Read Yearbook Online

Authors: David Marlow

Yearbook (25 page)

“What?!” Corky couldn’t believe it.

“I’ve got that dumb basketball game in Valley Stream tonight.”

“Oh, crap. Forgot about it.”

“Why don’t you come along, Corky? I’m sure there’d be room on the bus … .”

“No thanks. If I’m not playing, it’s no fun.”

“What about Ro-Anne?”

“Away for the weekend.”

“I’m sorry, Corky. Jeez, any other time…”

“Sure. Sure.”

“No. I mean it.”

“Right. Hope it’s a good game, kid.”

Corky hung up and stared at the phone. Saturday night. What the hell was he going to do? He dialed
411
—wrote down the requested information and hung up.

Forget it. The ball of crumpled paper sailed across the room into the trash. Two points.

Corky walked to the window and stared into the gray yard. He stretched and yawned and then went back to the desk and retrieved the discarded paper. Before he could change his mind again, he placed the call.

THIRTY-THREE
 

“Hi Irs ME Corky!”

Amy was stunned. “Hello.”

“There are a couple of monster flicks at the Midstate tonight. Thought maybe you’d like to see them.”

“Sounds like fun,” she said without hesitation.

“I’ll drop by …seven-thirty.”

Amy hung up and screamed out her joy. Flinging open her closet, she frantically searched for something to wear. Thank God her parents were away on their winter vacation. Evelyn would have been impossible.

Too excited to think straight, she called Guy. “Which do you think would be better … a pleated skirt with knee socks or a two-piece green and white polka-dot job?”

“No idea.”

“I’ve got terrific legs.”

“Then by all means wear them. What’s it for?”

Amy was blase. “Nothing much. Going to a drive-in tonight with Corky.”

Guy was amazed. “Tonight?”

“That’s right!” she sang.

“Lucky girl.” He didn’t dare tell her he’d turned down the same offer not three minutes ago.

“I know it’s kind oflast minute and all, still …”

“Don t be silly.” Guy would make her feel better. “I happen to know Ro-Anne’s away for the weekend. He probably waited for her to leave before calling.”

Amy’s voice was suddenly small. “You think so?”

“Sure.”

“Yippee
. And thank God my parents are still in the Holy Land.”

“Israel?” Guy asked.

“Miami Beach. Oh, Guy, I’m so excited, so excited. If you only knew …”

Guy knew.

Corky called for Amy in chinos, heavy sweater and team jacket.

Amy had opted for the mid-calf-length, green-and-white polka-dot outfit.

“A little dressy for the movies,” he said, walking in.

Rats! Knew I should have worn the pleated skirt.
“I’ve never been to a drive-in. I could change. “

“ Don’t bother. Get your coat.
I Was a Teen-age Werewolf
awaits.”

Amy found both films boring.

Mesmerized, Corky could not be distracted.

Why doesn’t he talk to me? she asked herself. Even I’m more interesting than this crummy movie. Look at him sitting there, radiating waves of gorgeousness. What am I doing here? Maybe I should snuggle next to him? Too forward. Offer to go get more popcorn? Too servile. I’ll say something bright, something to remind him there are still two of us in the car. No. This one doesn’t go for smart-ass ladies. Okay, relax. Calm yourself. Stop scheming and just watch the movie. If passion is going to strike, let it be spontaneous, through Kismet.

Amy looked to the screen and sighed deeply.
I should live so long!
The second feature ended and hundreds of headlights flooded the area. Horns honked. Corky started his car.

“Well?” Amy asked, returning the sound box and heater to the stand. “What’d you think?”

Corky yawned. “I don’t like movies if they’re not in color. You?”

“I think I’d like to be a vampire.”

They drove to a seedy Carvel stand outside town. While Corky waited in line she waited in the car, wondering if he wasn’t going out of his way not to be seen with her. She quickly dismissed it as inse-

curity, telling herself he just wouldn’t want word getting back to Ro-Anne that he’d been spotted with someone else.

After a round of frozen milk shakes, they drove home. It was eleven-thirty.

“Want to come in?” she asked at the door, her head swimming with expectations of rejection. “Have some tea or something?”

“Your parents asleep?”

Taking her time, Amy said it slowly. “My parents are in Florida.”

They lay together on the couch. A tepid teapot remained untouched on the candlelit coffee table.

