Shooting Stars 03 Rose (11 page)

"Did you know I was being sent to a parochial school?" I asked Evan when I went to see him after I had spoken to Mommy and Charlotte.

"Sure," he said. "'Why, didn't you?"
"No."
I sat on his bed. He was at his computer, but

"What was it like?" he asked. and I described the building, the teachers, and some of the students. I guess I really sounded happy about Miss Anderson and her excitement about dancing.

"I told you there was something magical in the way you moved," he declared. "It doesn't surprise me that she saw it, too, after only an hour. Maybe you should really think about becoming a professional dancer."'

"I don't know. Right now. I feel like I'm in some sort of limbo and can't imagine what I'll be doing next week, much less the rest of my life."

Mommy for not confiding in me.
"Your aunt is a bad influence," I complained.
"My mother would never have done such a thing
before we came here."
He didn't laugh. He nodded, thoughtful, "She's tenacious, like a bulldog until she gets
what she wants. I tried to help my mother. She was
good at ignoring her when she could, but she was no
match for Aunt Charlotte's persistence. My mother
was too nice to argue or disagree and she always
believed Aunt Charlotte had her best interests and
mine at heart anyway.
"I've gotten so her words just float over me. I
know it drives her mad. Try to ignore her. Do what
you want anyway," he advised.
He asked about the schoolwork and I described
some of what I had to do to catch up. It amazed me
how much he knew about my senior class subjects and
he had all sorts of suggestions and helpful places to
research on the Internet.
In the days and weeks that followed. I often did
my homework with him. We would listen to music he
downloaded over the computer and do my math and
science problems. With his skills I had the world's
best libraries practically at my fingertips-- or his. I
should say.
Barry came on Saturday to take me to dinner, as
he had promised. We had spoken on the phone a
number of times during the week. I could tell from the
way he held back when I asked that I had been a topic
of discussion at school for a while. What he didn't tell
me until we met was how many arguments he had had
and the trouble he had gotten himself into defending
me.
Mommy and Charlotte had left for Atlanta
before Barry's arrival on Saturday. Evan was very
nervous about meeting him. On Friday, he told me not
to bother bringing him to his room for an introduction. "He's not here to see me." he said. "and I'll only
present a problem for you. How do you explain in and
all? Why bother coming up with anything? Just go out
and have a good time." he said. but I wouldn't hear of
it.
"Barry's very nice, Evan. You'll see," I said, but
he was so nervous about it that he kept his door closed
on Saturday and pretended to be asleep when the hour
of Barry's arrival drew closer.
I was happier to see Barry than I realized I
would be.
It
was as though he brought with him all the
good memories I had from the one place we had been for the longest time, a place I could call home. When he drove up, I ran out to embrace him. He kissed me on the cheek. but I held onto him and he looked into my eyes, smiled, and then kissed me again softly on
the lips.
"Hi," he said, happy with my big greeting. "It's
good to see you, Rose. You look great."
He pulled back and drank in the house and the
grounds.
"Wow!" he said. "A lot different from where
you were last. huh?"
"A lot different in a lot of ways. C'mon," I said,
grabbing his hand and leading him up the stairs and
into the house. Of course, he was impressed with the
size of the rooms and the elegant rich furnishings, the
art and the statues. I quickly explained that my mother
had gone to Atlanta with Charlotte.
"But I want you to meet Charlotte's nephew," I
said. "before we go out to dinner."
I had told him about Evan's handicap. but I had
emphasized how intelligent he was and how expert on
the computer. When we went down to his room, the
door was still shut tight. I knocked, waited, and called
to him.
"Evan. Barry would like to meet you." He didn't respond.
"Maybe you shouldn't push it," Barry suggested
softly.
I knocked again and waited.
"He's still asleep, I guess." I said. Barry nodded.
I glanced back at the shut door, disappointed. Barry had done his research of the area and
knew where to go for dinner. Once we got to the
restaurant and sat at our table. I never stopped talking.
He listened attentively, nodding and smiling
occasionally. When I realized I had barely begun to
eat. I stopped talking and he laughed.
"I'm sorry." I said. "I probably ruptured your
eardrums."
"No. I loved listening to you. I think the
dancing you're doing sounds very exciting. By the
way, I don't know if I'd told you I applied to NYU
early admissions. but I did, and I've been accepted." "Oh Barry, that's wonderful. Congratulations.
You're still thinking of becoming a lawyer?" "Yes, but I'm thinking I want to be involved in
prosecution, maybe become a U.S. attorney
someday."
"You'll be whatever you want, I'm sure.' "So you," he countered. "I couldn't imagine
anyone saving no to you, Rose,"
I smiled. I was almost too excited to eat. The
food was delicious, but my stomach felt as if I had
just gotten off a roller coaster. In the last week I had
hit so many peaks and valleys emotionally, I wasn't
surprised.
Barry talked about some of the other kids I had
been somewhat friendly with, excluding Paula, of
course. Every time I brought up her name, he tried to
change the subject. Finally, he told me about some of
the arguments he had had and the fight he had gotten
into with Ed Wiley, which had resulted in his being in
detention for a week.
"Oh, no. You were such good friends. I hate to
be the cause of anything like that."
"You weren't. It was all Paula's fault, Let's just
talk about good things from now on. Rose," he said
quickly, letting me believe there were even more
gruesome and ugly details.
After dinner we rode back to the house slowly.
I could sense he was prolonging his time with me. I
