Double Time
Chapter 49
“I walked into adventure and adventure has given me blisters.”
—Andrea K. Höst, Stray
“WAIT. SO, YOU GOT IN A CAR with this woman you’ve been working out with for two weeks, she drove you to a church out in the country someplace, and you ran a 5k cross country race? And Coach Jock was there to run, too, and enlisted you to run cross country on the school team. Have I got it right?” Rachel asked. We were just lazing in her living room with Richard and Pey watching movies. Mom was making sure I was ‘occupied’ during the time before school so I didn’t get in trouble. Rachel was in the same boat with Richard so we decided to just do our babysitting together.
“That’s pretty much it. Em and I saw Nanette running at the same time as us a lot. It wasn’t like she was a total stranger. Besides, even though we hardly knew each other, she was one of my physical therapists at the hospital. She’s a great runner and placed first in her age group at the race. She’s been giving me pointers and helping me get my running on track.”
“And she’s cute? She’s the first person outside our little group that I’ve heard you so enthusiastic about. Are you going to bring her home to meet the girlfriends?” Rachel asked as she punched me in the shoulder.
“It’s not like that. She’d never give me a second look. She’s… older. I mean, she’s cute in that forty-year-old way and I like her a lot. But you don’t need to be concerned about any inappropriate behavior. Really, she’s in the same class as…”
“As…?” Rachel prodded.
“Well, there are other attractive older ladies that I like a lot. None of them would ever give me a second glance,” I said. Besides, I was happy just being with Rachel and in a week, Desi would be home for a week and then Joan. And I had dance lessons with Brittany this week. And… And I just wasn’t going to tell anyone about how attracted I was to older women. Most girls my own age—my physical V3 age—I still thought of as little children. I’d just suspended my guilt in the case of one. Or four.
“Who?”
“Really? Well, Ms. Levy, for example.”
“Hell, yes! I want to be with you!”
“Rachel! Are you serious?”
“I know we have to be really careful about that stuff. Until we’re eighteen and out of school, we have to keep the relationship strictly professional, but you could make sure she knows we’re interested. You know. Put it in a story she’s editing for you,” Rachel said.
“Wow. Um… Wow.”
“Who else?”
“Oh. Uh, you know there are some people who I see and feel like I already know them. It’s weird. Like they were part of some alternate past I had. It’s really weird.”
“Who?”
“Brittany’s Aunt Sophie. She likes to dance and she’s hot.”
“You’re going to Brittany’s for another lesson this week, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Watch her closely. Is she signaling anything other than teaching you to dance? She’s hot? Like Brittany?”
“Well, Brittany is really cute, but she’s also really young, and she’s a quarter Latina. Sophie is half Latina—Brittany’s mother’s sister. And yeah. Maybe it’s just the dancing, but she turns me on,” I admitted.
“Don’t pass up opportunities, Jacob. When possible, loop us in. You know, your girlfriends like to play.”
“Does that go for you, too? You won’t be passing up opportunities?” I asked. My heartrate accelerated like I was ready to defend my territory. Rachel was mine. No one else’s.
“Jacob? Honey, don’t make up things that have no basis. You know how much all the girls like to play with each other. Other guys? Not right now. When I’m all the way across the country in National Service? Who knows? That’s why we all want to be accepting of each other and the kind of relationships that develop. We want to be able to come back together.”
“I know,” I sighed. “I’m sorry I get jealous. I’m just so much in love with you…”
“See? That’s what I mean. This summer, I’m all you’ve had. You need to be occupied by some of our girlfriends and maybe others so you aren’t obsessed with any one of us. You know Desi will be back next week and want time with you. And Joan gets back the following weekend. Remember Joan’s sensitive nipples and clean-shaved pussy? I can almost smell her all the way from Chicago.”
“Rachel, you drive me crazy. Totally, stark raving mad. I love you.”
“I love you, Jacob.”
