Marla Pt. 02

The rest of that evening was a blur and not because I was wasted. My friends and I left that party and hit another 'house'. I knew it was the right move to get away from there but, I was just going through the motions. It was like a switch had been flipped and chatting up other girls no longer mattered to me. Marla was the only thing on my mind. I couldn't believe I'd run into her so randomly after four years! So much about her was different, but still kinda the same... I mean, she was still my blueprint for HOT, but seeing her that wasted and with a sexy tattoo above her ass... I'd never imagined Marla as a bad girl before. In my mind, she was just too perfect for that. What with her upbringing... it just didn't compute.

The next morning after obsessing about her all night, I awoke with her immediately on my mind. Staring at the ceiling, I wondered how her life had evolved. How tight was she with her 'boyfriend'? How bad ass of a hottie had she become? How she came to get that sexy tat? How much of a party chick was she, really? What other surprises would I find, if I pursued her? And would I like it? Was a jaded Marla, as hot to me?

My hand was on my swollen cock and when I came, the answer was clear. Yes, yes, I did like it! And, yes, I was going to pursue her. I had to have Marla back in my life at all costs!

I waited until noon and called her number:

After several rings, "(cough-cough... couuuugh... coouuuuuugh!) Sorry, excuse me... Josh," she whispered. "I can't talk right now."

Awkwardly, I sputtered, "Yeah. It's me, Josh. Ahh, yes, it's OK. Can you call me later, Marla? I'd love to talk."

Marla answered in a muffled voice, "Yes! I'll call you later, Josh." And she promptly hung up.

"Shit. Well, that was less than I was hoping for", I thought aloud, still holding the phone up to my ear. My mind was racing. Was she throwing up? I mean, she was wrecked last night. Was she choking on a lungful of smoke... or COCK!? That latter thought had me fuming, as I tried to banish it, as quickly as it had come to mind. All I could do was wait until she called and I knew I was going to be stuck, miserably, inside my brain until she did.

Finally, my phone rang at 7:13 that evening. Marla had only a few minutes to talk, and again, her voice was relatively muted, but she told me where she was going to be and asked if I had a car and could I pick her up from another 'house party' in the side alley at exactly 8:30. I wanted more details, but she abruptly told me that she had to go and hung up again.

"Shit... What am I getting myself into?" I wondered. But, one thing was for sure. I was going to find out!

I approached the alley, exactly on time. I saw her on the lighted front porch, a cup in one hand and a cigarette in the other flanked by several guys. I eased into to the single lane alley, sensing the necessity for covertness. As I passed the porch, I saw her make brief eye contact with me out of the corner of my own eye. My nerves were on edge, as I had the distinct feeling that something was up... but what? I killed my headlights and came to an idling stop beside the darkened back windows of the house, and waited. Only seconds later, Marla hopped in the passenger side and said anxiously, "Go!"

And 'go' we did! I didn't even look over at her until I was out of that dark alley and back on the main drag, headed in the direction of my house. Checking my rearview, no one appeared to be following, then our eyes met. Marla smiled tremulously, and we both let out a laughing sigh of relief.

"Mind if I smoke?" She already was, so I shrugged.

My mouth was dry and the cat definitely had my tongue.

Marla took a deep drag, cracked the window and blew it out. "Where are you taking me?" Her voice was a bit ragged and scratchy.

"Well, hello to you, too!" I laughed, trying to ease some tension.

"I'm sorry, Josh. I'm just really stressed out... Hi." She smiled warmly, but took another long pull on her cig.

"Well, I thought we could go somewhere to talk, if you want..."

She nodded, but didn't answer right away, so I added, "I know that's what I want!"

Marla smirked and laughed coyly, agreeing that's what she wanted, too. I wanted to suggest my place, but having no idea what she'd been dealing with, or who for that matter, I didn't want to make her uncomfortable. So, I suggested the diner, where we used to ride our bikes for milkshakes, when we were kids.

"Perfect!" Marla concurred.

I bought us milkshakes for old-time's sake. I could tell she was slightly drunk or slightly high, when we sat down. But, we sat there, talking for hours and by midnight, when the joint was closing, nearly all of it had obviously been metabolized and she seemed perfectly sober.

At first we talked about our childhood and our memories growing up and we laughed a lot recalling our innocent, but often misspent youth. Of course she blamed me for all the mischief we got into or out of, and she was absolutely right, I had to admit. It felt like the ice had truly been broken, allowing the second half of the evening, where Marla opened up at least somewhat, maybe a lot, about the trouble she'd been through after her parents had passed so tragically. It was a lot to process and I knew I didn't know the half of it, yet.

When Marla was forced to move away with aunt Jane, we'd lost touch, and life, as she knew it, would never be the same. In sharp contrast to her strict early childhood upbringing, aunt Jane was a liberal hippie-chick. The indubitable aunt Jane smoked a lot of dope and had a lot of sex partners... and hid none of it from her shocked, but impressionable young niece. Aunt Jane was an unapologetic slut. And it had left more than an indelible mark on Marla as she grew up. Almost overnight, Marla's innocence was gone.

She'd started her freshman year in a new school in a not-so-nice part of town. At first she struggled mightily, as "fitting in" while trying to retain the properness burned into her by her folks was next to impossible there. And, slowly, the lifestyle of Marla's aunt began to rub off, affecting her on every level one at a time, beginning with her wardrobe.

Remembering our own shopping spree from the year prior, when her popularity first bloomed, Marla confided in her aunt that she needed better 'cute' clothes. Aunt Jane agreed to help her niece, but Jane's idea of 'cute' wasn't exactly in line with the mainstream. Regardless, slutty aunt Jane had the checkbook and Marla wasn't really protesting. And, it didn't take long before they could pass as a slutty mother and daughter.

In an equally short period of time, one of her aunt's 'boyfriends' had gotten her high and stolen her cherry. As tragic as this was, the horse was out of the barn and Marla's popularity had bloomed again, as sex had given her an identity. It certainly was the wrong kind of popularity, but it helped sate her adolescent craving for attention. In the following years, though, more cravings developed, leading to a very slippery slope.

That was the gist of what I'd learned in the diner that night. I also learned that the guys she was with were very bad actors. They were drug dealers and traffickers and through tears, she warned me that I had better stay away. She pleaded with me to move on and forget her, that she could handle herself. But, I knew she needed my help. She wanted my help. I could see it in her eyes. And, there was an unmistakeable longing, impossible to ignore... I knew, because I had the exact same longing.

We'd just gotten out of my car, where she'd asked me to drop her off.

"Marla, we're soul mates. I can't bare the thought of ever losing you again." That's where my voice cracked.

I continued, through my own tears, "But, if you don't feel the same way, as impossible as it will be for me, I will let you go."

"Oh Josh!" She cried, clinging as tightly to me, as I to her. "I'm so, so sorry. Please just hold me..." Then she whispered barely audibly, "Never let me go."

We held each other tightly for a long time, cheek to cheek, our tears mingling. I made her a promise that cool fall night, as I held her by the shoulders, now at arm's length.

As our waterlogged eyes bored into one another, as strongly as I could, but I admit, it waned to a whisper. I said, "Marla, I love you. I will never, ever let you go."

end chapter two