I Keep Reaching Ch. 01

*Author's note: This is not a quick spank story. There is a plot that leads into the romping. I've personally never cared much for the stories that skip straight to the sex as it kind of defeats the purpose.*

****

"See you Friday, Erik!" my friend Kyle yelled to me across the court.

Waving him off, I gathered my belongings into my gym bag and made my way out the back door.

I was playing basketball for a middle of the road university a few hours from my hometown. Playing it all my life, it was only natural that I would pursue a scholarship through basketball. However, I wasn't exceptionally good and although I did receive a scholarship, it was a modest scholarship.

Playing basketball with my friends across the street were some of my favorite memories and as I grew older it only made sense to try to make something out of the sport. Although I was successful in this regard, basketball had long become something of a monotonous chore. Being close to 6'6", I had my advantages in the sport and it was easier to stand out, at least among the lower divisions of the sport. Now, however, I was simply going through the drill in order to maintain my scholarship. Basketball, to me, was now only being a means to an end: a computer science degree. For now, at least, I thought.

It was a Thursday evening close to eight in the evening and I wanted nothing more than to go to my dorm room and play some video games with my roommate and possibly get hammered since it was finals week. Luckily my finals were arranged so that I had no finals on Friday. The semester was over as far as I was concerned.

After making the two story climb to my humble dorm room after my already exhausting two and a half hours of intense basketball practice, I limped into the room. I quickly darted across the room to my bed in the far corner of the room and sat down.

"Give me a warning, Captain Dick, you almost made me lose!" my roommate Robert blared at me from the other corner of the room. He was propped up on the front of his bed staring intently at the TV screen. I snickered at the use of the nickname he gave to me a few weeks into our unplanned pairing.

He was playing Street Fighter on the large television between our two beds. Our room wasn't very large and didn't allow for a great deal of privacy. Two beds and two desks were all the room allotted, not counting the closets.

"I don't have any finals tomorrow, wanna drink?" I asked him.

"Sure," he simply stated, still focused on the game in front of us.

Getting up from the bed, I kneeled in front of the small refrigerator that was on the table next to the TV to grab some beers, purposely swaying my hips wildly to block his field of view.

"Dickhead, move your ass!"

"Think fast!" I told him, before tossing a cold beer into his lap.

He hissed at me and let the beer slide in between his curled up legs before finishing his game and cracking it open.

After a few pulls he tossed me a controller and asked me for the "hard stuff." Quickly understanding his meaning, I reached into the back of the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Jaeger and found a couple shot glasses. It had become tradition for us to drink liquor and play video games on Friday nights since I usually had basketball games or practice on those nights and would wait until Saturday morning to drive home. Robert would be around because he didn't have any parents to go back to and because his dorm room was, more or less, his home.

Also, we weren't social butterflies and preferred solitude or the company of a few close friends, neither one of us being frequent party-goers.

With the ruleset set to best of seven, we started. Loser of the set takes a drink. Although often it derailed into both of us taking a shot after each set, the two of us simply enjoying the company of a close friend and drinking companion. After pairing with him my freshman year, Robert quickly became my best friend.

This went on late into the night. After quickly downing my upteenth shot in between sets, I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. I pulled out my phone, noticing the time reading 12:48 AM. Apologizing to Robert, I paused the game and stepped into the hallway.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Erik? This is Dad," I heard the baritone voice of my father from the other line. "Listen, I don't want to scare you, but your sister tried to overdose on pain medication earlier this evening."

My sister, Chloe, was a year younger than me. Unlike my dark brown hair, her dark hair had a sprinkle of red causing it to look almost black in the darkness and a beautiful auburn in the light. She was tall like me, close to 5'10".

Off my game, in a manner of speaking, I stood silently. Honestly I was clueless how to respond to news of this nature regarding anyone. My currently inebriated brain was also not helping.

"You still there?" my father asked quietly.

"Is she okay?" I asked, fear suddenly rising to my chest and throat. I felt knots in my throat and it came through in my voice.

