Alistaire Ch. 01: Carrie Croenke

This meant that I spent half an hour fretting over which of the two nice shirts I owned that I should wear for my 'date' with Carrie. This approximately doubled the amount of time I had spent actively worrying about what to wear since Christmas. I finally took a deep breath, and went for my wildly colored and patterned Robert Graham shirt, the one with the contrasting cuffs. I call it my 'brave shirt' because I could never believe I'd found the guts to buy it. When you are a bit of a wallflower like me, it takes an effort to wear a shirt that screams 'look at me!' like that shirt does. I felt I was going to need all the bravery I could get that evening, so I ran with the shirt.

I took two showers, because I was fully aware that the Al that Carrie probably remembered from eight grade had not listed personal hygiene among his strengths...

I pulled up at her house and padded toward the front door, my heart racing. As I rang the bell, Carrie yanked the door open in seconds. "He's here," she called over her shoulder. "Love you, Mom! Dad! I'll be home on time." She turned to me and pushed out the door. "Let's go," she said with a smile. We hustled down the pathway to the Mercedes at the curb.

"Hiding me from your parents?" I asked dubiously.

"No," Carrie said reassuringly. Then she paused and added, "But yes." Before I had a chance to be hurt (much) at this strange slight, she went on. "My parents are just kind of mad at you. My little brother had never heard of boarding school before I came home and told everybody about our date. Now the squirt thinks it is the greatest idea on the planet. He has spent the last two days on the internet, burying my parents in printouts of articles and blowing up their phones with links to schools." She laughed. "My dad says you are going to bankrupt him, and Mom says you are going to take away her little boy."

I held the door for her, and she got in after a little smirk at the gesture. I went around and got in behind the wheel. "To tell the truth, my parents are really both fine with you," Carrie went on as I pulled away. "They just like to exaggerate everything. But I did have to get out of the house before Kimball, the squirt himself, realized you that were there and came downstairs. We'd have never gotten to leave if he started asking questions."

I shrugged. "Just tell him to call me. I'll give him the straight poop, good and bad."

"You don't mind having your ear talked off by a twelve year old?" Carrie asked dubiously.

I just shrugged again. "Sure. It's actually an interesting subject."

"Thanks," she said softly.

For dinner, I had decided to take her to a nice, locally-owned, Italian place called Westside Mario's. It is a little nicer than the various places in town that my buddies said they or their friends had taken girls on dates before. I'd agonized over this decision too, of course. But it seemed to go over well with Carrie.

"Mario's? Nice," she said as we approached the valet. We got out and strolled into the restaurant. The hostess was a girl our age, and of course she knew Carrie. Carrie introduced me briefly, and the two of them chatted about nothing as we headed to our table. The hostess looked good in her tight black slacks and black button down dress shirt. Under ordinary circumstances I'd have been a shy mess, trying to check her out without being caught.

With Carrie beside me, I never even stole a glance. Well... not more than one.

But oh man, did I have trouble not just staring at Carrie. She wore a simple red dress, bare-shouldered except for spaghetti straps, and about mid-thigh in length. It was the sort of effortlessly simple garment that really good-looking people wear, and look better in than the rest of us ever do, even after a day's worth of effort. Actually, it was a pretty fancy dress for a casual Sunday date, but I sure as hell enjoyed the result. There was no cleavage on display, but the fitted fabric highlighted the high, firm, and probably bra-less, shape of her breasts. Like every other curve on her body, they were luxurious, without being extravagant.

Carrie had put a gentle wave into her long blonde hair and it flowed around her lovely face, with its high cheekbones, wide hazel eyes, pouty lips, and rounded nose. When I had first helped her into the car, I had caught a lovely perfume, applied with perfect restraint.

I had honestly expected dinner to be awkward and weird, leaving us both eager for the enforced quiet of the movie theater, but we actually had a good time. We talked about people I used to know, including a girl that had once been a minor crush of mine who had almost died in a car accident, and a guy who had been a friend in elementary school who had gotten arrested for shoplifting. I told Carrie about what an alien planet Connecticut was.

