Hartan Expanding Ch. 02

I squinted.

"It's... specific. Sometimes I'm not allowed to tell you about it until afterwards. There's a couple of things that're, like, Assumed. We'll do those, and then I write it up. Just facts, a set format. We've been doing it as part of a 'sociology' experiment since like 3rd grade - except everyone does it, everywhere. There's keywords we have to use, all that."

I laughed. "And... you believed that?"

"NO, not the point though. Doesn't matter if it's a lie, if everyone knows it's a lie and just winks and nods and there's no need to explain since everyone's in on it. Anyway, I write what we talk about, in the specific format. It's not a betrayal of trust, it just has to happen. It's... really, it's the price being here. Relatively safe. In a house. Above ground."

Shrugging, I had nothing to reply with.

She grinned. "You have stats."

"Like, am I a good kisser?"

She chuckled, "Yeah, actually. But not *only* that. Really, though, there's no bad-kisser judgements unless you're really, really bad, like inconsiderate, or inappropriate, or stuff like that."

"So what happens now?"

"Skin."

My eyes got wider. This sounded fun. "Ummm... Okay?"

"There's no script for this, Kev. It's my rules tonight. We can talk about rules for tomorrow night, our rules, but for tonight, my rule is, we need skin and we'll start with that. If you want to get off, you can, but if you do, I'm going to sleep on my side of the bed and not help you."

"Oh." I processed this. "So, we're going to get naked, then go to sleep - with no masturbating or other stuff tonight?"

"Right." She looked at me, and said, "Is that okay with you? How does that make you feel?"

"Uh, like, I'm okay with that. I'm happy, I guess. I feel happy. I get to see you naked, right?"

"Sure."

"And, you see me naked... But, you've seen me before. We're next to each other, here."

"Right."

"Can I touch you? Like, with my hands?"

"Within limits. Nothing stimulating. I don't want this to be a cum-fest. We're just getting to know each other now. This isn't about the physical intimacy. We have to have some pace to the emotional connections or it'll feel odd later. Trust me, this is a girl thing. Plus, I have to rate you on that, if you're jumping the gun or going too slowly, whatever, compared with what I want. For me - I just want some touching time, some hang-out relaxed time, talking, too - before we 'do the deed'."

"Oh." I hesitated, and said, "I'm cool, with whatever you want. This is all just Beyond Fabulous from my perspective. Naked Maria, there's like Zero arguments here, get me more of that!"

She laughed and kind of rolled her eyes. "Okay, big boy, you can look. I get to look, too."

Sitting up, she pulled her shirt up over her head. I watched her breasts shift, high on her chest with the movement, then down to resting position and slightly tilted down since we were on our sides.

Her nipples were pointing out at me, daring me to stare at them. Tossing her shirt to the end of the bed (and making her boobs bounce at the same time, she rolled on her back and scooted over, pulling down her underwear and chucking that down to the end, too.

I pulled my shirt off, under her watching eyes, then my underwear, too, over my semi-hardness. I felt her eyes on me, but she was smiling the whole time, so it seemed okay.

She reached up and turned off the light, then sidled over, under the covers, and we lay down together, me on my side towards her, and she on her side towards me. She reached up, and we kissed, slowly, dazzlingly softly, our lips sliding over each other, and our tongues moving in light glancing touches before we moved in closer and started pressing tongues against each other harder.

As she moved next to me, I felt her soft skin touch mine, her hands rubbing my side and back, and my hands roamed over her back and waist, feeling all the warm, cozy, fresh feelings that my fingers could possibly feel. Her light touch on my back, at first tentative, became a bit harder, and then her fingernails scratched lightly, too.

The fingernails on my back lit up my senses, and I had a hard time concentrating on the kissing.

She broke off the kiss, and said, "Hold on there, boy. Hold on. Let's slow this down a little."

"Easy for you to say!" I was smiling as I said this, grinning at the beauty I was experiencing. "Your fingernails... wowzers. I wasn't expecting that."

"Scratches, light ones, can be super-erotic. Remember that."

"I'm writing it down right ....Now... uh.. Okay, got it." I'd pretended I had a notepad and was writing. In the dark, it didn't work too well as an effect.

"Roll on your back. We need to sleep."

"Oh. Okay, I guess..." I rolled, and felt her come up by my side and throw an arm and a leg over me, her boob pressing against my upper arm.