Wednesday evening, Mom, Dad, Pey, and I went to the Adams’s house for dinner and dancing. I guess Brittany’s family was used to entertaining. Their table extended far enough to accommodate all eleven of us with no difficulty and they just pushed all the furniture in the living room and dining room back against the walls when it was time for our dancing instruction.
Sophie was our teacher and had everyone, including her mother, lined up to show us steps. We worked on waltz first since the official Quince dance was a waltz. Joan and I had done some waltzing in our dance lessons, but we didn’t really have much opportunity to use the step at prom. Sill, V1 had taken ballroom dancing and, while rusty, I could comprehend all the instructions. A lot of the moves in a fancy waltz are similar to the moves in salsa dancing—like spins and turns. For that matter, I guess we used some of the same positions in swing dancing. The rhythms are different, though. Waltz is a three-beat even rhythm that stays the same with equal time spent on each foot. Salsa is a four-beat rhythm in which you step to three beats and then rest one. Suffice it to say, there was more than enough to keep us learning for a full two hours.
And then to rotate through partners and dance for another hour. I had to laugh at Dad getting a workout alongside Gomez. I really needed to find out Brittany’s dad’s real name. If I actually called him Gomez, he might get insulted.
Eventually, after dancing with Brittany, Lisa, Joyce, and Pey, I found myself with Sophie in my arms for some real salsa dancing. There are twenty-one forms or moves in salsa dancing and twelve more that are unique to Cuban salsa. The Sophie of V1’s timeframe taught him all thirty-three. And about fifty that we practiced only when horizontal and naked. This Sophie was significantly younger than her sister, Brittany’s mother. I figured in about her early thirties. Mr. and Mrs. Adams were closer to my parents’ age, just over forty. And when Sophie came into my arms, her eyes locked on mine. The intensity of their black depths held me mesmerized. The music started and there was nothing else in the room but my dancing partner. Anything I tried, she followed. Any subtle shift in her posture let me know what she was expecting next and I could lead her effortlessly. We ended the dance in a dip. I held her low, bending over her, our eyes having never broken contact.
“Brittany, you must come and dance a Cuban salsa with Jacob now. Did you notice? The secret was the connection. Let everything else in the room fade away but the music and your partner. Stay focused on him,” Sophie said. She must have realized she was still holding my hand and gave it a quick squeeze before pulling away. Hmm. Was that the kind of signal Rache was telling me to watch for? The signal in my slacks was pretty definite. Even Brittany noticed when she slid into my arms. Her eyes popped wide open and her breast heaved as I looked into her dark brown eyes and winked.
Pey was convinced that she could teach Richard salsa dancing and got frustrated that he wasn’t picking it up fast enough for her satisfaction.
“J! Help me. I want to dance.”
“Got you hooked last night, didn’t they?” I laughed. I’d been holding Rachel in my arms and showing her a few moves, too. “Okay. We’ll have a dance lesson. You guys game?” There was a general assent. “We start the same way you did, Pey. Fundamental waltz steps, just like last night. You can’t expect your partner to know everything you know the first time he tries to dance with you.” Pey huffed a little about having to start over but soon got into the rhythm, so to speak, and we had a good time. Rachel was surprised to find I had a complete selection of Strauss Waltzes on my iPhone playlist and that I could switch to some big band era waltzes as well. There was a subtle difference between the fast formal royal waltzes of Strauss and the slower big band ballroom dances, but we enjoyed them both.
“Now can we do salsa?” Pey begged.
“I think we should save salsa dancing for the next lesson. Aren’t you tired yet? We’ll do salsa steps tomorrow,” I said, flopping in a chair.
“Uh… not tomorrow,” Rachel said. “Big surprise tomorrow.” I looked at her and she held a finger to her lips. I maneuvered Pey and Richard outside with the lure of my quadcopter. As soon as they had it in the air and were taking remote selfies, I slipped back inside to have a little kiss with Rachel.
“What’s going on tomorrow?” I asked.
