Meg Pt. 05

Elijah, a trumpet player from Meg's high school days, lived in a one-story ranch with scruffy shrubs in the yard. A wooden fence separated the front yard from the back, and over the fence, Meg could see smoke and the tips of the bonfire flames.

She parked behind Alex and got out of her car, rubbing her palms on her jeans.

She'd been nervous to see Alex again, but that was because he was an ex. This was a different type of nervousness. Thinking of these people, she remembered what things had been like in high school- the bullying, the anxiety, the loneliness. She didn't miss it. And she knew that just like she would remember the penises boys drew on the back of chairs, the people who pulled up floor tiles in her English class, she knew they, too, would remember her for who she was and treat her accordingly.

"You all right?" Alex asked as he met Meg between their two cars and they walked towards the backyard.

"Fine," she said shortly.

He touched one hand to her back as he led her closer to the gate. "It'll be fun, you'll see," he promised.

As they walked through the gate and through the other side, Meg paused to take in the faces. Only a few glanced up as they entered, most engaged in conversation. She recognized faces from her youth, people she hadn't spoken to since she graduated. She realized she thought of them by their instrument, the trumpets, trombones, drummers.

A plastic table sat against the house with cups and sodas. Two coolers sat beside the table and Alex opened one as Meg looked around. There was a wooden porch with only room for a few chairs, all occupied. The rest of the party was scattered on the grass in mismatched chairs. There was no garden, just crabgrass and trees along the edge of the property, but it gave room for Elijah to have a large bonfire in the center of the yard. The flames were as tall as Meg, and she could feel the heat from the edge of the lawn.

"Drink?" Alex asked her, holding out a beer.

She took it and popped it open with a bottle opener on the table.

Elijah came to greet Alex.

"Hey man," Alex said. "Thanks for doing this. You remember Meg?"

Meg and Elijah nodded at each other. They knew each other in passing, but had never spoken much with each other.

"C'mon," Alex said, touching his hand to Meg's back again, as he led her into the midst of all the people. There were about thirty people there, and she recognized a flute player who had bullied her, a trombonist who she knew was studying to be a vet.

Alex led her to a small group of people sitting on the far side of the fire. "You remember Dean?" Alex asked her.

Dean looked up from his conversation with a very pretty girl Meg didn't recognize. He'd had long, shaggy hair in high school, but it was much shorter now. He didn't have the acne he'd had back then either.

"Hey Meg," Dean said.

"Hi," she said shyly.

"And this is Jasmine, his girlfriend," Alex said.

Alex offered an empty chair to Meg and she sat, trying to convince herself not to run far away. She knew it had been four years, that Dean was probably different, but she remembered him miming 69, the way he laughed as she fled to the far side of the band room.

Alex and Dean started talking about work, and Meg gathered that Dean was a mechanic now. Jasmine smiled shyly at Meg, and Meg realized that Jasmine must feel far more out of place than she did herself.

"So you were in band, too?" Jasmine asked.

"Yeah, I played flute," Meg said.

"It's cool that your school had such a big band. I think the band at my school had six kids? Not many."

"Where did you grow up?" Meg asked. She sipped her beer as she looked at Jasmine. Jasmine was dark haired, with green eyes and perfect pink lips.

"New Hampshire," Jasmine said. "I came here for college and decided to stay - more job opportunities, you know? And then I met Dean a year ago, and he likes living close to home."

Meg glanced over at Alex and Dean. Back in high school, they couldn't have talked this long without a "that's what she said" joke, but they were talking about mundane things now, customers Dean had that day, how Alex's band was doing.

She talked to Jasmine about college and learned she had gone to school for education. She was an elementary school teacher now in Winchester.

Meg found Jasmine easy to talk to, and suddenly her beer was gone.

"I'll be right back," Meg said. "I want to grab a soda."

She moved to the table, pausing as she waited for a guy to open a beer. He turned then, and they both looked just as shocked to see the other.

"Hey," Mitch said. "Wow, it's been forever. What brings you around?"

"Alex invited me. How are you?"

"Really good. And you?"

"Good," she said.

Mitch was still as handsome as he'd been in high school, although he'd gained a little weight. He was tanned from the summer, golden hair falling in his sky blue eyes. Those eyes had turned her speechless in high school.

"So what are you up to these days?" he asked as she grabbed a can of Sprite from the cooler.

"I'm a web designer, right in Burlington actually. You?"

"I'm a robotics engineer. I work in the city, but I'm living out in Revere."

"That's on the water, right?" Meg asked.

