Authors: Criss Copp
Sally had
come around and hunched down beside me, reaching her arm around and squeezing
me tightly.
I stopped,
a small sob now escaping me.
“And you think
that because you like Blake taking charge saying some risqué things and even
being a little rougher than Jordan during sex, or at least the encounters
you’ve had with him, makes you some sort of sick monster... all because of our
past?” she asked me.
“Yes,” I
replied weakly.
“Honey...
that’s not what this is at all.”
She
began, “Look, I’m just going to go have a shower, change, and then I’ll meet
you on the couch in fifteen minutes, okay?” she implored me.
“Okay,” I
answered.
*
Sally came
out with an armload of novels.
She dumped
them on the coffee table and slumped into the couch beside me.
“What are
they?”
I asked.
“Romance novels.”
She said, smiling.
“Yuck!” I
groaned.
“Hold on...
and listen to me... because I know what you’re going through... I’ve been there
myself.” She explained, holding my hand back from reaching for the books.
She probably guessed I planned on throwing
them across the room.
“Okay, talk
to me.” I offered.
She spent
the next twenty minutes explaining that forced sex and exploitation, had
nothing to do with the act of intimacy... that in fact it was all about
aggression and control.
She explained
that those acts we... and she... experienced as children, were not consensual,
and they didn’t factor into love and sex associated with love.
Then she
grabbed one of the novels from the table, and shoved it in my hands.
“Okay, so
I’m hearing you about the difference between consent, and non-consent.
I even get that as long as nobody gets hurt
and the dominance doesn’t merge with everyday life, then
it’s
okay... not dirty!
But I fail to see the
relevance of this book.” I said rolling my eyes.
“A vast majority of women and men really love
the whole submissive thing.
What you
described is actually pretty, I don’t know... standard stuff.” She explained.
“Standard?”
I squeaked.
“Yep.”
She nodded.
“And what
do you want me to do with this book?” I asked... my lip curling.
“Read it.”
She said.
I groaned
again.
“Therapy
through romance?”
I grumbled.
“I like it!
Therapy through romance.”
She laughed.
“I think
I’m gonna throw up.” I grimaced.
Sally just
laughed.
She started neatly pilling up
the books, and gave me half of them.
“Come on
chicken... let’s set these up in your room.
All these books are best sellers... so you know they’ve been highly
successful with women everywhere.
So
assuming all those women and me, can’t be wrong...
you’ll be right on target to eliminate your
disgust!” She preached, collecting up the other half of the books and wandering
in the direction of my room.
*
F:
summer_chicken_
[email protected]
07
/25/11, 20:31
Re: Homework
Hey Blake,
I wanted to
call you, but my phone was flat.
I blame it
on Sal... not sure why, but I don’t want to blame myself... so I blame her.
I have it
on charge, so it should have enough charge later on if you care to call.
Sally has
me doing homework... and you won’t guess what it is.
NO... it’s
not housework.
IT’s...
Reading romance novels.
STOP
LAUGHING!!!
I know that
you’re pissing yourself laughing, and I’m laughing just writing this... but
please!
Who said homework was ever easy?
You see, I talked
to her today... I totally left you out of it... except for our intimate
encounters... she knows about those now.
She wasn’t surprised in the least.
She had a
lot to say... it made sense... so much sense that I feel really quite stupid
now.
She made
things sound so simple and easy... and I hate to say it... but you may have
been right about this.
Oh, and
then she threw a bunch of best selling romance novels at me and told me to read
them.
Her
argument is how can millions of women be wrong?
I seem to recall
this is an argument of religions the world over... and it hasn’t changed my
view on religion... they’re all nuts.
However, as
much as I hate to admit it... I’m almost half way through the first novel...
and it’s kind of sexy.
Oh well...
As always,
I’m missing you heaps.
Love you
Summer x
*
I was still
reading when my phone rang.
The screen
informed me the time was 10:30pm, and since I was sitting up in my bed I could
also see the caller ID was Blake.
I
scrambled across the small distance between my bed and the desk.
“Hello.” I
answered the call.
“Hey... got
your email...” Blake said sultrily.
“Good, but
you didn’t send one back.”
I sulked.
“I wanted
to phone you instead.” He replied.
I
smiled.
“So... Was
I right about you laughing or what?” I asked, grinning.
“Or
what...” he replied.
“No way...
you would’ve
found it a laugh.” I argued.
“It was
merely chuckle-worthy.”
He humphed.
“You did not just chuckle... you would’ve
almost peed in your pants.” I remonstrated.
“No,
seriously... I did chuckle... but I actually thought it was a good idea.” He
reasoned.
“Really?”
I queried.
“Really!”
he confirmed.
“Oh... why?”
I asked.
“Well,
you’ll have heaps of great ideas when you get home... you may even want to
practice on me.” He chuckled.