The food was good. Carrie liked hers, but I could not tell you what the heck I even ordered. I was discovering that a great thing about these 'dates' were that they gave you pretty much carte blanche to openly look at a pretty girl, essentially non-stop.

Bravo, whoever invented the date.

On those occasions where I did look away from Carrie, I thought I could see that people looked at me a bit differently than I was used to. First of all, people looked at me at all. That was... different. Some of them looked at me as if to ask what that unsightly growth was that had developed on this beautiful girl. But a lot of them looked at me with some... respect?

When the time for the movie approached, I paid the tab. Carrie quietly said, "Thanks," when I did it, as if she hadn't expected the gesture and simply appreciated it. As we walked out to the car, I felt like my arms were flopping around like a baby's uncontrolled flailing. Was I supposed to hold her hand? Her arm? Should I put an arm around her, or rest my hand on the small of her back? I didn't know. And besides, this was a 'look people, Carrie can date' kind of situation.

I just kind of fluttered along beside her, gesturing aimlessly. Every time I thought I was getting a handle on what I was doing that evening, I seemed to hit a new area of uncertainty.

When we got to the theater, Carrie stepped in front of me and bought our tickets before I could. She handed me one and smiled. "I can't let you pay for everything," she laughed. "This isn't the Twentieth Century."

I still bought the popcorn and sodas...

At the kiosk, Carrie had selected seats in the next to last row, off to the left side. The theater was only about half full, which on opening weekend did not bode well for the financial success of the film. Still, it was nice that nobody was sitting right near us. We whispered back and forth during the trailers, and it made me feel good that we were surprisingly aligned when it came to which coming attractions we thought looked promising.

The slasher flick that I had chosen was... serviceable. Production quality was high, for a horror film. The acting was alright. The story was totally formulaic.

The female nudity was copious and top notch. And for once that made me uncomfortable, instead of excited, what with Carrie sitting right next to me.

Still... top notch.

The scares and the violence were quite effective. And that is where things got interesting.

Carrie scared easily, and seemed to just eat up being terrified.

She grabbed my hand while the first victim was being stalked. She shrieked when the first fake out jump-scare came. And then when the samurai sword beheaded the first naked co-ed, she almost crushed my arm. I was afraid at first that she might be hating the gore and would want to leave, but in the aftermath, as the story returned to the other, still-unaware characters, she smiled at me in the dark. When the next couple got naked, the nudity included a full-length, fully naked shot of the dude. The actor apparently spent all his time lifting weights and drinking creatine. He certainly wasn't spending hours on acting class... But Carrie leaned over and whispered in my ear, "It's about time we girls get our share of skin in these movies!"

My dick twitched hard. It did so because...

One, as I said before, Top. Notch.

Two, Carrie was talking about sex, and appreciatively... to me.

Three, when she whispered to me, her lips almost brushed my ear, and I could feel her breath on my face.

When the second kills came, this time with no initial fake out, Carrie almost spilled our tub of popcorn when she grabbed me. Once my own initial heart rate spike subsided, I really liked this development. First, she had buried her face against my shoulder. More importantly, I felt brave enough to take a chance. I held the almost spilled tub and whispered, "Yikes! This is balanced precariously." I lifted the armrest between us up out of the way, letting the popcorn rest more stably on our seats instead, and not so incidentally getting the barrier between us out of the way.

If we had been characters in a movie ourselves, the confident guy would have taken the opportunity to put his arm around the girl at this point. But, see above: I'm not a player. Intentionally getting rid of that arm rest had been the most forward thing I'd done I my life.

After another quick kill, things had reached the permanent tension stage of the movie formula. The missing armrest suddenly became key, as Carrie actually slid closer to me, her hands gripping my hard, but meager biceps. Every time things got tense, she leaned in close, ready to hide her eyes in my shoulder.

Another top notch girl got top-less. She was already terrified of a mad killer on the loose, and she chooses to get naked? Gotta love horror movie logic. And then just like that, the girl on screen got head-less. It was a really good scare, though, and Carrie screamed out loud, grabbing my shoulders this time and burying her face in my chest. One of her breasts did not quite press itself against my hand, just my forearm, but I still thought I was going to die. Die happy.