"Yeah, there's a beach there. If you're ever in the area, definitely let me know."

"I will," Meg said.

Meg returned to Jasmine, and they chatted a bit about their high school experiences. Jasmine reminded Meg a little of herself - good student, a little shy, eager to learn.

Elijah brought out s'more making supplies, and Meg got up to roast one. She speared a marshmallow on a stick that had to be at least three feet long. The bonfire was hot despite the cool air. Meg looked into the flames, mesmerized as they flickered and danced.

"Hey," Mitch said, sitting in a lawn chair beside her. He pushed his marshmallow towards the flames.

"Hi again," she said.

Mitch turned to the flames and they were quiet for a moment. Then he said, "I have to ask. Are you and Alex?"

Meg shook her head. "No, we're just friends."

Mitch nodded. Meg had a feeling she knew what he was thinking about, because she was thinking about it too- those fall nights in senior year, after band practice, pressed up against the metal supports beneath the bleachers, his hands on her skin. She blushed.

Her marshmallow, cooked just a little too long, fell in the fire, and Meg swore. Mitch looked at her and then burst out laughing.

"What?" she asked.

"Four years ago, I don't think that word was in your vocabulary."

"Yeah, well, I heard it a lot in college. Can you hand me another marshmallow?"

"Take mine," he said. "I'll roast another."

"It's fine, I can roast it myself," Meg said.

"No, I insist," Mitch said. He was already pulling his perfectly browned marshmallow off his stick and placing it between two graham crackers. He handed it to Meg and got up before she could protest.

In middle school, Mitch had never turned his head to look at Meg, even when she was pining after him. The same was true of early high school. Then, after lots of therapy and self-reckoning, she made a conscious effort not to seek him out. After her breakup with Alex, she didn't want to date anyone in her senior year, but it was her lack of attention that drew Mitch to her.

They'd first kissed in the woods at band camp, hidden behind a wide tree trunk from any chaperones, and the kissing had continued after marching band practice in the evenings.

Mitch returned and leaned back in his chair, as confident as he'd been four years ago. She couldn't help watching him, looking at his muscular arms, his broad shoulders, and most of all those bright, blue eyes.

His second marshmallow came out as nicely as his first. He made his own s'more and took a bite.

"I have a taste for sweet things," he said and winked at Meg.

Meg blushed and finished her s'more. "I should get back to Alex," she said.

He smirked as he watched her walk away. Alex was talking to Rich, a trombone player. Meg sat next to him and listened, rather than joining in. She glanced around, but Jasmine and Dean seemed to have left.

She finally found a break in the conversation to murmur to Alex that she was ready to head out.

"So soon?" he asked. "All right. I'll talk to you later."

Meg smiled at him and walked quickly to her car.

As she was unlocking it, Mitch walked towards her. She looked at him curiously.

"What?" she asked.

He didn't say anything, just walked right up to her and kissed her.

"Oh," she said as they broke apart to get air.

"Yeah," he said. And he kissed her again, strong hands wrapping around her, his body pushing her against the door of her car. She was back at the football field, the smell of grass, their hands tentatively exploring. Except this time, Meg was not a virgin, and she had a feeling Mitch wasn't either. There was something knowing in the way he pressed his palm against her thigh.

"Come home with me," she finally said.

"You sure?"

"You want me to change my mind?"

"Okay," Mitch said, stepping away from her. He glanced towards the fence, then back at her. He smirked. "I can follow you."

Meg nodded and got into her car. Mitch's car was a few cars down, and when she saw him get into his own car, she pulled out and he followed her.

She only lived ten minutes away from Elijah. She let Mitch in to her apartment and turned on the lights. As soon as she'd closed and locked her door, Mitch started kissing her again. Kissing him got her heart racing just as much as it had years ago. He tasted like taboo and mistakes, and she loved every second of it.

Mitch reached under her shirt to grab her breast. He kissed her neck, her forehead, her earlobe. He impatiently pulled her shirt and bra over her head, then led her towards the futon where she laid down, topless. He climbed on top of her and she could feel he was already hard under his jeans.

"Do you keep condoms around?" he asked her in between kisses.

"I have some in the bedroom," she told him. "You want me to get one?"

He sat back, letting her get up. "Yeah, you better get one now."

She scurried to her bedroom and grabbed one, then came back out. Mitch had taken off his shirt, and she paused for a second, taking him in. He was toned from shoulders to waist. He crooked his finger at her and she sat on his lap.

They kissed again, his hands pressing against her spine. She ran her fingers in his hair.

