College Chronicles Ep. 15 Pt. 01

Instead, I dropped most of the bags and cases, keeping only mine and one of Cindy's as I padded up the narrow flight of stairs that I knew so well. My goal was just around the corner, and the door glided open like it had the many other times I'd taken the same journey.

My room, home within home, sanctuary from everything and everyone. Posters for movies, bands, and comic books covered the walls and ceiling; some were outdated and slightly embarrassing, but I knew Cindy would understand. I had cleaned before I left, and it looked like no one had even entered since; the bed was made, closet doors closed, and nothing scattered about on my floor or desk to evidence the hours and hours I'd spent puttering about within those four walls.

I considered doing a quick check; making sure there weren't any especially humiliating artifacts from childhood, that anything secret was hidden enough that it wouldn't be seen immediately. But I was keenly aware of Cindy downstairs with my mom, the looming specter of meeting my dad. I would have to risk Cindy's gentle mocking-- not the worst thing in the world.

Back downstairs, it was clear I didn't need to worry. Cindy was as charming and smooth with parents as she was frat boys, sorority girls, convenience store clerks, and drunk club-goers. As far as I could tell there hadn't even been an awkward break in conversation.

"...And I just want to thank you again Mrs. White, I really appreciate you letting me stay in your home for the holiday break."

"Oh please, call me Sophia. And it's our pleasure, especially for Sam's GIRLfriend! I don't know what he's told you but... you're the first..."

I caught the whispered comment right as I reentered and sat at the table next to Cindy, and they turned simultaneously to watch me with poorly hidden grins.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing honey!"

"Nothing."

They answered at the same time, mom dancing away with the same light energy as her response, Cindy staring with an all-out grin full of her special, playful malice.

"Daniel! I need you!"

My mom cried out the back door, summoning my father from his manly hobbies in the yard or garage. When she turned back, it was all business.

"Your brother is out, I told him to be back later though. It's still a little early for dinner... Do you want a snack? Did they serve you food on the plane?"

"No mom--"

"--Oh well you can have a little something! What about you Cindy, are you vegetarian? Or vegan or... Gluten free?"

Cindy laughed loudly, enjoying my mother's hosting efforts a little too much.

"No, none of that. And I'm not too hungry but... Sam has been raving about your Christmas cookies!"

I rolled my eyes. I had mentioned my mom's Christmas cookies maybe one time. But Cindy was doing that thing she did where she told lies about me that I couldn't deny, and good things happened. My mom grabbed the counter, as if shaken to her core.

"Sam's... been talking about my baking?"

"Yeah, all the time!"

Cindy was enthusiastic, and I began to wonder. Had I mentioned them more often than I thought? They were pretty good, a major part of my childhood... I'd stopped my enthusiasm after Max had ruined things, but...

"Samuel! You should have called! I would have sent you something!"

She almost skipped across the kitchen, and I noted that she was acting with much more youthful energy than I remembered. Had she started some new fad? Or maybe it was just Cindy, lending her endless fire to my mother as well as me.

Before I could wonder any more, the back door swung open and my dad came in, stooping to get through the door frame.

If I took after my mother, it was difficult to believe that I was even related to my father. We were almost polar opposites. Where I was small and thin, he was tall and broad; not fat, but thick with muscles and just a small hint of gut. Where I was shy and quiet, he was outgoing and gregarious, loud enough to fill a room with his booming laugh and famously self-aggrandizing stories. His hair was short cut and dark brown, and a slight smile wrinkled the corners of his mouth, like he wasn't done laughing at his own joke. My mother was bent over at the oven door, fetching her cookies, not looking up as he entered. He saw her bent over, and raised one hand high in the air, swinging with casual violence I recognized.

SLAP

"Oh! Daniel!"

My mother jumped and spun with an instant blush that was also too familiar. Cindy next to me noticed, and I purposefully ignored her thoughtful smile to my side, scared I would start blushing to match.

"What's going on, sexy?"

"Sam's home! And he's brought his GIRLfriend with him!"

My father turned slowly, not a hint of embarrassment from being caught in a supposedly private moment. Just another way we were opposite. His eyes slide over me with barely a wrinkle of acknowledgement, a soft grunt of recognition. But his eyes stopped when they found Cindy, and there were the telltale signs of surprise; open mouth, raised eyebrows, obvious scan of Cindy's body. After a second, my mom bumped into him as she bustled over to us with cookies in hand.

