Senior Year Memories Ch. 27

“Thanks,” Alice said.

“No problem,” I replied. “Say, you wouldn’t be interested in helping me move some furniture this afternoon, would you?”

Alice laughed. “Not bloody likely. I’ve moved so much furniture recently that I think I’ve had more than enough for a lifetime.”

“Fair enough,” I replied. “I’ll still, you know, see you around?”

“Definitely. If not through our usual window rendezvous, I’m starting school in a few days when the winter break is over. Why, do you miss me already?” Alice teased.

“No. But... I’ve enjoyed spending time with you today,” I said.

“And I with you,” she replied.

“And I’d enjoy having some more. You know, talking, hanging out, getting to know each other,” I said.

“I’d like that too,” she said, reaching across the table and touching my hand lightly. It wasn’t anything suggestive, just a simple sign of affection, but in the absence of Josie being here it felt really nice. “Though I think your girlfriend might go a little crazy if we don’t wind up having sex sometime soon.”

“You know, a year ago I’d have thought a sentence like that sounded crazy,” I said.

“Isn’t it great how some things change?” Alice asked.

“Sometimes,” I replied, a little nervous myself. I didn’t know if Alice was truly teasing about the sex or not, but I didn’t want to push anything when I sensed a friendship on the horizon. I definitely was interested in her, but without any real knowledge about how she viewed sex and love and friendship outside of her tendency to tease, I decided to take things slow and see how they developed.

I may have been imagining it, or maybe it was the mall’s air conditioner, but I could’ve sworn her nipples looked a little hard.

“So... you sure you don’t want to help me move furniture?” I asked, hoping to end things on a joke.

“Hard pass,” she laughed.

“Well, it was worth a try...” I said, looking back down at my lunch and taking another bite.

***

I hadn’t been over to Josie’s house much, but I had been enough times that I’d call myself familiar with it. Josie’s parents looked like fairly conservative people, but were open and nice overall, very gregarious and happy to see that Josie had a boyfriend. I don’t know what her father did for a living, but the size of the place told me that he made a fair bit, as did the fact that the inside of the place looked almost like a museum for how clean and nice everything was outside of Josie’s bedroom.

It was a cooler day than the last few, one that might have threatened rain for the clouds overhead. It made for a nice bike ride over to Josie’s after Alice dropped me off back at home. Though my muscles were still recovering from the New Year’s bacchanalia, it felt good to exercise them in a way I was more used to, especially before I got too into moving furniture when I would no doubt feel like death.

Josie didn’t tell me how much there was to move, or how much help she was sending, but I was optimistic on the ride over that it wouldn’t be too bad.

I was wrong to be optimistic.

There had to be about six large crates on her house’s front porch and another six out on the lawn when that wouldn’t fit, all of them looking very big and very heavy. There was a single car parked out in front of the house, but if that meant help, I couldn’t see them anywhere.

Pulling out my phone, I sent a quick text to Josie.

Me: You owe me for this one. Big time.

She responded even quicker.

Josie: Yup! Thanks!

I shook my head, chuckling lowly. This was going to be a serious pain in my ass.

“This is insane,” a familiar feminine voice uttered.

“Hello?” I called out, looking for the voice’s source.

A head peeked out from behind one of the taller crates on the lawn, revealing a pretty, familiar face.

“Ryan? Don’t tell me she roped you into this too,” she said.

“I could, Fatima, but then I’d be lying,” I replied, smiling as I walked toward her.

If you were running a competition for most beautiful girl in school, then track star Fatima Hassan definitely had to make the shortlist. Her face was pretty and delicate, with soft brown skin, a smart smile behind full but not too full lips and piercing brown eyes that could hold any man in place. Her hair was long, straight and black, so silky you couldn’t wait for her permission to touch it. At 5’11”, she matched my height, and had a tight, lean body from her years on our school’s track and archery teams. Today she wore comfortable jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, her bountiful hair held up in a bun, and a small backpack with her prayer rug strapped to the top of it. It was a less glam look for her than I was used to, but she still looked amazing.

We weren’t close, but since she was one of Josie’s best friends, we weren’t strangers either, and when we met on the lawn we exchanged a polite hug.

“If this wasn’t for Josie, I’d have run by now,” Fatima said.

I nodded. “I’d be joining you.”