"What'cha thinkin'?

"I'm concentrating on the feeling of your left breast on my left bicep. It's very soft, and I ... I think I can feel ..."

"My nipple?"

"Yes. Your nipple is poking me a little. I love it."

She giggled, "Oh. Good to hear that."

"And..." I continued, "Your leg is really soft, and it's pressing down on my leg, and it makes me feel, like... appreciated, I guess. Like, it's... I feel like... You like me."

"Of course I like you!"

"Well, it's one thing to be liked and not know it. If a girl likes you, you get this kind of, inside-happy-feeling. But, it's never for sure. Sometimes they stop liking you, and don't say anything. Never knowing where girls stand? It's hard. But,right now - I'm pretty sure that if you're like this," I moved my leg and rubbed her thigh with my hand appreciatively, firmly, almost grasping, "then, that means that I haven't done anything wrong. Or, at least mostly. It could all still spiral out of control, but for now, you like me."

She laughed long and hard at that, "Spiral out of control? Ha!!!" She kept laughing.

I didn't think it was that funny.

"Kev, relax. We're going to sleep. I really like you. That's not going to change, even if you fart. It's okay."

I laughed, finally, and said mock-officially, "All-right then! Very good to know that, ma'am."

I just felt her, touching me, holding me, for the longest time, and her breathing got more regular, and I could tell she was asleep. At that point, I knew, I wouldn't wake her up with snores, or whatever. I didn't know what, but I didn't want to mess this up. It seemed, based on the stuff I'd been told in the last 2 days, like my life actually depended on it.

== Chapter: First Days ==

Waking up and going to get showered was a normal thing, the next morning, with the exception that I decided to shave, too. It was by whim - sometimes every day, sometimes skip a few, depending on how rushed or scraggly I was.

Being paid attention to as much as I was in class (and between classes) was nerve-wracking, so looking on the nicer side of normal seemed like a good plan.

After all, my dad had told me once in an off moment, "Girls see you do one thing well, they presume you can do OTHER things well. Shower. Dress nicely. Keep your hair trimmed. They'll presume all kinds of other things and you don't have to work to impress them."

Of course, he'd told me this way back when I was in grade school, but I still remembered it.

As I was leaving, Mom gave me an even bigger kiss than normal, wetting my cheek a little, and a strong hug. Maria, beside me, got similar treatment from her, but there was a brief exchange of whispering in the ears, some happy nods, and we left.

I asked what it was about as we walked down the block, and Maria said, "She wanted to know if you were a gentle man, and a gentleman, and I said, 'yes to both', and she said she loved me, and I said I loved her, too."

Mom told me that she loved me all the time. I hadn't said it nearly as often. "Maria?"

"Yeah?"

I thought for an extra second then asked, "So, I'm thinking about what love is. I'm not sure. I mean, I love my Mom, and Dad, and I love... I love my sister, for sure, and ... I love the little ones, for sure, too. They're great! And, I think I even love Shay like an aunt. But, it's a little different, like, with you and everybody else who they've got living here."

"How?"

"You're ... not my sister. You're a housemate. I know, I know, sometimes I call you and the others 'sis', and sometimes you or they call me 'bro', but mostly it's Kevin this or Kev that, right? And, like, you're not even a steady housemate. It's kind of an on-again/off-again sort of thing. The Residence Authority, they do the moving, I get that, but it's got to be a little frustrating."

"Yeah, a bit, but..."

"So, we've known each other for quite a while, but still, housemate doesn't equal sister."

"I am NOT your sister, in any sense of the word." She was a little incredulous, a wry grin on her face. "What we are is many things, but this is nowhere close to incest."

Nodding, I said, "Right? Right. Exactly."

She looked back at me, we agreed on that bit.

I continued, "Like, so, it's gotta be a little weird, that you're going to be dating me, though."

"Not weird at all. I came here 4 years ago, almost 5. I've lived somewhere else about half that time, so, only about 3 years in this house, and never in the same room with you. We don't look the same, act the same, any of that."

"I think we're violently agreeing."

She smiled at that, then got serious again. "Listen, this incest idea gets sizeable brain bandwidth in side conversations. There's a lot of 18Club pairings that started out as housemate situations. It's pretty common. This conversation has got to be like the umpteeth echo of the same words. What are you trying to say, then?"