“Our mothers have been talking,” she giggled. “It seems our activities are not unknown to the parental units.” I jumped a little.
“You mean they know we are lovers?”
“We haven’t been that subtle about it,” she said. “Anyway, Mom is taking the afternoon off tomorrow and will take Pey and Richard to the waterpark. We can start our Friday night date at about one-thirty. In my bed.”
“I love you, Rachel. I was beginning to wonder if the parents were going to conspire to keep us chaperoned every second for the rest of the summer.”
“Mom expects us to act responsibly,” Rache said. “You’re on birth control, aren’t you?”
“Oh. Yeah. I got that implant thing when Em got hers.”
“I’m on birth control, too. I think that’s responsible. Jacob, I want you!”
“Oh, yes!” I kissed her with passion and heard an unmistakable click of a camera. We looked up to see the drone hovering just outside the door, focused on us. “Well, maybe not too responsibly,” I sighed.
We made love. We waited twenty minutes after Mrs. Evans took Pey and Richard to the waterpark. We held hands and talked about school registration, which would be next week. It would be August and summer was almost over.
We made love.
“Jacob, Joan will be back in town tomorrow.”
“Oh, yeah.” I stroked her skin, basking in the afterglow of a vigorous coupling. Touching her nipples and her navel and the hollow of her pelvis. Looking at the matted hair between her legs and plucking at it gently, fluffing it out from where it had been pressed down between us. Still loving her.
“Jacob? You know what that means, right?”
“What what means?”
“That Joan is back in town.”
I sighed. It meant that Rachel could no longer be my exclusive focus unless I broke up with our other four girlfriends. And that would mean heartbreak for all of us. And Rachel and I wouldn’t last through that kind of emotional shitstorm. Besides, deep down, I didn’t want to break up with anyone. I wanted to see Joan—something I didn’t think I’d ever say the first time I saw her. I wanted to see Desi, who would also be home Sunday night. And Beca. I felt my heart jump a bit when I thought of her. Of course, I had another dancing lesson with Brittany coming up and her party in just two weeks. I wanted it all. It’s just that I was so perfectly satisfied with where I was now.
“Maybe I’ll call Martin and go mess around with him.”
“What?”
“Is that what it takes to get your attention?”
“You had my attention.”
“I love the kind of attention you are giving me, Jacob. Truly. But I need you to pay attention to what I’m saying.”
“I’m sorry, Rachel. I’ve been trying to ignore the fact that I’m going to have to split my time and not spend as much with you. And it’s not that I don’t love Joan or Desi or Beca or even Brittany. I do. It’s just so wonderful to only have you—to devote myself to you and to dream about forever. I suppose Joan will get to town tomorrow and immediately want to go out and probably to fuck. How’s that supposed to make me feel? Excited? Hell, yes. I’m fifteen years old and Joan has one of the slickest, hottest pussies I’ve ever known. And besides, I like her. She’s smart and funny. I want to date her and make love with her. I just don’t want to lose you, Rachel. I don’t want our relationship to suffer.”
“It won’t suffer because of Joan, Jacob. I’ve got news for you. When you go off to see Desi the next night, I’m going off with Joan. And I mean going off literally. Maybe it’s a different world than our grandparents knew, but it’s our world and we can make it what we want.”
28 July 2019
I’m not fast at a lot of things. Running cross country is just one of them. I met Jock and about twenty others at the track Saturday morning at nine, ready to have a nice run. Fuck no. Jock had a whole regimen of exercises and short runs he wanted us to do. Almost everyone was better at everything than I was. Including the girls.
That was another surprise. Cross country practice runs girls and boys together. We don’t race together. There are separate races by gender, just as the race I went to last week had separate age categories. But we all train together and there is just one coach and a couple of assistants. I felt bad for the girls because there were fifty of them competing for seven race slots while there were half that many boys. Most CC races allowed seven runners on a team, even though only the points of the first five were counted for the team. I guess high school boys were more into team sports like football and basketball than cross country. In the spring, track gathers a pretty good team, but even though individuals compete in their events, there are a lot of team events, too. That’s my assessment. For what it’s worth.