“We still could, you know. Make some excuse, tell her ‘sorry, but...’ and roll the dice,” Fatima mused, even though I knew she wouldn’t.

“No we couldn’t,” I said.

“No, but we can fantasize...” Fatima said, smiling slyly as she looked at me out of the corner of her eye.

“You been here long?” I asked.

“A few minutes. Enough to know that we’re in over our heads,” Fatima said.

“We’ll manage,” I said.

“I know,” Fatima said, looking over the crates. “It’ll be a lot easier once we get them out of their boxes, but now... it’s...”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

She sighed. “Well, come on then, let’s get into the garage and stow your bike away, get some tools. Josie told me that they had some gloves and lifting straps, and there’s gotta be something we can use to break those crates open. A crowbar, a hammer...”

“Yeah, there’s gotta be something like that in there,” I agreed, stretching my tight arm muscles out in anticipation.

“Are you alright?” Fatima asked me.

“Yeah,” I said, unsure of how much detail I should or shouldn’t go into. I knew that Josie and most of her friends liked to fool around with each other, and that Josie was pretty open when it came to talking anything and everything related to sex, but I’d spent so little time with Fatima compared to Sarah, Hope and Mia, that I was uncertain of how much detail to give.

Ultimately, I settled on, “I’ve just had a busy few days, still kinda recovering from New Year’s.”

Fatima smirked, walking down the driveway toward the garage, “You should be, from what I’m told. More reason I’m amazed you came today.”

Watching her move with such confident control of her body (no doubt from her years in track), it was like looking on a work of art. When I finally pulled my jaw off the floor, I caught up to her, walking my bike alongside me so I could store it away.

“Josie told you?” I asked.

“Some. Some of what you were up to. Some of what she was up to. Sounds like both of you had a happy New Year. Probably best some of us did,” Fatima said.

“You didn’t?” I asked.

She shrugged in response. “It wasn’t an unhappy New Year, it just, you know, was. Dad took me and my little sisters and brother to go get ice cream and stay up to watch some fireworks in Blair Valley, which was cool, but honestly not what I would’ve preferred to be up to.”

I sensed an opening worth exploring. “And what would you have preferred to be up to? Trouble?”

Fatima thought on my cheesy line, then laughed, though it wasn’t necessarily a nice laugh. “Nice line. It’s not enough, but it’s a nice line.”

“A nice line for what?” I asked.

“Did you honestly think it’d only take a cheesy one-liner and then I’d be dropping my pants for you? Do you honestly think I’m that kind of girl?” Fatima asked, suddenly dead serious.

“No,” I said, defensive and worried that I might’ve done something terribly offensive in front of one of Josie’s friends. “I mean, that wasn’t what I was, I wouldn’t ever think that-”

Her serious face broke quickly, and she laughed again. “Relax, relax, I was just kidding around with you.”

“You were?” I asked, a little scared, a little hopeful.

“Yeah. I like to weed out the guys who think I’m just some badly strong stereotype, this uptight Muslim overachiever they either fear or lust after out of a misplaced understanding of exoticism. I can turn up the confusion and fear if I get the feeling a guy’s a real asshole, really mess with his head, but you... well, I just had to be sure, because I didn’t know anything 100% before, but I do now. Sorry for running you through the ringer,” Fatima said, earnestly.

Well, my heart had calmed down at least, now my mind just had to catch up. “I still... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by what I said, honest. It’s just... you and I, we haven’t talked much, and I don’t know much of what else to talk about outside of certain... explicit topics, and when you started talking about Josie-”

“Relax, Ryan. There’s nothing to apologize for, and even if there were, you’d be forgiven quickly. I know you’re a good guy. Josie says so. Sarah says so. Hope says so. Fuck, even Mia says so, and I’m pretty sure she hates everybody. I trust them, so I trust you, now even more. That you didn’t react out of anger when I played my little game, well, that only confirms what I already knew from them,” Fatima said.

“And you had to play the game?” I asked.

“Hey, we girls gotta have our defenses these days; guys are capable of anything,” she said, stating something I understood to be unfortunately true.

We’d gotten to the garage door, and she pulled it open. There was still one car parked inside, while the other half was empty and had a solid collection of easily accessible tools.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure that Josie sent the two of us here today in the hopes that something would happen between us. She’s been bragging about you for so long, and one after another the others have too, so, I’m not taking anything off of the table. I just like to be a little more unhurried on these things than the others. It’s not a judgment on them, it’s not me being repressed or anything, it’s just how I like to handle things with people I barely know. Is that... does it make sense to you?” Fatima asked.