"I was just thinking about whether I can say, or if I should say, what my feelings are for you. I think I should say something. I feel like -- ug ... I want to. I want to tell you, because I know it will make you feel good, and that will make me feel good. But I don't know what I should say, because I don't want to put you under pressure or anything."

"Me? Under pressure?" She scoffed, sort-of laughing, like she had the answers and was waiting for me to spill it out.

"See? There. You know the answers here. You know what I'm about to say, you know what's going on, and I'm just feeling around in the dark, trying not to stick my effing foot in my mouth and screw it up."

"No, Kev. I don't have all the answers. But, you should relax about something, something really big..."

"What?"

"You're not going to screw it up, not going to happen. Oh, sure, you'll say stupid shit. We know that. I might even say something stupid, too. But, we've got to have you say all the stupid shit you can, to me, as soon as you can, so you don't end up thinking something stupid and getting wrongheaded, and losing out. The only way you lose in this, Kevin, is by not being completely honest. You've got to give me everything you have. If you think I'm manipulating you, somehow, say it. If you think I'm not being fair, or you're always having to do something or other and it's not right, say that."

"I can't imagine..."

"You will. Things will get more, and more, and more complicated for you. You only have one handler now: Me. The standard plan is for you to have a 2nd, inside the first month, to get everyone used to the dynamics of 3-plus people. You may be fast or slow, but it's going to happen. Relationships with 3 people in them are exponentially harder than with 2, and you're in the early stages yet on that, too. Actually gets easier with 7. Three is hardest, at the start. So, buckle up."

I nodded. "So, does it count against me if I get emotionally involved with you?"

She laughed uproariously, "Are you fucking kidding me?" She fell over, leaning on her knees. "Oh that's great! Oh My God! Wow. I'm ... wow! How do I give you a straight answer now? I'm laughing my head off!"

Taking a minute to calm down, she stopped and leaned against a nearby tree. She eyed me, a soft glow in her eyes, obviously happy and caring. She walked up to me and put her hand on my cheek, and kissed me. "Kevin, Yes, you're supposed to get emotionally involved with me. That's the idea! That feeling won't, hopefully won't, ever go away. There's no barrier here. Yes. I get emotionally involved with you, you get involved with me. We can't be exclusively for each other for the rest of our lives. That's not the way humanity can work right now, not for a hundred years or something, but that's the way it has to be now. And it's good. And yes, I'm 'involved' now. With you."

"Oh." I took this in, and thought a second. I worked up my nerve, and I said, "I'm not sure I know what this all means, but I know my heart, mostly. I know. The pain? Watching evil and death and pounding oblivion, in China and everywhere else. I know. I feel, with that same heart, my heart, it's like I have heartburn, and it's burning when I'm thinking about you, now." I inhaled a little, and looked her in the eyes, "I love you, Maria."

She gasped a little, and her eyes flared, but I was pretty sure she knew it was coming nonetheless. Still, she said, "Oh, thank you, Kevin!" and gave me a big hug. "Oh, my god. Thank you." We just stood there for a minute or so. I was, on one level, loving her, feeling in my chest the feeling of being connected with her chest, with her heart. On another, more 'today' level, I was a little cold and wondered when the hug was going to be done.

Pulling away, she looked me in the eye, and said carefully, "Kevin, I have something to say, too. I love you, too." Her grin was a mile wide.

I thought about it and just for a tiny moment wondered if it was an act.

I was pretty sure it wasn't. She was being (like everyone else) tremendously interested and helpful, and there couldn't be a world where she was being mean or underhanded. I got the idea of not having privacy, but she'd described it - there was a lot of systemic crap she had to do and put up with, so I had to, also.

We hugged some more, then she pulled away and took my hand, and we kept walking, in silence. Getting to school, I said, "So, what happens now?"

"You don't have to tell Alissa anything, I'll fill in my contact form when I get inside. Keep the silly grin off your face if you can help it, otherwise people will ask, and that's a big part of the Rules, right?"

"Got it."

"Remember, nobody under 18 can know this stuff, so we don't talk, at all, about 18Club stuff! Not your guy friends, not girls you know, Nobody." Her eyes were serious. "Everything, from your perspective, is the same-as-always, just do your school stuff, and make it work. If you lose concentration, a little that's fine, more than that, it won't reflect well. You have your cycle schoolwork to finish and so do I."

