Rather than meeting at Marshal’s apartment on East 78th he changed the location to his parents’ weekend home in The Hamptons. Before heading out there Charity asked if I could buy her two cheeseburgers and a milkshake from Checkers along with three pickles from a local bodega. Pregnancy cravings are a strange thing.
As I left Manhattan: be safe bubbie. Text me when you get there. Don’t text and drive.
As I made my way into Queens: I’m bored. I wanna draw but I’m not feeling inspired enough. Wish you were here. You always inspire me. In non sexual ways, too.
Entering Long Island: Geez you drive slow, bubbie. Hurry up.
Halfway to Valley Stream: I’m hungry.
Entering The Hamptons: Began drawing dad in a Green Lantern suit. He looks handsome. Would you like me to sketch you in a Seido uniform?
The last text was in relation to a new baseball anime she began watching and, naturally, compared me to the southpaw in the show.
Upon reaching my destination I texted Charity. Ten seconds later: yay! Study hard bubbie. But don’t overload your brain. Love you.
Another ten seconds: I’m hungry.
The home was one of those deals where, at the driveway, you have to press a call button on a small box and wait to be buzzed in. After a minute the black gate began moving vertical until it was wide enough to fit the BMW through.
The only lights on were on the main floor; there were three floors total. The house had so many windows you could see right through. It was all white inside. Upon pulling up to the three car garage I noticed a Jacuzzi and square pool as wide as the backyard itself.
Marshal stood in the open doorway propped against the hinge. He waved as I killed the engine, got out, and slapped palms with him.
“Sorry to drag you out here. My parents were having a party in the apartment, said it would be alright to use the house.”
“No problem. Nice digs.”
“It’s a bit much. I hate coming out here. The apartment would have been more than sufficient. Feels like I’m rubbing my wealth in your face.”
“I can see why you’d think that. But it’s fine.”
Clapping my back he led us through the hallway towards the back where the kitchen is. “Drink?” He said, walking to the floor-to-ceiling refrigerator pulling out a beer.
“I drove, remember?”
“It’s cool bro. You can stay the night. Plenty of room to spare. Everyone else is.”
“I don’t wanna impose.”
“You’re not. I invited you, remember?”
I took the open bottle of imported beer- a brand not familiar to me in the least- while saying “who else is here?”
“Just a few of our class and the team. C’mon.”
Kendrick, Weinberger, Johnson, and Novak were eating slices with their faces buried in a book, pens furiously moving. There were boxes of pizza spread out on an elongated glass table at the center of the room which was surrounded by white couches that nobody was sitting on. The various smells hit me like a tidal wave.
I slapped palms with everyone, nodded at Novak who only looked up from his books to do so.
“Hey Star.” A voice from behind me said.
“Hi Denise.” Uh oh.
She hugged me. I could feel her breasts push against me. Her top was tight. Her jeans even tighter, if that were even possible. I didn’t even know she owned anything as casual as jeans and shirts.
“Grab a slide before these animals have it all.” Marshal said.
“The pizza’s good but Brooklyn style is better.” Kendrick said.
“Dude, have you not had Chicago style?”
“Have you ever had a slice in Italy?” Betsy Weber, a short blonde haired double D chested frenemy to Denise, said. “There’s this adorable place in Venice I went to with my father last summer. God, my pussy is throbbing just thinking about it.”
“Oh yea?” Kendrick began. “What would you do for a slice?”
“Suck the soul out of your dick.”
Kendrick pulled out his phone. “Think they deliver internationally?” Betsy tossed a wadded up tissue his way while laughing, missing completely.
I reached for a slice while saying “got those notes for me, Marshal?”
Marshal silently excused himself returning a minute later with a green spiral notebook. With the slice on a paper plate I took a seat and copied until my eyes blurred, hand ached, only to repeat the process with the other curriculum notes for a few hours until my bladder raged.
Getting lost on the way to the bathroom I stumbled upon a room with various musical instruments, mostly Les Paul guitars- all signed- along with a studio. Slash, Paul McCartney, Stevie Nicks, and an array of other signed guitars lined the wall next to photos with other big deal names in the business. I then remembered that Marshal’s father is a big time music producer.
Leaving and finally finding the bathroom I drained my main vein, washed up, and walked out. Turning left, I bumped into Denise who almost stumbled over herself. Grabbing onto a sleeve she managed to pull herself upright while moving too close for comfort.
“Can’t find a damn thing in this house.” She said through what sounded like embarrassed laughter.
“Tell me about it.”
We locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Finally I said “if you’re looking for the bathroom it’s around that corner.” Pointing behind me I smiled and wiggled away from her, rejoining the group who were now outside getting undressed and jumping into the pool or Jacuzzi.