Meg reached her hand down and unzipped his jeans. They'd only kissed in high school, never venturing below the belt, and Meg was happy to discover he was just as big as she'd hoped he was. He stopped kissing her for a moment and sighed as her fingers ran over his shaft, then he pulled her face back towards him and kissed her with more ferocity.

Mitch pulled away from her again and said, "Take your pants off."

Meg got off his lap and pulled off her jeans. She was wearing a pair of cotton polka dot panties. They weren't lacy, because she hadn't expected anything special tonight, but they were wet, and that made Mitch smirk as he looked at her. She laid down on the futon and Mitch tucked one finger, then two under her panties and inside her. Her hips lifted automatically, shifting to give him the perfect angle.

He played with her for a minute, then pulled her panties off her thighs. He stood, took off his pants and underwear, and slid the condom on.

"I hope this futon is sturdy," he said as he leaned over her, his penis brushing against her thigh.

"Bring it," she dared him.

He may have started slow if she hadn't taunted him, but he rose to the challenge and started hard, rocking the entire futon. There was a little friction at first, but she quickly grew wet with him in her. All too fast, she was coming, moaning and arching her back. Even her toes curled as she came. When she opened her eyes, Mitch was smirking again. He lifted one of her legs onto his shoulder and slowed his pace a little, letting her come down from her high.

"You get wet easy, don't you?" he said. "Not so innocent now."

"I'm more fun these days," she countered.

"Yes, you are," he said. "Damn, you feel good."

He kissed along her calf as he thrusted. Then he pulled out of her and told her to "Flip over."

She obeyed, getting on her hands and knees. He entered her, starting slow and then quickly picking up his pace. He slapped her on the ass, once, twice, then gripped her hips to pull her deeper against him.

As he pumped, she lost track of where she was, and all she could think about was the sensation inside of her. She knew she was crying out, but her voice felt separate from her. She pushed her hips back against him as he thrusted, wanting him deeper, deeper, still deeper.

And then she was coming again, coming so hard that Mitch slapped his hand over her lips to muffle her noises. His hand was salty and firm against her mouth, and that made her orgasm even deeper.

"You're a noisy thing, aren't you?" Mitch asked as he slowed.

"Oh, shut up," she said.

"Come on, show me your bedroom," he said as he pulled out of her.

She obliged, and he followed her into her bedroom. She laid down on the bed and he grabbed her legs and pulled her so her bottom was at the edge of the mattress. He stayed standing and pushed inside of her. He guided her legs back to his shoulders.

As she looked up at him, she felt a mixture of emotions, both want and hate. Here was a man so perfect looking, those mesmerizing eyes, and so smart. He was the only one who could keep up with her in math classes. But just like then, she could tell he had no interest in commitment, only wanted what made him feel good. But what made him feel good in this moment was making her feel good, and she quickly forgave him and lost herself in the pleasure again.

"Fuck," she said. She clenched her fingers around her blankets. "Harder. Harder. HARDER."

He obeyed, thrusting against her, causing just as much noise with the slapping of skin against skin as she created with her voice.

And then his pace picked up even more, and he was thrusting so deep inside her that Meg threw her head back and yelled, then whimpered "Yesyesyesyesyes" as he pushed. He gripped her legs hard enough to bruise them, and then she felt his whole body go rigid against hers. His eyes glazed over and he panted, then pulled out of her.

"Damn," Mitch finally said.

All Meg could do was nod. She wasn't sure if she ever had had an orgasm like that before, where she felt weightless, completely unmoored from reality.

She had the energy to pull herself fully on the bed. Mitch threw out the condom and joined her. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Meg stared at the ceiling, not really seeing it.

Finally she sat up, coming back to herself. "You want to stay?" she asked. "I know it's a long drive back."

He shrugged. "Sure. Does that mean I can fuck you in the morning?"

"Maybe," she replied.

His penis, though limp now, twitched a little.

She went to the bathroom to clean up and then moved to the living room to collect their clothes. She tossed hers in the laundry basket and folded Mitch's and placed them in a neat stack on her bureau. She put on a clean set of panties and a large t-shirt, turned off the light, then crawled into bed next to him.

Mitch fell asleep easily, but Meg stayed awake, thinking. A part of her thrilled at having him in bed beside her, and she was excited for the next morning. But she knew she couldn't snuggle against him, or she'd ruin the moment.

She played moments from the evening in her head, Mitch handing her a s'more, Mitch uncapping a beer, Alex's face flickering in the firelight, Alex's hand on her back. Meg buried her face in her pillow in confusion, and it was over an hour later when she finally fell asleep.