"Here you go! Come on Daniel, say hi to Sam's GIRLfriend!"

Then I did start to blush at her over-the-top emphasis on the word.

"Momm..."

My dad regained speech at the same time, and bowled over me with his confident voice.

"You're-- I mean, hello, welcome!"

Then he grinned, and was back to himself.

"You're a real heartbreaker! Sam got lucky, huh?"

Cindy giggled, and an ugly emotion reared its head deep inside of me. I shoved it down where it came from as she responded.

"I dunno, I think I'm the lucky one! I'm Cindy, nice to meet you Mr. White!"

"Mr. White is my father. Call me Dan. So how in the hell did Sam get a girl like you?!"

I rolled my eyes at the backhanded compliment, but it didn't really matter as I became background to the conversation. Cindy began telling an entirely fabricated (as far as I could tell, on the spot) story about us meeting at a frat party. Evidently I had stepped in between her and a too-pushy guy, only to be rewarded with a punch to the face. While repaying my sacrifice, she had fallen for my gentleness, and the rest was history, as she told it.

My dad and mom laughed at her story, had lots of follow-up questions; but Cindy was equal to them, ad-libbing my heroics and our connection until I couldn't tell what was truth or fiction. When she'd delved into enough detail, the topic swung fully to her. Where was she from? Who was her family? What did they do? What was she studying at college? What was she going to do after? And on and on; my parents were enthralled, delving into the mystery that was someone who could date their son.

Maybe I should have been annoyed, returning after three and change months to such little fanfare, or fanfare misdirected. But I was never much for attention, and Cindy fed off it, thrived on the adoration. Plus she never let me totally fade away, always calling me back into conversation with little comments and compliments. My mom would smile and give me proud looks while my father still barely saw me, fully under Cindy's spell.

I couldn't think about the ugly feeling that returned. She couldn't. She wouldn't. I knew it.

Cindy and my parents talked and talked, with occasional input on my part. Conversation turned from Cindy to my parents, what they did, our family, our Christmas traditions. Then the windows were dark, and my mother had just stood up to begin preparing food when there was a noise from the front door.

The first was telltale jangling of keys, then slight mutters of conversation between two hushed voices. When a step on the staircase creaked, my mother called out through the house.

"Scott? Come in here, please!"

The creaks on the steps froze. There was a shuffling noise, a few more muttered words, one voice distinctly female. Then a single word came back, in a deeper tone.

"Why?"

"Come here NOW!"

My father took up the call, never patient with disobedience, and the steel in his tone made me jump in my chair. It also worked on my brother, who slunk into the room as his date scampered up the stairs.

Scott took after my father as much as I did my mother, physically. He was tall, long-limbed with muscles that implied strength he hadn't really grown into yet. His lanky hair and somewhat grungy aesthetic belied the culture clash against my father, who would have preferred he be much preppier and athletic. But my brother had a musician's soul-- in that he loved drugs and girls. We had never been very close, with few connecting interests, even though we were only two years apart. He had always had tons of friends and rotation of girlfriends; when he had began attending my highschool as a freshman, he was already higher on the social ladder than I was as a junior.

"Oh, hey Sa--WOW, who are you?"

He had noticed me as he stepped closer, but only for a second before his eyes swept over Cindy and stuck on her. His attraction was as obvious as my father's, but hidden less immediately. My mom answered his question before Cindy or I could.

"This is Cindy, she's Sam's girlfriend from college!"

He laughed at that, a dismissive snort of air through his nose. I thought I'd missed some sort of joke before I realized he was laughing at the idea of someone dating me.

"No, seriously..."

"Seriously!"

Cindy piped up, with a wide smile on her face at my brother's disbelief. She reached an arm around me an pulled me close as she spoke, physical contact which made my brother double-take at confirmation of the impossible relationship. Across the table my father flinched at the same time- maybe reaching the same realization as my brother.

"Nice to meet you, Scott!"

"Uhh... Yeah, nice to meet you..."

Cindy had extended a hand, and when Scott came forward to awkwardly shake, I picked up a slightly sweet smell wafting from him, noticed how red and bloodshot his eyes were. Details I would have missed before college explained his awkwardness-- he was high! I looked around the table, wondering if I was the only one who noticed; my parents seemed oblivious, but I knew Cindy had figured it out by the twinkle in her eyes.