Her top was unbuttoned and her bra unhooked. He’d taken off his sweater and the buttons of his shirt were undone to his waist.

They kissed for a long time while he inched his hands up from the bottom of her skirt to the back of her soft thighs.

Eventually, he talked her into taking off both her polka-dot blouse and her Maiden-form bra.

She didn’t mind. She was prepared to do anything for him; whatever he wanted. Anything to please.

Corky examined her breasts. “They’re small… but they’re pretty.”

When they kissed again, Corky dropped his chinos to his knees. Leaning back, he lowered his shorts. Amy was petrified, and enthralled, by the sight of his nakedness. The light from the candle silhouetted his strong physique.

“I want you to do something for me,” he whispered.

“I’ll try,” she whispered back in a shaky voice.

Corky circled his hand around his erection. “You know.”

That?
Amy reeled in alarm. “Oh, no, I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s awful.”

“It’s not awful. Come on, Amy.”

“Please. I don’t want to.”
What would he think of me?

“You’ll enjoy it.”

“I won’t. It’s too ugly.”

“It’s not. Kiss it.”

Kiss it?
Was he crazy? Girls just didn’t go around kissing boys’ stiff you-know-whats. My God!

Corky applied a slight pressure to the back of her neck. Gently he lowered her face. “Go on,” he encouraged her. “Kiss it. Do it for me, Amy.”

“It’s dirty,” Amy whimpered from below. “Please, put it away.”

Corky sighed impatiently. “Don’t be silly, it’s not dirty … .”

Amy touched the object inches from her nose.
Would he maybe like me more?

“Go on, Amy. It wants you to. Look how it grows when you touch it. Go on. Do it. It’ll prove how much you care.”

Amy closed her eyes tight and kissed the head of his resilient erection.
See how much I care?

It responded, rising upward in an arc. “That’s nice. Ooh, is that nice. Do it again.”

“No,” she pleaded. What was this, anyway? In all her love stories, Jane Austen had never once said a thing about cock-sucking.

“Again, Amy. Please.” Placing a firm hand behind her neck, he eased her face downward.

“No more!”

“Once more,” he coaxed.

“No. It’s perverted.”

“It’s not perverted. It feels great. Go on, Amy. Please. Kiss it for me.”

“No. It tasted terrible!” she complained.

Corky cradled her face in his hands. “What’d it taste like?”

“Talcum powder.”

Corky smiled, raised her head and kissed her. “Okay, let’s go to your room.”

She carried in their discarded clothing. A light from outside fed through Venetian blinds, outlining their bodies as Corky’s hands roamed all over her and in the process removed the rest of her clothing.

Almost. “Take off that damn girdle, will you?” he demanded after floundering for nearly five minutes.

Amy excused herself and hurried into the bathroom.

Alone, Corky found his pants and took the Trojan out of his wallet. “Women!” he breathed before yelling to the door. “You don’t even need a girdle. You got a great ass!”

Smiling, Amy wiggled it in the bathroom. At least he noticed.

She came back to him in a pair of white cotton panties. “Better?”

“Much.”

He dropped to his knees and planted his mouth in the middle of her panties.

Disoriented, she placed her hands on his shoulders. It was all too foreign, too new. She wasn’t ready for such intimacy, and pushed him away. Laughing, he fell backward, landing on his rear. Then with a smile he stood and removed his shirt, took off his pants and shorts. He went to her in sweat socks.

Pushing her thighs apart with his knees was not easy. Amy was rigid.

“I don’t think we should,” she whispered. “I have to be a virgin for my husband.”

“Balls.”

“It means a lot to me.”

“Don’t be dumb. You’re gonna marry some Leonard Hauser asshole and
you U
have to
show him
the ropes.”

“You’re repulsive.”

“Might as well learn from the master.” He kissed her breast.

Amy erupted, pushing violently against his shoulders.

He grabbed her straining hands, easing her back. “Hey, cool it. Settle down. Virginity’s no big deal. Just do what other girls do.”

“And what’s that?”

“Lie, “ said Corky, circling her nipple with his tongue.

Amy stared at the ceiling. “I can’t lie to myself.”

“Don’t be so damn self-righteous.” He massaged her thigh. “You want to, don’t you?”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

Corky arched up, supported by his hands, and looked into her eyes. “Sweetheart, that has
everything
to do with it.”