That was my cue to call Charity. Looking at the time, a sigh escaped my throat. Too late. She’d be sleeping, and with the baby causing her to lose some I didn’t want to bother her.
“You wouldn’t be bothering me bubbie.” It was like she was in the room whispering it my ear that very moment. But turning around all I could see was Denise running outside and stripping down to her underwear while testing the Jacuzzi water with a big toe.
“Davenport get your ass out here and enjoy yourself. If Novak can come in so can you.”
“Yea dude c’mon. You need to relax. You always look tense.”
“Yea, which worries me cause with a cutie like Charity as your main squeeze how could you not be relaxed.”
“Yout two are fucking, aren’t you?”
Novak. The tone of his voice was condescending. What’s his deal? What’d I do to him to make him hate me so much?
“Get in here Star. The water is great.” Denise’s voice cut through my thoughts. We locked eyes again. Hers were filled with lust. I should have just remained inside but I found myself ripping my clothes off until just my boxers flapped in the wind as I cannonballed into the pool to cheers.
“Shit that’s cold. Fuck!” I said to the tune of laughter and splashes from Kendrick and Johnson while Marshal, Betsy, Denise and Novak lounged in the Jacuzzi.
The three of us swam from one end of the pool to the other with Johnson and I neck and neck and me winning by a hair.
“I expected nothing less from our starters. Gotta have stamina.” Kendrick said.
“I can go as long as my dick.” Johnson said.
“So two minutes?” Denise said. We all laughed.
“You wouldn’t be saying that if it were just us two.” Johnson said.
“The water is speaking for you.” Denise said while laughing and pointing at his crotch.
“C’mon that’s not right put that away bro.” Marshal said, laughing.
“Surprised anyone could find it.” Betsy said.
“Alright alright. To hell with all of you.” Johnson got out, toweled off, and went inside for another slice, returning outside twenty minutes later but this time entering the Jacuzzi which we all eventually did.
Marshal passed around a couple of joints which we all took hits from, not saying anything.
What seemed like hours passing someone finally said “Dude. We’re seniors. Like, after this, no more high school.”
“I don’t even wanna think about college.”
“Y’all know where you’re going?” Marshal’s voice.
“Think I might study abroad. Go back to Italy.” Betsy.
“Harvard is looking at me.” Novak.
A grunt, then “My father thinks I shouldn’t go. Wants me to wait for Yale.”
“He’s an alumni right?” Kendrick again.
“So is mine.” Denise.
“I know.” Novak.
“Going abroad sounds pretty sweet.” Johnson. “Wouldn’t mind seeing Paris for more than an afternoon.”
“Chase. What about you, dude?”
The voice didn’t reach me for what felt like forever. I turned to them. They were all looking at me.
“Weed hit you hard?” Kendrick.
Laughter. I joined in. Uncontrollable.
“I think I wanna go to Stanford. Parents went there.”
I could swear someone said “which ones?” I shot each of them a look but none were even glancing in my direction.
Several hours later in a fog of darkness I made my way to the restroom but got lost on the way back. On the trek I stumbled upon a flight of stairs heading down. At the base was a door. Behind the door was an artificial field with four batting cages with netted backings, and a mound in front of each. Next to each mound was a large white bin filled with baseball’s.
I could hardly contain myself. On what felt like the twentieth pitch a voice said “just can’t stay away from the game, huh?”
Denise. Her pj bottoms were tight. The tank top just as tight. She wore no bra; her nipple piercings prominently displayed.
I held a baseball tightly in my hand as she slowly approached.
I didn’t know what to say so remained silent as she moved her hands up my torso to my shoulders finally around my neck accompanied by a pounding erection I could hear.
A sigh. “What am I to do with you?” She said.
“You could start by respecting my boundaries.”
A hearty laugh echoed through the room. “C’mon Chase nobody’s around. We can stop dancing around this…this pulsating lust between us.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I tired to wriggle away again but she grabbed my crotch. “That’s not what your cock thinks.”
“Can you let go of my genitals, please.”
There was still a fuzziness from the drugs along with a growing headache from the alcohol. I thought about Charity and could feel my dick softening until an image of her in that tight black dress from the gala appeared, bringing it back.
A grin slivered across her lips. In a lust filled whisper she said “Your girlfriend doesn’t need to know.”
Just as her lips grazed my own I shoved her hard, knocking her to the ground. I ran. Didn’t know where I was heading but eventually found my way back to the guestroom where I grabbed my things and changed on the way to the garage where I hit the ignition and hightailed it onto the road, making it back to Manhattan and my own bed by three in the morning.