“Oh, now we
get to it.” I laughed.
“How do
these books make you feel?
All hot and
sweaty?” he growled.
I laughed,
“Sort of.” I replied.
“Not sweaty.”
“Yeah... I
suppose I’ll have to get you sweaty.” He said.
“Blake!” I
mocked shock.
He just
laughed heartily down the phone.
“I hope it
works,” he said sincerely.
“I mean, I
really, really do.”
“Me too.”
I conferred.
*
It was a
Monday... and Sal had a day off of work before she began a week of afternoon
shifts.
I’d spent
the entire weekend with Henry... we’d seen
the
Orioles
versus Yankees game on Saturday, and I know, I know... it was a big
game and all that... but I’m not that into baseball, but since Henry is, he
actually put on a good day; and since, as he put it... ‘
The Yankees
whipped Baltimore butt,’ ...he was in an exuberant
mood.
Today
however, was a girl’s day out.
Sally and I
were doing French at
Les
Patrie
Bistro
followed by a movie up on Broadway.
I had
ordered the Chicken Caesar salad, and Sally ordered a Cobb Salad.
“Summer?”
Sally asked.
“Yeah?”
I
replied, taking a sip of water.
“How’s
Blake?” she enquired brazenly.
“Good!” I
answered evasively.
“Just good?
Have you been talking to him?” Sally asked,
looking at me knowingly.
“Of course.”
I hedged.
“And?”
Sally quizzed.
“And... what?”
I asked, still avoiding her questions.
“God!
I
want to know if you’re feeling better about all that stuff!” Sally humphed
pensively.
I
giggled... “Are you asking me whether your therapy through romance reading
worked?” I asked, taking another sip.
“Yes!”
Sally fumed affectionately.
“Well... I
don’t know, but I don’t feel bad about things anymore... but then again, I
probably won’t know for sure until I tried... um... if you know what I mean?!”
I winked.
Sally
squealed... she actually squealed!
I
just looked at her like she was a mental case.
“You two
should definitely be together... and you know what?” she asked.
“What?” I
bit.
“I knew you
two were going to get together since that day you told me about your first
kiss.” Sally enthused.
Now I
laughed... a full throaty one.
“I’m going
to make you an appointment to see my gynecologist.” Sally said.
“Why?” I
queried.
“To get you
placed on the pill.” Sally explained.
“Oh... I
have always just used protection.” I argued, shaking my head.
“Well...
sometimes when it gets all hot and heavy, timing can go out the door.
I reckon you’re both probably clean... so the
biggest worry you’d have would be a pregnancy.” She reasoned.
“Oh...
kayyyy
!?”
I gave an incredulous look at her through my
glass of water as I began to take yet another sip.
Sally
pulled out her phone; she scrolled through the numbers and pressed the screen
on the one she desired.
“Hi
Jenny... Sally Rogerson here... yeah, I’m well, but I was wondering if you have
any cancellations or open appointments for my sister over the next couple of
weeks... yeah, I’ll hold.” She said into the phone.
She squinted at me with one of her face
smiles that she did when she was trying to appear cute... of course it just
made her look sly.
She waited
only a moment.
“Today?
Ummm... what time?” she asked, a disappointed look passing over her face.
“I’ll just ask her.” She said, and then
holding her phone to her chest she addressed me.
“3:45 this
afternoon?
We can do the movies another
day!
I ‘really’ think this is
important.” Sally winced.
I just did
the shrug and quizzical look you give someone, when you kind of don’t really
care and want them to make their own mind up about something.
“Yep...
we’ll be there!”
Sally confirmed.
She signed off with some inane banter, and I
sat there marveling at Sally’s ability to make me do things.
“We’ll do
some shopping instead shall we?” Sally enthused.
I smiled
mockingly at Sally, at around the same time as a woman, wearing a tailored
black pinstriped suit and stilettos, with a ruffled cream blouse spilling out
of her open jacket, approached our table.
“Sorry to
interrupt you both,” she began with a smile; she had a business card with her,
which she was presenting toward us as she spoke.
She was a beautiful woman, perhaps early
thirties, with a huge smile, flawless makeup and amazing crystal clear, sky
blue eyes, contrasting strongly with chestnut hair and pale skin.
“My name is
Peta Fletcher... I’m a model scout for
IMG
.
We’re located on Park Avenue.” She smiled,
like this should mean something to me.
Sally was breathing weirdly.
“I noticed
this young lady from where I was seated with my friend over in the corner, and
I just had to come over and introduce myself.” She enthused.
“Oh!” I
said.
Sally piped
up, “This is
Summer
, and I’m her sister Sally.” She
said, offering her hand and shaking Peta’s.
Peta seemed
genuinely friendly... I supposed she’d need to be, if she was selling things to
strangers.
Peta smiled at Sally
generously before turning back to me.