I decided that this was the best movie ever made. I had been touched more by Carrie two-thirds of the way through this movie than I had been touched by pretty girls in my entire freaking life. And that brief press of firm boob-flesh against my arm had been heaven.

Carrie pulled away, suddenly a little self-conscious. "Sorry," she whispered.

I just shrugged broadly enough to be seen in the dark. "Don't worry about it. We are supposed to be scared, right? It's fun."

She smiled, though I could tell her heart was still beating fast. "It is," she replied quietly. Then, even though things were not very tense at the moment, she leaned over against me anyway. I studiously moved my hands down out of the way to my own legs. The last thing I wanted, if she leaned against me again was for her to think I was copping a feel!

Three of the remaining four characters all bought it in rapid succession, each more gruesomely and quickly than the last. Carrie, along with lots of others in the audience, was screaming again, and she flipped toward me and practically tackled me in my seat. Her face buried against my neck and I felt her heaving, panicky breath. This time, I felt both boobs rubbing against me. But thepiece de resistance was that she turned so hard against me that her far leg swung over and briefly draped across my own thigh—the thigh where I had stationed my hand in order to get it out of the way... Let's just say that I was instantly, acutely aware that Carrie was not wearing hosiery.

Her legs slid back off me swiftly, but she barely loosened her grip on me otherwise. The Last Girl was already being pursued, screaming like mad. I shifted in my seat in my own kind of panic. I did not, under any circumstances, want to dislodge Carrie in any way, but if she got any closer to me, she might well feel just how crazily, uncomfortably aroused I was at that moment.

Dislodging Carrie would have been impossible anyway. She clung tight to me, twisting her shoulders to watch the screen as the girl, who was also top notch, but tragically only scantily dressed instead of naked, alternated between escaping through luck or ingenuity, and then doing something stupid to let the killer close in on her again.

Carrie was tense as a spring as the killer closed in for the last time. I think I was saved from having her climb into my engorged lap because she noticed, as did I, the high voltage wire right behind the girl. They had telegraphed that element earlier in the movie, and we both knew what was going to happen. It took just enough tension out of us to save me from Carrie climbing onto my hard-on.

The girl ducked at the last second, and the killer's sword cut into the wire. Sparks. Flames. A guttural scream. Credits.

Carrie settled back into her seat with a smile I could see in the dark. She heaved a breath and said, "Wow, that was fun!" I certainly agreed, though most of my enthusiasm was reserved for events not on screen.

This had been the best date anyone had ever been on, I was sure. I certainly did not imagine me topping it in the future.

With a dumb smile on my face, I said, "Thanks Carrie. I really enjoyed this." I wanted to ask if she'd like to do it again, but come on. There is pushing your luck, and there is just outright standing in front of an oncoming train. She had finally gotten a date, even if with a nerd like me. We had been seen by people she knew, and Mary and Maddie would tell the planet, those gossips. She would get the invitations that she really wanted, now.

"It's too bad though," Carrie went on, her lips screwed up in an uneven frown.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, my parents are taking my family on a trip to Vail for Spring Break. We, uh, leave tomorrow."

"In what way," I asked with an easy snort, "does spring skiing in Colorado suck?"

"Oh. Um," she hesitated. "I just thought that if I were going to be here, we might have gone out again."

"Oh," I said. Aaaand I was panicking again. Who did this girl think I was? "Yeah, that would have been amazing," trying to sound like she hadn't lifted me up just to crush me even harder. "Maybe this summer?"

"Yeah. Maybe."

At this point, I just wanted to get away from her. I know that sounds crazy, but I needed to process all this. This amazing date, and this little coda at the end would need a lot of analyzing. And frankly, I needed to jack off something fierce. "Well, if you are leaving tomorrow, you probably need to pack. I guess I should take you home?"

Much as I felt the need to be alone, I still was already wistful that she was going to say yes.

"No, maybe not yet," Carrie surprised me. "I'm actually all packed." She heaved a deep breath, which drew my gaze inexorably, and then added quickly, "Let's go for a ride. I don't feel like going home and having Kimball give me the third degree about you."

I found that not being alone was suddenly pretty appealing after all. I pulled out of the parking space and said, "If he pesters you, just tell him to call me directly, like I said. You guys may not be in town, but I'll bet he has a cell."