Somehow sensing my concern, my father explained to me that she would be fine. By chance, my mother was digging around for laundry and found her before any serious damage could be done. She found her laying on her stomach next to a pool of vomit. Luckily, she vomited the majority of the pills. My mom woke her up and took her to the hospital. She was very groggy and unresponsive but she did manage to walk with the help our mother. The ER doctor explained that she had already emptied her stomach so there wasn't any more that could be done and my mom and sister returned home with instructions for Chloe to drink plenty of water and get lots of sleep. They had taken blood tests and made an appointment for a short follow-up the next day.

Unable to bare standing in the suddenly overbright hallway, I tried to quickly end the conversation.

"Okay, Dad. I'm driving in tomorrow, I'll see you guys then, okay?"

"Sure thing, love you kid. Stay safe."

Ending the phone call, I rushed inside the room and made a beeline for the bathroom. Parking myself in front of the toilet, I vomited off and on for close to ten minutes before grabbing a towel and cleaning off my face. I gargled some water and spit it out and quietly returned to the room.

The TV had shut off from inactivity and now the room was in darkness. I heard soft snores coming from Robert's corner of the room, grateful that he didn't hear my violent bodily noises in the bathroom.

Lying down in my bed, I pondered. Even after emptying my stomach, I still felt very drunk. But holding my liquor was never a problem for me. The bright hallway lights must have triggered something within me.

Then I thought back to my memories as a child. The afternoons spent playing house with Chloe in the backyard. The games we played with our pets and stuffed animals. Teaching Chloe how to play ball on the driveway with my friends across the street. Laying on the couch across from eachother, tickling eachother's feet. The arguments we had over nothing--usually spurred on by things as trivial as me humming or singing. Again, I felt the knot in my throat. Why did she try to kill herself? I wondered.

The feeling of vertigo overcame me, again, and I silently made my way to the bathroom and parked myself in front of the toilet for another session of vomiting.

****

I woke up at 6:30 AM to the sound of my alarm clock blaring. Frustrated at my stupidity for forgetting to turn it off, I got up and quickly showered. I'd never been able to quickly fall asleep after waking up, even when I was hungover.

Quickly showering and brushing my teeth, I began gathering my belongings. I made routine trips home almost every week, leaving Friday night or Saturday morning. I said I did it for the free food and so my mom could do my laundry, but the truth was I was simply homesick and longed to be home.

I dumped my laundry bag and laptop bag in the back seat and prepared for the long drive home. Usually this was my favorite part of the week: listening to some tunes and hitting the open road, mentally preparing myself for the warm reception I received every week. The usual smile I couldn't get rid of was instead a tired frown.

Driving well over the speed limit, I made it home in about an hour and a half. I opened the front door and found that the house was very quiet. I leaned an ear against my parents door and heard the familiar snores from my father. Even after the long drive, it still wasn't even nine in the morning. It was unusual for me to arrive this early in the morning, I thought to myself.

After tossing my laundry bag in the laundry room, I made my way upstairs and set up my laptop on my desk and connected my external monitor as well as my external mouse and keyboard and distracted myself with some gaming.

It wasn't until around eleven in the morning that I heard movement in the house. I finished my game and went downstairs.

"Good morning," I greeted my mom as I made my way down the steps. She was reclining in her chair, sipping her large container of coffee.

"Oh, I didn't notice you come in. How was your week?" she asked.

"Same old, same old," I answered before going into the kitchen and preparing a bowl of cereal.

I moved into the living room with my food and sat on the couch, eating my cereal and watching TV with my mom. Eventually Dad joined us and sat down with a cup of coffee and the newspaper.

We talked briefly about our weeks. As Christmas break was just beginning, my dad made his usual speech about getting a temporary job so I would have spending money during the upcoming spring semester. Eventually, however, curiosity got the best of me.

"What's going on with Chloe?" I asked Mom, sternly.

She glanced at me, nervous. Clearly I breached a sensitive subject and she looked down at her lap with a look of sadness and failure.

"She's fine. But she's been depressed lately. You know she took a year off after graduating but she's having a hard time coming to terms with 'returning to the real world'. You and your sister are still so young. I know you're busy, but would you mind talking with her? Try to lift her spirits? I'm at odds with myself for not noticing and she doesn't respond to me or your father. Please, Erik, just talk with her."