“Entirely,” I replied. “With the last week I’ve had... I could use some unhurried. I’m not expecting anything to happen, I’m not even saying I *want* anything to happen-”

“You aren’t?” Fatima teased.

“Well, yeah, it’d be fun, but I’d still have a good time just getting to talk with you and know you better than just being ‘Josie’s friend’, since that’s pretty much the only way I know you now. Let’s just do what we gotta do, try to make the most of this, and see if Josie’s machinations worked out, or if we just feel like collapsing on the ground for three or four days after all the heavy lifting we have to do,” I said.

She laughed. “Yeah, there is that.”

I surveyed the garage. “Well, if we run out of space in the house to put that stuff, we can always stash some on the other side of the garage here and let Josie know. It wouldn’t be inside, but it would be out of any rain.”

“That’s good. That might even be really good,” Fatima said.

“Thanks,” I said.

Reaching over at a tool bench, Fatima retrieved a crowbar and handed it to me. “You get a start on some of the boxes, get an idea of what we’ve got to work with, and I’ll start rounding up tools. I think they might even have a dolly stashed away in here, though I can’t be sure. What do you think?”

“I think it sounds like a plan.”

***

What we really needed was some 80s movie fixing things up montage music to really make the time pass by, but since I couldn’t find a decent set of speakers to sync to my phone and Fatima wasn’t enough of a fan of 80s music to really try with hers, we were stuck with only each others’ company while we unboxed and moved furniture.

Not that that was a bad thing. Fatima was lovely company, every bit as funny and smart as Josie once you got past some of her shyness and guardedness, if not quite as outgoing.

After only about two hours, we managed to bring half the furniture inside, unboxing and stashing away an odd collection of antique chairs, a couch, some dressers and a wardrobe that probably led to a fantasy dimension if we really took the opportunity to explore it.

Without any need or expectation of anything beyond helping Josie out on the table, we had a relatively relaxed time getting to know one another without any pressure of sex.

Not that it was far from our minds. I couldn’t help but be transfixed by Fatima’s beauty and the powerful grace with which she moved. Her clothes were form-fitting but not terribly revealing, but even I couldn’t not see she had a nice butt and some firm, if modest-sized breasts. I was sure she caught me looking at her a few times, and it was enough to get her to smirk at least a couple of those times.

Though she didn’t give me the same looks that I was giving her, whenever she felt relaxed enough, she’d throw questions my way. I could tell that she was incredibly curious how a guy as skinny and nerdy as me had managed this kind of reputation in a year, and I was happy to answer her when she asked them. At first the questions were simple, but after a while, she started getting a little more explicit.

“So... you don’t have to answer this question, but I kinda think that if you don’t that you’ll be answering it anyway,” Fatima started, straining slightly as we worked with our twin crowbars to open another crate. Between both of these bars, the hammer and gloves she found, we made easy work on the boxes, and though more of the furniture was heavy than not, the lifting straps and dolly made for easy transportation into the house.

“This is always the beginning of something good,” I replied.

“Ah, thank you,” Fatima said. “I’m not asking for an exact amount if you don’t want to give one, but... if you could estimate, how many girls would you say you’ve been with this year?”

Unhesitating, I said, “Twenty-eight. So far.”

She looked surprised by this. Honestly, I was a little surprised by it too.

“Wow. Keeping score much?” Fatima asked.

“Not at all,” I said.

“I just thought, you know, you’d take at least a second or two to do some math; you knew that number like that,” she said, emphasizing her point by snapping her fingers.

“You’d think I’d forget any of them?” I asked.

“A lot of guys would if they actually had numbers that high,” Fatima said.

“I don’t,” I said.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Is that really so hard to believe?”

“Honestly, yes,” Fatima replied.

“You don’t have a very high opinion of guys, do you?” I asked.

“Have you met most of the guys at our school?” she shot back.

Okay, she had a point there. I didn’t have much higher an opinion of the guys at our school either.

“I know that number so easily because I remember every woman, and I value every experience I’ve had. Every woman I’ve been with has been a singular and wonderful experience that I’ve burned into my memory, each one of them one I had to learn to pleasure in her own specific way, each one her own unique adventure, and I’m going to do everything I can to hold onto those memories because they have been so special to me,” I explained.