He stood there after, staring at Cindy. An awkward silence stretched out between the five of us, and I looked to the floor, unable to bear the awkwardness. Mom coughed quietly, then prompted Scott out of his dazed reverie over my girlfriend.

"Scott..."

"Oh... Uhh... Is that it?"

"Do you two want any dinner?"

As soon as he heard my mom's question, he was turning around, speaking without even turning back over his shoulder.

"No we ate already."

He bounded down the hall, around the corner, and thumped up the stairs before my mom could finish a sentence.

"Okay, be carefu--"

She was interrupted by the door of his bedroom slamming closed upstairs

"--ugh..."

She looked apologetically at Cindy and I.

"Teenagers..."

My dad barked out a laugh and slapped his knees, startling me again.

"Come on Soph, boys will be boys!"

He stood slowly, and gave Cindy his best red carpet smile.

"What do you think Cindy, ready for dinner?"

"Sure! Can we do anything?"

Cindy began to stand, pulling me up from my chair behind her with one hand. But my mother's sharp protest sat us right back down.

"No! I've been looking forward too serving you for weeks, just sit there and keep telling us about college!"

A prim tap on my father's shoulder summoned him after her.

"Come on Daniel, I do need you."

He surprised me, flashing us a pantomime grimace, an unexpectedly silly expression as he cracked a joke.

"If I had a nickel for every time I've heard that..."

Soon enough, my parents were returned to the table with dinner before us. If conversation had been moving smoothly before, it flowed freely then, with even my Dad's cold shoulder towards me thawing-- or just being forgotten as my parents drained a bottle of wine. When they opened a second, it surprised me that my mother offered Cindy and I glasses; she picked up on my confused look.

"Oh I know... But you're just here at home... And don't think I can't remember what college is like..."

My only answer was a sheepish grin and gracious acceptance of the half-full glass. It helped even more, lubricating my vocal cords and further emboldening Cindy. By the time our plates were cleaned, the four of us were deep in meandering, pointless conversation. I could almost imagine it wasn't my parents I was talking to, just older friends. A strange new light to see them in, putting me at ease and on edge all at once.

Even so, the rest of the evening went quickly, and soon I was struggling to contain frequent yawns. With a squeeze of Cindy's hand under the table I asked her to go to sleep, and the responding look in her eyes told me we were of the same mind. I should have figured, as we hugged my wine-drunk, overly emotional mom and said goodnight, that Cindy had a different plan for what we would do there.

*

My dad had carried up the rest of Cindy's luggage earlier, so we were unburdened as I led the way upstairs. I didn't turn on the lights, comfortable guiding her through the deep shadows of hallways I knew like the back of my hand. My parent's room and en-suite were on the first floor in an extension, so it was just two bedrooms for my brother and myself on the second floor, along with a shared bathroom. I couldn't hear any noises from Scott's room, and there was no light showing in the silhouette around his door, so I assumed he and his guest were asleep.

Cindy went to the bathroom while I let my hair out of its bun, feeling perhaps the greatest relief of my life. Then I fell backwards on to my bed and lay sprawled, half browsing my phone, half falling asleep. I didn't notice her return before the playful jab in my ribs.

"Ow!!"

"Come on, lazy! Go get ready!"

She pulled me to my feet with lively energy to match a barely hushed voice. I winced at her volume, but as I began to shush her, I was met by luscious lips and invading tongue. Her hands roamed and groped with incredible dexterity, and I was nearly swept off my feet by the passion of the embrace. When she pulled back my head was spinning, and it took a few seconds to realize she had pushed something into my hands.

It was a black douche.

I looked between her and the tool in utter shock, so speechless I couldn't even fumble for words. It was too much, too unexpected, too rude of my new world, imposing itself upon my old one. And Cindy took advantage of my stunned stupidity, pushing me out the door towards the bathroom before I could fight.

"Come on, hurry up! I'll be waiting..."

With that trailing promise, she shut the door, and I found myself exposed in the hallway of my house holding a douche, with hair down. My heartbeat jumped to racing, and sweat beaded my brow-- I couldn't get caught like that! I almost ran into the bathroom; I felt so vulnerable it didn't matter that my brother and his girl were probably asleep, and my parents were on a different floor.