didn't want him to leave either. I suggested he come in
and maybe we would find Evan up. We didn't. His
door remained shut and when I knocked again, we got
the same silent response. It wasn't that late yet, so we went into the family room and started watching some
television, sitting beside each other on the long settee. We began to kiss, small, exploratory kisses, our
lips grazing our faces, his moving over my eyes, my
nose, and always finding their way back to mine. I
turned into him and moaned softly.
He chanted my name as if it was a prayer, and
he told me how much he had missed me and longed to
see me. His hands moved up from my waist to my
shoulders and then over my breasts. It felt good to be
loved, to be wanted, to be needed. I said nothing when
he reached back and shut off the lamp beside us. Only
the glow of the television screen cast any illumination
over us. It was a warm light, making his face glow.
When he undid the buttons of my blouse and slipped
it off my shoulders, he brought his lips down to
follow the lines of my neck to my shoulders and
kissed me again while he took my blouse off
completely. I could feel him fumbling with my bra
clip and reached back to undo it myself. He nudged it
away with the tip of his nose and began to kiss my
breasts.
Excitement within me spiraled out, reaching
every part of my body, right down to my tots. I had no
idea how far we would go. I toyed with complete abandon and he went further and further, moving his hands up my legs, over my thighs, until he made my
heart nearly leap out of my chest.
"We'd better stop," I whispered in his ear, even
though I didn't want to stop. I almost wished he would
ignore me, but he was too sweet and loving not to
listen. He held me tightly, waiting for his own
breathing to calm.
"My heart's pounding like some
sledgehammer," he said. "I'm afraid they'll come
home and walk in on us. Barry.'
"No, you're right," he said. "Of course." "I don't want you to be upset," I said and kissed
him. He kissed me back.
"When you go beyond a certain point, it's like
trying to stop a car on ice," he muttered. He kissed my
breasts again and held me just as tightly. "It's hard to
just stop," he said, not moving away. "Maybe if we do
it slowly, like easing out of quicksand."
"You think I'm quicksand?"
"I wouldn't mind if you were pulling me down
and into you. Rose." he said.
I smiled and kissed him. He moved down, his
lips traveling over my breasts again to my stomach
and to my skirt, which was still undone. I pressed my hands against his ears and felt myself being pulled
along as he went further and further until I gasped. "Please," I said with barely a breath. "All right. I'm sorry. I want you so much," he
said.
We lay next to each other, waiting for our blood
to settle, like water that had reached its boiling point.
All we could hear was the sound of our own deep
breathing. Then, I heard something in the hallway and
moved quickly to get my bra back on and my blouse. "Are they here?" he asked nervously. He
reached over to turn the lamp on.
We both listened. Except for the very low
murmur of the television, it was silent again. I rose
slowly and went to the door. I thought I heard the
squeaking sound of Evan's wheelchair and then the
nearly silent closing of his door. My heart pounded.
Had he seen us?
"Rose? Anyone there?"
"No," I said.
"Maybe I should get going." Barry said, coming
up beside me. He kissed me on the cheek and I leaned
back into him while he held me, kissed my hair, and
whispered, 'I really like you, Rose. I like you a lot." "I'm glad. Barry," I said. I turned to him and we
kissed again. Then we walked to the front door. We stood outside looking up at the starry night
sky. There was no moon but the stars seemed closer,
their illumination washing the world in a silvery glow
that turned the trees into sentinels manning the walls
of our castle, keeping all the sadness and worry away
from us. securing our dreams, It was magical. "I'll call you tomorrow." Barry promised.
"Good."
He kissed me again and then he left, letting his
hand slide slowly through mine. I kept mine extended
as if the warmth and the feel of his remained, even
though he was already down the stairs. He paused at
his car, waved again, and got in. I watched him drive
off. Then I embraced myself and went back into the
house.
I stood in the foyer and listened. The television
was still on. but I didn't see or hear Evan. I returned to
the family room, straightened out the settee, and then
turned off the set. Before I went upstairs. I walked
quietly toward Evan's room. I noticed that his door
was slightly ajar and there was some light behind it, a
flickering glow.
"Evan?" I said at the door. He didn't reply. I
nudged it open a bit more and gazed in. At first what I saw seemed so strange. I thought I was imagining it. He was at his computer, wearing his headphones-- and nothing else. For a moment I couldn't breathe. I stepped back, closed the door as quietly as I could, and fled up the corridor, up the stairs, and into my
room.
Whatever he was doing. I thought, I had no
right to spy on him and certainly no right to judge
him. I pushed the images out of my mind, quickly
replacing them with images of Barry and sounds of
his voice, his words, our wonderful lovemaking. I had wanted to be as intimate as possible with
him, but I didn't want him thinking that if I was that
intimate with him so quickly, I might be the same
with other boys. It has to be special; it's important that
it's special. It won't have the same meaning and
significance if it isn't, I thought.
But I was certain in my heart that we would be
complete lovers soon. I fell asleep dreaming of that
and the wonder of what just the thought of it did to the
way I saw and felt about everything around me. It was
as if all my senses had been heightened and my blood
made richer.
The tips of my fingers and toes tingled with
expectation. I moaned softly to myself, hugged my pillow, and pressed my cheek to the soft fluffiness, anxious to travel quickly through the dark doors of sleep into the wonder of my fantasies.