Fatima thought about what I said. “Okay. I understand that.”

She looked like she felt guilty for teasing me, and I felt bad for making her feel bad. I barely knew Fatima, but I did like the girl I’d gotten to know, and I wouldn’t have minded getting to know her better.

She paused for a moment, thinking something over, before saying, “Since you were honest with me... You know that me and Josie and the others like to... have fun, every once in a while. I’ve been with two other girls, and four guys; three I went all the way with, one I only went down on because I wasn’t sure I wanted to go all the way with him. Turns out I made the right decision with him, but that’s another story for another time. Girls... they’re drama, but they’re easier than guys, sometimes. They at least know what another girl wants and how to offer it. Guys, they’re hit or miss. With having a sex life as difficult as it is in my house, I need to be careful of who I choose to be with, especially if all I’m looking for is some solid, no-frills casual sex. So, while my numbers may not be as impressive as yours, I’m happy with them.”

Looking at me, she added, “I know you’re all hit instead of miss, you’d have to be to have all my friends’ interest, but, still, you can understand some of my hesitations with guys.”

“I can,” I said.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like some of what guys got to offer, though,” she said, eyes teasingly darting to my crotch before looking back up at me.

“Well, on behalf of the better portion of my gender, I’m glad to hear that, at least,” I said.

A distant rumble of thunder got our attention. The sky had turned darker and cooler, and we were only about halfway done with the job. We’d gotten most of the crates off the lawn, save for this one and one other, but it looked like we were going to have to hurry up. During our conversation, we’d neglected the lid, and through mutual, silent understanding, Fatima and I both hurried up to pull it off.

Peering down inside, I noted, “Looks like another box of chairs.”

No, wait, it was more than that. On top of an upside-down chair, there was a cardboard box with Fatima’s name written on it in Josie’s handwriting. I pulled it out for her.

“And this,” I said.

“Oh,” Fatima said, then as if with great realization, she said, “*Oh*.”

She looked at the package, her eyes somewhere halfway between embarrassed and excited as she said, “Thank you. I should... I should rush that inside, real quick. You get started on the chairs, and... I’ll catch up with you!”

“Sure,” I responded, curiously watching her disappear into the house.

“I didn’t get a care package,” I muttered jokingly, pulling out another chair. “Hope it’s good, whatever it is.”

***

“I’m dead,” I said, collapsing on Josie’s living room couch.

“I’m dead with you,” Fatima replied, collapsing next to me. A storm had started outside, and it was only by a minor miracle that we’d managed to get everything inside before the sky opened up. Now, with lights on we sat down looking out the window as the rains came down outside.

“Any chance I can bum a ride off you later? I didn’t exactly plan for rain,” I said.

“Sure,” Fatima said. “You want now, or...”

“Later. Later’s fine,” I said.

“Good,” she replied. “You know, you can train for any kind of race, and there’s times I feel like I can run for days on end and no force on Earth could stop me, but moving furniture...”

“It’s hell,” I said.

“Yup. Josie better appreciate what we do for her,” Fatima joked.

“Damn straight,” I joked back.

After a moment’s pause of us watching the rain, Fatima added, “She does.”

“I know. She’s awesome,” I said.

“I know,” Fatima replied. “So awesome, I don’t think she’ll mind us hanging around here a while longer. Maybe ordering some pizza?”

“Are you buying?” I asked. “I’m a little short on funds after Christmas.”

“I will buy. So long as you’re cool with me picking toppings,” she said.

“Do you irrationally hate pineapple on pizza?” I asked.

“No.”

“Then I’m fine with you picking the toppings,” I replied.

“Cool,” she said. “You want it now, or...”

“I can wait a bit. Sit here with you, watching the rain, talking...” I said.

“Yeah. That sounds... kinda nice.”

“Yup,” I agreed. With the amount my attention was being held and demanded over New Year’s, just hanging out with a girl who didn’t need much from me other than my company really was nice. It was great this morning when I got to hang out with Alice, and it was great now just sitting here on the couch with Fatima. Sure, we’d kept things modestly flirty, and there was still a chance for anything to happen (I knew it, she knew it), but here and now, sitting next to each other, close but not too close, it was pleasantly peaceful. If we had just spent the rest of the day here, had some pizza and kept chatting before she took me home, I could’ve gone back happy.