Alone in my old familiar bathroom, my agitation didn't fade. I went through the motions, brushing my teeth, and after just fell into the simple habits of self-grooming.

I didn't want to... I wasn't going to let her do anything to me, in my house with all my family home... But I still used it. I don't know why. My regrets compounded when, while squatting over the toilet in bewildered humiliation, there was a light knock on the bathroom door followed by my mother's melodic voice.

"Honey? I just realized I forgot towels for you and Cindy..."

I jumped at her soft words, my heartbeat pounding in my ears again. I couldn't think, panicking, not knowing whether to fight or fly. But like usual, I just froze, eventually stammering out a vague response.

"Uhm, t-that... That's fine m-mom... Goodnight!"

She paused, as if waiting for something more. But it was all I could say, and in a moment she got the message.

"Okay... I'll leave them out here for you... Goodnight, honey."

I waited a moment, then finished, and rushed to pull my clothes on. It had only bolstered my resolve; I was going to tell Cindy no. I couldn't be Sami at home. It was too dangerous. I paused at the door for a moment, holding my breath, listening for anything. When I was happy the coast was clear, I scuttled across the familiar passage and slithered inside my room.

Facing my door, the lock turned with a familiar, satisfying rhythm that I'd felt so many times before. It meant security, safety from the outside world. It helped in steeling my nerves to deny Cindy.

Yeah, I was totally delusional.

When I turned around, any semblance of structured thought was blown away like a swing set next to a nuclear bomb. Cindy lay fully naked on her side, along the edge of my bed. The emerald bonfires of her eyes were dancing with wicked glee, and my knees wobbled while I struggled to find anywhere safe to look. Her legs were long and defined, the smooth curves of muscle leading up towards the gentle hill of her hips. She had a perfectly triangular patch of fiery red pubes, just barely peeking out between her powerful thighs. Her waist looked even smaller than usual in the seductively reclined state, and her breasts hung perfect, perky and tantalizing even in her horizontal orientation, rising and falling gently with the rhythm of her breath.

I stumbled, in the face of such beauty. Who wouldn't?

"Uhmm..."

"C'mere, hottie."

One arm slithered out from her side, and a finger extended towards me, beckoning seductively. My feet moved beneath me with minds of their own, responding to Cindy's spellbinding witchcraft.

Before I realized, I was sitting on the edge of my bed, giving Cindy a wide berth as if she might bite. The wicked smile on her face justified that fear, and it was all I could do to stay still as she pulled herself upright and slid over. First her naked thigh pressed against my leg, then her hands began to roam, one sliding under my top to stroke bare skin, the other lightly caressing my arm. She pressed forward, her breasts heaving into me, warm and giving. When she began to kiss and nibble at my neck, I groaned-- before realizing I had to speak then, or it would be total surrender.

"W-wait... I... I ca--"

I even managed to push her away from me for a second to respond. But she overrode me.

"--Didja do it?"

I flushed, self-conscious about my submissive obedience, keenly aware of how much it undermined my position. But I couldn't lie her, my body wouldn't allow me.

"Well, ye--"

"--Good girrrll..."

She purred in my ear and a shudder ran from my head all the way to my toes and back again, destroying rational thought. But I clung to one word, one idea, a soft groan against the pleasure of her attention.

"...Nnnnooooo..."

Luckily for me, she was content to play with her food. For the time being. She interrupted chewing on my earlobe with whispering in my ear. Her hot breath sent more chills down my spine, and those lithe, strong hands never stopped their roaming.

"Awww don't be like that... Do you say no to Jaxx?"

That question woke me up a little, hint of sharp venom putting me on edge from my aroused state.

"Uhm... No, I... I mean, I don't... I just... can't..."

Even with the shock, thoughts and feelings were too jumbled to properly process. Cindy didn't let go, nibbling and kissing at my neck, hands probing, squeezing, sliding. How did she always know exactly how to press and rub and push and prod so expertly? Why did it have to feel so good?

"Can't what, baby?"

It was the worst thing she could have asked. How could she make me put it in words? Fear and anxious nerves battled inside my stomach, surrounded on all sides by new opponents: frustration and disgust and sadness. Somewhere behind, or underneath them all, another feeling loomed with dreadful, inescapable certainty; dark, shameful, inexplicable desire. I struggled to think of words through the pitched battle of sentiments, and they came out halting and fearful.