didn't cum in
my pants. And I kept squeezing her tits. I got
brave enough to touch her ass, but I never tried to get between her
legs. I was having too much fun to chance that she'd stop me
and back off.
I figured it was almost time for our shift to end. I had a
button on my watch I could press and it lit up so I could see what time
Then she whispered that she'd be right back and fumbled off through the
black curtains that cordoned everything off from everything
else. I had to guess at when to blast people, but it didn't
seem to matter, because everybody screamed, whether I got them full on
or not. Finally she came back.
"Where have you been?" I asked, my voice low.
"I had to go to the bathroom," whispered Ashley. "Anyway, it's
time to go. Come on."
"One more kiss," I said.
"One more," she agreed.
But it was different.
She smelled different. She felt
different. She was a good kisser ... but she wasn't
the girl I had been kissing all that time before this.
I was a little confused as we left. That's because, while I was groping Ashley, I realized that the girl I had been groping wasn't Ashley, but that Ashley was letting me grope her.
See what I mean about being confused? It's confusing to even describe it. And Ashley even moaned into my mouth. Her titties were just as soft and squishy as the ones I'd been fondling for an hour before that. And she gave me tongue too! I mean I should have been delirious. Two girls had let me make out with them!
But all I could think about was who the first one was. And the fact that Ashley had been in on that. She had started the night with me. I knew that. Then, when she went to get a drink, the mystery girl had taken her place. She had to have known that. And, up to that point in time, Ashley had neither kissed me nor let me grop her. The mystery girl had made out with me in spades, and then gone off and switched with Ashley again, who then came back and, voluntarily, kissed me and let me grope her too. Which meant that she had talked to the mystery girl, who had told her about being kissed and groped. So who was they mystery girl. She had to be one of the girls doing the work. And, to me, that meant it had to be either Tiffany or Gretchen. But that didn't make sense. Tiffany was just as
mean to me as my sister, and I hardly knew Gretchen. She was
in Astronomy Club with Robbie, but didn't hang out at our house
much. And Tiffany was a slut. She was hanging all
over Larry as we went out of the Y. But then Ashley was still
holding my hand too. It was very confusing.
We had school the next day, so we all went home. Robbie was
driving our car.
"Something weird happened tonight," I said.
"Ashley let me make out with her."
I knew something was up then, because she didn't sound like my sister
at all. The Robbie I knew would have had some scathing
comeback about how I was a pervert and should leave her friends alone.
"She let me touch her tits," I said, pushing the envelope for some
"I can't believe that," she said, looking straight ahead.
I got this funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't
Ashley. That first girl, I mean. Because Ashley had
been different than the first girl. I knew that down deep
inside. And I just couldn't believe Gretchen would let me do
all that, never having even spent more than ten minutes with
me. And Tiffany is taller than any of the rest of them, and
she was all over Larry.
And all that left was Robbie.
Which was just insane on more levels than I could even begin to count.
"It was you!" I blurted, too full of whatever was inside me to keep it
She looked over at me, real quick like, and then back at the road.
"Don't freak out," she said, a little breathlessly.
"Don't freak out?" I barely had enough air to say that
myself. There was a lot of breathlessness in the car.
"I can explain," she said.
This was just too weird for me. She was being so calm about
it! It was like my twin sister had turned out to be a little
green man ... or woman ... from Mars all this time, and had climbed out
of my sister's body, all green and glowing or something, and said "Hey,
no problem. I can explain."
"Stop!" I shouted.
"No, Bobby!" she yelled back.
"I can't breathe!" I gasped.
"You can't hate me!" she squealed.
You know those primal screams you hear about? They're
supposed to be good for you, and they allow catharsis and all that
stuff? Well, it turns out they're right, because I let out a
doozy of one and Robbie about had a heart attack and pulled over so
fast she got up on Mrs. Finch's lawn. Well it was the part
between the sidewalk and the street, but Dennis Finch, her son, has to
mow it, so it's theirs.