When we finally got to the point where we ran eight laps on the track, I was past my peak for exercise. I was faster than two of the girls who ran the two miles. Everyone else was ahead of me. Jock told us not to worry about places and speed yet. He was keeping everyone on the team and would rotate runners. I guess there will be some races in which we’ll all run.
Another thing I’m not fast at is Joan. And it turned out that was good.
“Mother, of course, wants to spend time with her daughter,” Joan said as we sat outside. She’d come over about three in the afternoon and we just went into the back yard. We had a porch swing on the back deck and we sat next to each other, just drifting back and forth, holding hands. “And it’s not like I don’t want to spend time with Mom. You only see the cougar side of her. She’s really a kind and loving parent. Especially when we’ve been separated for the summer. I just have so many things I feel I’ve missed this summer. I’ve missed you, Jacob. I’ve missed Rachel and Desi and even Brittany. And I’ve missed Beca. Really a lot. I wish she was home now.”
“It wouldn’t have helped much to be here with Rachel and me,” I volunteered. “Summer school was a bitch. Desi and Beca are still gone. We haven’t seen much of Brittany except my two dancing lessons with her family. I bet you did lots more exciting things in Chicago than we did here.”
“Like making love?” she sighed.
“We’ve had precious little of that. But I’m glad you are back.”
“Do you want to make love with me?” Joan asked. “Still?”
“Yes, sweetheart. But we don’t need to rush into it. I want to hear more about your summer in the city. I feel like we didn’t have a summer here at all, so I want to hear all about yours.”
“You mean that, don’t you? You really want to talk and not just get me naked. I love you, Jacob. I was… sort of afraid. Afraid that all you really saw me for was sex. Beca told me I was being stupid, but still… I’ve missed talking to you.”
She told me all about her time at the College of Arts, refining her computer graphic skills. She showed me half a dozen different websites she’d designed. Her father had grilled her about her ‘boyfriend’ and had been shocked to find she had four girlfriends, too. He’d taken her to Cindy’s Restaurant on the roof of the Chicago Athletic Association and talked for hours while they looked out over Millennium Park and Lake Michigan. She felt like she’d been grilled and served for dinner, but also like her father really cared and was concerned about her.
“I followed up three weeks later,” she giggled. “Took Dad to Beatnik On The River. It’s a cool restaurant with a Bohemian atmosphere, a little less formal than Cindy’s. I prepared for two weeks with a list of questions for my father and it was my turn to get to know him better. I’d asked before why he left us, so I tried to focus on things that would let me know more about him as a person instead of him as my father. Like what kind of music did he like and could he dance. That kind of thing. It was really hard being away all summer, but I still felt like it was the best summer in Chicago I’ve had.”
“That’s great. You know, we should all learn to know our parents better, I think. I make a lot of assumptions about mine. Dad has surprised me a couple of times this spring. I should take him out to dinner.”
“He wants to meet you.”
“My dad?”
“No. Mine. My father wants to meet the boy I fell in love with. And the girl. He wants to meet Beca, too.”
“Oh, wow.” I had visions of a parental interrogation. Rachel’s parents, and even her little brother, had integrated with my family effortlessly. They’d even arranged to be away while Rachel and I ‘acted responsibly.’ Desi’s parents had been complicit in leaving us alone together, even while we were changing costumes. Brittany’s parents were active participants with my family in teaching me both how to dance and how they expected me to treat their daughter. Beca’s mother—she was always cordial and welcoming, but also on guard against anything that might damage her daughter. I wondered how she felt about Joan. Well, I guessed getting to know Joan’s father wouldn’t be a bad thing. Entirely.
We kissed a little while we talked but never really made out or petted. We’d be getting together again on Sunday when she’d had a chance to spend time with her mom.
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