There was no arguing with him. Amy was in silent accord.

“Now relax.” He sucked in his words as he spoke. “Do as I tell you. Relax with your legs.” While looking at her, he slipped on the rubber.

Please be careful, she thought. Don’t hurt me. Go slow. Please. She closed her eyes in anticipation and grabbed the sides of the sheets. Remember everything, she told herself. Every detail. She wanted to preserve the experience, savor and cherish this, her first real moment with love.

Corky tried pushing his way in. Nothing.

His erection in hand, he forced it slowly against her and met only with frightened resistance. “Relax,” he whispered soothingly.

“Loosen up.”

“I’m a virgin,” Amy whimpered.

“I know. Just relax. Relax and try to love me.”

Easy. Oh yes. Yes, / Zove you.

Releasing the sheets, she threw her arms around his waist, hugging him tight. Make him care, she told herself. It’s not right if he doesn’t care. Make him love you.

“Love me!” she cried out. “Tell me you love me!”

Corky brought his face close to hers. “I love you,” he whispered.

Amy softened.

Corky eased his way in slowly, forward and up.

Lost to a new and strange intensity, Amy ignored the drops of blood staining the sheets. She had never felt so much warmth and comfort. So much love.

It’s not what I imagined, she told herself. But it’s no disappointment, either.

As Corky escalated his thrusts into a calculated rhythm she stared into his eyes, thinking only of how much she loved him.

He looked down at her and with each motion tried reaching further inside. When he wasn’t thinking of other breasts, other faces, he was aroused seeing how excited she was by what he was giving.

THIRTY-FOUR
 

CORKY WOKE UP
, startled. “We slept too long. Damn it. Knew that would happen.”

Amy opened her eyes and looked at the clock. Four-thirty.

“I got to get out of here!” he said, pulling his clothes together. “Hope my old lady didn’t wait up for me. She does sometimes. Isn’t that crazy?”

Amy slipped into her bathrobe. “You want something before you go? Tea? Coffee?” God, she sounded like Evelyn.

Corky struggled into his socks. “No thanks.”

Amy rushed into the bathroom. “Milk?” she called into the other room as she quickly brushed her hair and rinsed some toothpaste.

“Nothing.” He pulled his sweater over his head and started for the front door.

Hurrying out of the bathroom, she followed him. “Are you all right? I mean, if you’re too tired to drive, you can spend the night.”

“Nope. Gotta go. Thanks for everything. “

“I had the best time.”

Corky kissed her cheek.

She took his hand. “Can we do this again?”

He pulled free. “Hold on a minute. We’re getting our signals crossed. I like you a lot. I do. You know that. You got a terrific personality and—”

Amy took a step back.

“Now just a minute.” He held her hand. “Don’t be so touchy. I mean, I’m practically engaged. “

Amy pointed to the bedroom. “What about…”

Corky cupped her chin in his hand and shook his head. “And you’re supposed to be the smart one. Hey, it’s late. Don’t you see it’s late? I gotta run!”

He opened the door, smiled, winked, waved and left.

Chuck Troendle called the next day. “Hey, C-man! I guess you’ll do anything for money.”

“ What’re you talking about?”

“Have a good time?”

“When?”

“Come on, sneaky Pete. Fess up. Me and Jenkins saw you two lovebirds last night at the Carvel stand.”

Goddamn. “Not me!”

Chuck ignored the denial. “Well, how was she, killer?”

“If you or Jenkins leak one word of this …”

“Hold your britches, hotshot. Don’t worry about us. It’s our dates who’ll do any blabbing. They’re Ro-Anne’s friends. Now tell all. Do I owe you another ten or not?”

Corky said nothing.

“Zombie Silverstein. Jesus, you must really have been hard up! How’d you get past the acne?”

Tapping on the phone, Corky finally said, “Keep your money, wise-ass. She wouldn’t let me near her. I conked out on the couch.”

After a weekend apart, Corky and Ro-Anne had no trouble making up for lost time. Kissy-face and huggy-bear and she missed him, no he missed her… they’d never part again and that was a promise!

Rather than have it get back to her first, Corky told Ro-Anne about his Saturday night date with Amy, confiding he’d asked her out on a bet but please not to tell anybody.

Ro-Anne waited a full two hours before calling several girl friends. She had to tell
someone
. “Oh, that Corky … anything for a laugh

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