Anyway Robbie started bawling and babbling about how she'd fucked
everything up and how I fucking hated her and how I would always
fucking hate her, and what a stupid fuck she was. I mean
every third word out of her mouth was the F bomb, which is what got my
attention after that primal scream kind of cleaned my head out a little
bit. That's because I had never heard Robbie even say "damn"
much less use the F word. So that's when I knew she was
freaked out, which made me feel better about being freaked out.
I know that doesn't make sense, but that's what happened.
Anyway, eventually she ran out of ways to work "fuck" into the
sentence, and it got really quiet inside the car. But we were
both so freaked out that we just sat there, parked halfway on the
street and halfway into the Finch's yard. I heard a thump as
her foot slipped off the brake and the car started forward
again. Then we jerked to a stop as she put her foot back on
the brake. I expected faces to start peering into the car any
second, and that cops would come swarming in with lights whirling and
sirens wailing, and I was suddenly almost overwhelmed by embarrassment.
"Go park somewhere!" I yelled.
"Okay!" she yelled back, like I was half a mile away.
She farmed the Finch's yard with the rear wheel that was on the grass
before we thumped down onto the pavement again, whereupon there was a
screech of tires I'd have been proud of if it had been under other
circumstances. She drove a couple of blocks to a
Kwick Stop and pulled into a parking space on one side, away from the
gas pumps. She put the car in park, but didn't turn it
off. She was shaking like a leaf, and tears were running down
For some reason, seeing her that worked up made me scared. I
had this feeling that we were right on the edge of some cliff, and that
if we stepped the wrong way, we would be as good as dead, because
something that connected us would be forever broken. I
remembered how she was crying that I would hate her forever.
"I don't hate you!" I blurted out.
She looked over at me, misery all over her face.
"Yeah, right," she said, sounding hopeless.
We had argued about things for years. Why would that suddenly
"I don't!" I insisted.
"Yes you do," she said, but she didn't sound so hopeless any more.
"Robbie, I don't fucking hate you!" I yelled.
"Language," she said automatically.
"Like you have any room to talk," I said.
Trying to explain how I felt during this whole thing is almost
impossible. I think that's because I don't think I knew how
to feel ... or what to think ... or something. But I do know
that when I started arguing with her about whether I hated her or not,
and she started acting more like the Robbie I knew so well, I felt
better somehow, like we were edging away from that cliff. And
I think that's why I kept on going in the same sort of way.
"You said fuck so many times back there I couldn't count them all," I
Robbie was always the more practical of the two of us. Maybe
that's why she was the leader. She ignored my attack and
turned in her seat to face me with one knee drawn up on the seat.
"What are we going to do, Bobby?" she asked, getting right to the nitty
gritty of the situation.
My embarrassment was back.
"About what?" I hedged.
She snorted. "You know about what," she insisted.
My sister has always been able to drag me, kicking and screaming, onto
the practical side of things when she really wants to. I knew
we were going to talk about this, whether I wanted to or not.
So I got practical too.
"You said you could explain," I said, knocking the ball squarely into
A sudden thought occurred to me. What if, in the dark, she
didn't know it was me either? Then I thought of all the times
I'd talked. She had never said anything in a voice above a
whisper, but I had talked out loud several times. She had to
have known it was me.
"I was curious," she said, tentatively.
"If you were curious, John's been chasing you for years. And
I'm sure that either Chris or Larry would have been happy to help you
"No, not that. What I meant was I was curious about what you'd do."
"Huh? What does that mean?" I was confused, and I
think it sounded that way.
"If you'll just shut up for a minute and let me talk, I'll tell you!"
"Okay, okay," I said, leaning back against the seat.
She took a deep breath and my eyes were drawn to her breasts as they
pushed the T shirt out. I couldn't believe I had mauled those
breasts. My mind provided an almost electric memory of how
they felt, and I suddenly felt like I was trying to get away with
something I knew I'd get in trouble for.