I was shocked that she felt she needed to beg me for something so simple. Of course I would talk with her!

"Of course, Mom, you don't have to beg me!"

Surprised by my sudden outburst, I marched into the kitchen and put my bowl and spoon into the sink with a loud 'clank' and started upstairs. I felt like I came off as uninterested and frustrated at being tasked with talking with my sister, but in reality I was angry because she assumed I wouldn't try to help without her urging.

I didn't say anything, however, as I've never been very good with confrontation, something I have in common with Chloe.

I knocked loudly on Chloe's door, five quick knocks followed by two slow knocks.

"Come in!" I heard her shout. It was faint, but I could just make out her soft voice over the sound of her TV.

I closed the door and found Chloe laying on her bed, her hair in a ponytail behind her. She had on flannel pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt. One of my old t-shirts, I recognized. Next to me on my right was a TV, the movie A Nightmare on Elm Street playing.

She sat up on her bed and smiled.

"Hey, Erik," she greeted.

"Hey yourself," I responded, smiling back at her. Sitting up, I could now recognize that she had on an old shirt of mine with the picture of Dwayne Johnson's face as The Rock. I smiled, remembering the hours spent in the living room watching the scripted wrestling show with her. We knew the wrestling was fake but the characters and drama were just too outrageous for Chloe and me to pass up.

I sat down next to her on her bed and placed my arm around her shoulder.

"I've missed you. I'm sorry we haven't been able to hang out that much these past few months." I said.

"I've missed you too, Erik."

She leaned over my chest and wrapped her arms around me. I leaned my head into the side of hers, noticing subtle hints of watermelon and mint. She smelled good. Clean. I also felt her chest against mine. I didn't remember her breasts being this big.

"Are you okay, Chloe?" I asked, sincerely.

"I'm fine now," she said matter-of-factly, gripping me tighter around my upper back.

I leaned into her more and again felt the lump in my throat. Somehow I felt responsible for her actions the night before. If only I hadn't neglected her then maybe I would have noticed the signs. Maybe I could have prevented something.

Holding her in my arms, I again thought back to the time spent together during our youth. We were inseparable as kids. Even up through middle school, we spent the majority of our free time together, often spending evenings watching TV and playing games. We were best friends. How did we drift apart? I wondered. It felt like years since the last time we embraced each other like this.

I pulled back from her and looked her in the face, my arms still tightly gripping her lower sides.

"Dammit, Chloe, what were you thinking?" I asked, almost rhetorically. I could feel my eyes watering and it took a great deal of self control to not burst into tears right in front of her.

She looked at me, sharply, with her lovely hazel eyes before letting go of me and sitting back down. Looking down at her cupped hands on her lap, she said, "I don't want to talk about it."

Not accepting her answer, I grabbed her elbows and turned her to me.

"Chloe, I don't know what I'd do without you. If I lost you. Do you know how much you mean to me?"

She continued staring down at her hands. The room was silent for several moments as neither one of us were very good communicators.

I realized quickly that my outburst was unwise and quickly added, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lash out at you."

She said nothing. Instead, she started crawling backwards into her bed and lying down before propping her head on the pile of pillows on the headrest. She stared at the television, a blank disconnected look on her face.

In her current state of mind, confronting her directly was a poor choice of action. Granted it was more of an emotional outburst than anything else, it still had the undesired effect of pushing her further away from me. I needed to fix my error and get her to open up to me.

"You mind if I stick around and watch this movie with you? I don't really feel like watching The Price is Right."

She forced a smile and leaned down and covered my right hand with hers.

Accepting this gesture as a 'yes', I squeezed myself onto her twin sized bed and got comfortable next to her, also propping my head on the pile of pillows. I wrapped my hand around hers where they met at our waists and she gripped it tightly.

It didn't matter that Chloe didn't pause the movie during our brief conversation as this was a movie she'd seen many times. She was something of a horror movie buff, having a sizable collection of movies in the genre.