"You really meant that about taking to him?"

"Sure," I said, brimming with sudden confidence. "What else do I have to do? The prett..." I choked myself off. I wasn't that confident.

"What?" Carrie asked at my suddenly swallowed words.

"Nothing."

"Come on. What?"

In a rush, I blurted, "I was going to say that the prettiest girl I know is not going to be around, so what else do I have to do?"

She actually blushed brightly enough for me to see in the dash lights. And then she smiled so brightly that I nearly drove into a ditch. That made me think fast and I covered for the slight swerve by moving on quickly. "So where do you want to drive? Cruise through downtown?"

Carrie seemed eager to change the subject from my foolhardiness as well. "I like this car."

"It's seven years old!" I laughed.

"It's a Benz," Carrie countered. "I'll bet it's fast."

Fast?

"A little," I said uncertainly. I happened to know that it was, in fact, quite fast.

"Show me!"

"Not downtown!"

"Duh. Nothing down there but traffic lights."

"Okay," I said, and turned at the intersection and headed outward instead of where I had intended. I was trembling at how fast I dared go. A ticket would not be appreciated by my parents. But the speed seemed very much appreciated by Carrie, whose desires, I found, made my parents' temporarily irrelevant.

I let the car go a little. Maybe more than a little.

A landmark flashed by the corner of my eye and I had an idea. I slowed to look for a certain turn, and saw Dellwood Road ahead on the left. It was a small farm road that ended up going mostly straight, way far out into the country. Not only would it be free of cops, it would be free of just about any cars at all. Farmers don't stay up late. I might really let the Benz show off for Carrie.

In less than a mile, we passed the last subdivision on the road and we were truly in the sticks. The moon was nearly full and it was really bright out for this late at night. Visibility was great. I took a breath and dropped the pedal.

Carrie whooped happily as the Mercedes leapt smoothly forward.

It was little exhilarating for me too, to be going on a night speed run—especially with a hot girl sitting excitedly beside me. It wasn't like I was hitting a hundred or anything, though. This was a narrow road, after all, and I didn't want to hit a deer or any...

A deer wandered out. Fortunately, it was way ahead of us, and I didn't even have to dynamite the brakes to slow down in time. It still scared both of us.

The damned animal just stared at us blearily, then wandered off the other side of the road. Before I could speed up again, another came out of the field, following. I came to a stop and we watched as seven in total crossed the road from a cotton field to a little turnout by a pond on the other side.

"I love deer," Carrie sighed. "They look so beautiful."

"They look delicious too," I joked.

She poked me in the ribs. "Meanie!"

My heart was still pumping a little hard, this time not from Carrie's proximity, but from the near encounter with that first deer. More speed was not what I needed for a moment. But I didn't want to look scared in front of Carrie. "Let's see where they went," I said, and steered into the turnout, dimming my headlights to just the parking bulbs. Carrie oohed her agreement.

The turnout lead about fifty yards off the road to a flat patch of grass by the small pond. There was a single oak by the edge, with a picnic table under it that had definitely seen better days. And halfway around the edge of the pond were all seven deer, just standing around in the open. They were close enough to still see clearly, but not so close as to be spooked.

"Look at them," Carrie breathed.

Curiously, I killed the engine and the lights entirely. I reached up and flipped the cabin light switch so we could silently get out of the car without the dome lights coming on.

I went and leaned against the front of the hood, hoping my heart would stop racing. Carrie slowly stepped over and leaned on the car as well, right next to me, eyes on the deer. With the silver moonlight on the placid pond and the unconcerned deer only a hundred yards away, it would have been an incredibly beautiful night even without the vision in a red dress leaning next to me.

"Good idea to turn in and get a look," Carrie whispered.

"I can't believe they stuck around where we could watch them," I replied, my eyes still on the deer. Mostly.

"Still... thanks," Carrie said. I could not help but turn my face toward her when I saw that smile out of the corner of my eye.

She kissed me.

It wasn't some deep, long thing. Just a peck, in fact. But it was square on the lips.

My heart, which had finally stopped pounding from the near encounter with the deer, was back to racing.