"Remember when you said you were a virgin?" she asked, apparently
forgetting that she'd just told me to shut up. I
nodded. "I didn't get that," she said. "I mean
you've always been so good with the girls. All the girls like
you. It used to make me mad, because I thought my friends
were only my friends because they wanted to be around you, so they made
friends with me. You know what I mean?"
I wanted to laugh at that one. I'd tried all kinds of things
with her friends, and gotten slapped down every time. True,
the girls didn't stop talking to me, but they just never let me get
away with copping a feel, or make out with me. I always
blamed it on Robbie. It turned out that was true, but not for
the reasons I was thinking about.
"You didn't need to worry about that," I said.
“Other than tonight, none of them has ever let me touch them."
"I know," she said. "They promised they wouldn't."
"Thanks a lot," I said.
"You think I told them not to," she said.
"That wasn't it at all," she said. “We just all
knew that if any of them went with you, you'd break up eventually and
then things would get awkward. So we all agreed you were off
limits, because our friendship was more important." She
shrugged her shoulders and my eyes caught the bounce of those
breasts. "Besides," she went on, "you were always talking to
girls and flirting with them. I thought you were doing all
kinds of things with them until you told me you were a virgin."
"OK, so what?" I said.
"So I never fooled around with any guys. I was always scared
I'd do something wrong, or act stupid or say the wrong thing and they'd
laugh at me. Besides, a girl can get a reputation if she lets
guys go too far. And I was disgusted that you got to mess
around and have all that fun."
"I still don't get why you ... you know," I said, unable to say out
loud what she'd let me do.
"I wanted to see what you'd do. I wanted to know if you were
telling the truth about being a virgin. And I wanted to see
what it was like to do some of those things. I only meant to
let you cop a feel and maybe kiss me a couple of times, and then I was
going to go to the bathroom and send Ashley back in my place.
She's always talked about how cute you are and all that
stuff. And I figured that once I figured out whether you were
telling the truth or not, then she could have her fun and you'd owe
me. Or something like that." She sounded confused.
"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard," I said, without thinking.
"I knoooooow," she moaned, covering her face with both hands.
We sat there in silence for a minute or so.
"So what did you decide?" I asked. "About whether or not I'm
a virgin, I mean."
"I don't know," she said softly. "I got all confused."
"How could you get confused?" I asked. "All we did was fool
around." I slapped my forehead with one palm. "I
can't believe I just said that. My sister and I fooled
around! This is crazy!"
"That's what I mean," she said. "At first it was
scary. But you didn't act like I thought you would.
You didn't just grab me. You were gentle. It was
like you cared how I felt." She frowned. "How
Ashley felt, I mean. I've seen you look at her.
I've seen you look at all my friends. Sometimes you look like
some kind of wolf or something. And I figured you'd start
grabbing me and all that, and I was going to yell at you for trying to
abuse one of my friends." She slumped. "Or
something. I don't know what I was thinking. Except you
didn't act like an animal at all. It felt nice. It
felt better than nice. I liked it!"
Now you guys out there will understand this. I don't know
about the women. But when a man pays attention to a woman ...
intimate attention ... and she says she liked it ... that twangs
something deep in the brain that you can't really concentrate
on. It just makes you feel like a man or something, like
you're on top of the heap. Even if it's your sister who says
it. And you want more validation for what you want to think
of as your sexual skills. Which explains why I asked the next
"All of it, Bobby! That's why I didn't leave when I was
"Oh," I said. I had been validated. I felt
great. I was attractive to women. Then I realized I
had been validated by and was attractive to the one woman in the world
I couldn't have. So it didn't mean
anything. And you guys will understand this too:
You try to salvage what you can from a tough
situation. "So," I went on. "Did Ashley
say anything about liking what we did too?"
How the heck was I supposed to know that would hurt Robbie's feelings?
Next Chapter >>