We watched the movie in silence, connected at the hands. Instinctively, I drew circles with my thumb on the side of her hand, her soft skin eliciting a desire within me that I didn't realize was there. In her delicate state of mind, however, I only wanted to comfort her and try to repair our damaged relationship. I cared for her deeply and wanted nothing more than to see her happy.

Periodically, throughout the movie, I would glance towards her and stare at her as she watched the TV. Her face no longer had the baby fat that she carried through middle school. Her cheeks and nose were lightly freckled with small brown dots. She wasn't much of an outdoor person so her skin was pale and contrasted her dark auburn hair, creating an almost angelic aura around her. She was unquestionably pretty.

"Are you hungry?" I asked after the credits started running down the screen.

"A little, but I have a follow-up doctor's appointment at noon," she said, sadness washing over her face. Clearly embarrassed, she let go of my hand and placed both of her hands on her stomach.

"That's okay, we can pick something up then I can take you there myself."

"No.. You can't.." she said before trailing off.

I scooped her hand off her lap and brought it up to a ninety degree angle from the bed and interlocked my fingers with hers. I pulled her hand to my mouth and kissed the back of her hand.

"I want to," I said, looking into her eyes.

"Oh, I'm so embarrassed," she responded before turning and looking away from me. She let go of my hand and I heard a small sob escape her mouth.

I reached for her cheek and pulled her to face me again.

"I'm here now. Don't be embarrassed around me. I love you."

She responded, "I love you, too," before kissing me on the cheek and laying her head on the pillow next to me. We lay like this, nose to nose, facing one another, for several moments. Laying there, staring into her bright hazel eyes, I caught myself yearning for more than just holding hands. I wanted to run my fingers through her hair and kiss her firmly on her soft lips. Burying these thoughts in the back of my mind, I just stared at her and simply waited. This girl was my sister, and she needed her older brother. Seeing her like this, seeing her disconnected emotions and forced smiles, was breaking my heart. I would do anything to make her feel better, I realized.

"Let's go then. Mom is going to come barging in here any moment to tell me to get out of bed and get ready," she announced.

"I'll tell Mom that I'll be taking you to your appointment. Let me know when you're ready to leave," I responded.

Even though we drifted apart in high school, it was not unusual for us to make quick car trips together. Often, we would ride together to get food or go shopping. She usually took anywhere from ten to fifteen minutes to prepare for these types of trips.

I made my exit from her room and glanced over the upstairs balcony onto the living room below. Seeing my mom still reclining in her chair, I explained our plan to her. Then, I made my way to my bedroom and sat into my computer chair. Waking up my computer from sleep mode, I prepared for some more light gaming while I waited.

As I stared at the screen, however, I realized I had butterflies in my stomach. Immediately thoughts of Chloe's hand wrapped around mine and the soft, delicate features of her face invaded my mind. I just stared blankly at the screen, unmoving, deep in thought. I knew I loved her, but I never once thought about her this way. Brothers aren't supposed to feel this way about their sisters, I thought to myself.

Meanwhile, in the real world, fifteen minutes went by while I just stared at the blank screen. I heard a light tapping on my door and shouted, "Come in!"

Looking over my shoulders, I could feel my jaw expanding at the sight before me.

Chloe stood in the doorway staring at her feet. In my mind, I still imagined a young rebellious girl with a sharp, filterless tongue. The nineteen year old woman who was standing before me was no longer the gangly little girl I remembered: too tall for her age, unsure of how she fit into her own skin. No, my mind quickly made amends to those memories, adding details I hadn't noticed until all too recently. She was wearing a pink buttoned-up blouse made of some cotton material with sleeves that ran all the way to her fingers. Her bust, nearly spilling out of the blouse, was showing a fair amount of cleavage through the v-neck. She was wearing a matching blue skirt etched with pink flowers that went to her knees. I knew she dieted and did some aerobic exercises in her room but her hourglass figure was breathtaking. Her dark hair, now taking on a shade of dark red from the sunlight beaming in from the window in my room, was carefully wrapped in a ponytail behind her head.