We agreed to meet up after school at the same corner where we'd met the previous day.

== Chapter: More Looks ==

Word must have gotten around about my birthday, I think, that day. That, or I was acting differently in some subtle way that wasn't obvious to me. I felt a bit better, for sure, in an emotional way, like I was freed up and more able to interact with people. Of course, not getting a full 8 hours didn't matter much the first night, but I'd found that not-enough-sleep factors usually caught up with a day's delay.

As I walked down the halls, and between buildings, I noticed people noticing me.

When guys pass each other in the halls, or anywhere, we nod to each other. The kind of nod indicates which it is: familiarity, commiseration, respect, or just acknowledgement.

The up-nod is for people you know, reasonably well, or at least have met in passing before. It says hello, or acknowledges something shared, like an elevator or an otherwise empty classroom.

A down-nod says similar things but more formally, or recognizes that there's more important tasks at work that both are familiar with and are working on or feeling pressure about.

Between guys and girls, the rules were similar for nods, but what guys did with their heads, girls did with their eyebrows or more subtly with facial expressions that were sometimes too small for me to spot. I could only spot it in blatant circumstances, I didn't do subtle well (I didn't think), but as I got older and the gender ratios started skewing more towards girls it seemed harder and harder to spot.

Of course, I was really focused on the schoolwork and the social stuff wasn't as important to me as it obviously was to them.

What I noticed in the halls that day, more than days before, was that more eyebrow-raise greetings, more half-smile eye-contacts were coming my way than any time that I ever remembered in my entire life.

There was also more formality around me, I noticed.

In math, when I came into the classroom, I saw the girls on either side of my seat stiffen up just a little. It didn't hit me at first, it just seemed strange, and then when I ran the natural brain-replay video we all do when something odd happens, I realized they'd shifted in their seats and sat up straighter. Then, two of the girls next to me kept rubbing their upper arms, just behind their elbows, and kind of shifting around.

I didn't know what the body language meant, but I knew it meant something. The timing seemed an unlikely coincidence.

Having been warned about working hard and staying focused on my schoolwork, I kept my head down and worked the problems in front of me like I normally did. Like any other day, my device threw flashcards and recognition problems at me, running me through remedial material as well as advanced stuff to ensure I kept mastery of the topic from bottom to top.

Adaptive learning, they called it, and sometimes it seemed really pedantic, but supposedly it picked up on how long your responses were, for which tasks, and pushed up performance on both recall and analysis.

My adaptive learning was distracted, I knew, because it kept throwing stuff I'd done last cycle at me. Each cycle we pulled new ideas that built on the previous, especially in mathematics. If I wasn't doing it as fast, I must be distracted. So, I thought about it, and I was distracted.

If you get distracted you are slower so you know you're slower because you're distracted, and knowing that you're distracted is in itself another distraction.

UG!

We had uniforms for school, so there wasn't much real variation allowed in what people wore. Shirts were either white or black, jackets were black, ties were black, pants were black. That's it.

The only variation for personality came with *how* people wore their clothes. It would be either tight-fitting or loose, closely-tucked in or poof'd out like a tent. The girl to my left, sitting at the same table, had her shirt unbuttoned, with her tie loosened down to the second button, which technically wasn't allowed.

This allowed some skin to show as well as, in the case of a girl next to me, a necklace. It was a simple gold chain with both a small Protestant-Christian cross and a small Jewish Star of David hanging from it.

The fact that she was wearing it was noticed by more than just me, but, looking over, I saw that 2 other girls, at other tables, were wearing the same thing, and kind of in the same way, too.

The odd thing was, once I'd seen her, and she noticed me noticing her chain, she gave me an eyebrow-raise with a shy smile bordering on an inhale. I didn't know what that meant, but I knew it meant something. After she did it, she buttoned her top 2 buttons and straightened her tie again. I was confused, and looked it, probably, but I kept my mouth shut and went back to my work.

The teacher stopped by a minute later and explained something to us about how to approach a kind of problem, which distracted all of us for the next 10 minutes or so. When I looked around again, I saw a girl at a table nearby with her tie down and unbuttoned shirt showing a gold chain as well. She was faced my way, and a lot more blatantly was looking at me. This was not a mistake.