Chapter VII
by IndianAsian ©
I was screwed and knew it.
Tammy hung up on me every time I called her house and I had no intention of calling Lydia. The only good news was that Larry and his friends didn't return.
My thoughts were a jumble. I had been too intent on losing my virginity and too lax thinking about Tammy's feelings. I had put what I had with Tammy up at risk, and I lost her as a result.
I had also attempted to be noble and honest instead of listening to Billy -- he was right, I shouldn't have told Tammy about the picnic until I was sure where I stood with Lydia.
I had been stupid. I should have known something was hinky the way Lydia came on to me -- I'm no Cary Grant. Why did I do it? Why did Lydia pick me? Why did I give up the sure thing I had with Tammy?
Of course (and this was a little scary!), part of me was quite comfortable with the thought that getting laid for the first time had been worth all of it!
Two weeks after my little episode with Larry, I walked out of the store after work and saw a brand new Mustang parked next to my old Chevy. I only saw one head in the car and decided I'd like to meet Larry one-on-one. I had two weeks of being pissed at myself to work out on him.
When I got close, the car door opened and I tensed, waiting.
To my surprise, I watched as two curvy, tanned, long legs appeared. It was Tammy's sister, Jamie, looking very good in make-up, short white shorts, and a yellow summer blouse. She got right to the point.
"What's going on with you and Tammy, Brandon?" She used her normal, haughty, cold-bitch tone on me.
"Whatever it is, it isn't your business, Jamie." My voice took on a tone that even I didn't like, but I couldn't help being snitty in return. Even though I knew she could help me get back with Tammy, I couldn't control myself. She always brought out the worst in me. She was only two years older than me, but she acted like she was an adult and Tammy and I were children. She had gotten a good job in a law office after graduating from high school and she was now engaged to Richard. Richard was a fucking accountant -- twenty-seven years old and a little to the right of Attila the Hun politically -- who probably didn't take off his glasses in bed. Jamie knew for a fact that her life was perfect and the rest of us were lucky to know her.
"It *IS* my business when she sulks around the house and cries herself to sleep every night for two weeks. What did you do to her, you bastard?"
"I'm sorry she's so upset. I've called. I tried to talk to her. She hangs up on me."
"Why didn't you come to the house?"
"What, and run into you or your father before Tammy slammed the door in my face? Forget it. Go home, Jamie. Mind your own business."
"Fine, be a hard-nose, Brandon. Forget I stopped by. I came by to say that if you had any nerve, you'd follow me to the house. Our parents are away and I'm going out with Richard. You two would be alone to talk it out."
I was touched, but my pride spoke first, "I don't think so."
I got in my car. By the time I turned the ignition, Jamie's car was pulling off the lot with a squeal of tires. "Bitch!" I thought. But, when I got to the street, instead of turning left and heading south to home, I made a right hand turn. In ten minutes I was parked down the street from Tammy's house. After Jamie and Richard pulled off (in his practical, 4-door Plymouth sedan), I rolled down the street and stopped in front of the house.
I climbed up the steps and rang the doorbell.
The door swung open and Tammy was standing there. She looked great, even though she had white powder on her face and hands -- she must have been baking. She was surprised, no, shocked, to see me. She just stood there and stared.
"Tammy..." I wasn't sure what to say before she slammed the door in my face.
"Oh, Brandon!"
And then she was in my arms and things were on their way to getting a lot better, fast.
I helped her clean the kitchen and make some coffee. We talked as we worked. I apologized and I told her everything that had happened and why I did what I did. I even told her that I had been a virgin.
"Brandon, if you hadn't been such a bastard doing what you did, I'd almost feel sorry for you. She used you to hurt her boyfriend and if you hadn't let your penis do your thinking for you, you would have seen what was going on. How could you be so dumb?"
"I think you just answered that question. I let the wrong head make the wrong decision!" I smiled a weak smile.
"Cute. Are you trying to charm your way back into my life?"
"Will it work? I've missed you terribly, Tammy."
"And I've missed you. But I'm still pissed at you. So pissed, I'd like to smack you. I still can't believe you'd do that with another girl!"
We sat at the kitchen table, eating her still-warm chocolate-chip cookies, and talked and talked. She was angry and she let me know it. I knew I deserved it, and as I listened to her, I just kept hoping we could get back to where we were before the picnic. When the coffee was gone, we moved to the sofa.
I leaned down to kiss her.
"No. I'm not done being mad at you, Brandon. You really hurt me."
Part of me felt like a scolded child and was getting tired of being yelled at. That part of me wanted it over so we could move on. The other part of me could see the tremendously hurtful thing I had done to Tammy. As I listened I shuddered, thinking how I would feel if she had done the same to me. I stood up and reached for her hand.
"I'd better go, Tammy. I've listened to everything you've said and I can't argue with any of it. But, I can't go back and undo any of it. All I can do is tell you how sincerely sorry I am and promise that it will never, never happen again as long as we are together. You have my number and if and when you're ready, you can call me and we can talk. I want to get back together, Tammy, but if we can't, I'll understand."
She stood up and followed me to the door. We hugged and I kissed her forehead, her cheeks. She patted my cheek a few times, and then she slapped me -- I mean she really hauled off and slapped me! I think we were both surprised.
"Oh, Brandon! I'm so, so sorry! I didn't mean to do that! Honest!"
"`S okay. I deserved it. I'll be waiting to hear from you."
"What, you expect me to sit home ANOTHER summer night? Oh, no, mister, you don't get off that easily. Do you work tomorrow?"
"Yeah, but I'm done at six." I liked where this conversation was going.
"Take me to a movie?"
"Sure! There's a Clint Eastwood at the Lincoln."
"No, Brandon. Not a drive-in. I want to go to a real theater, where we walk in, sit down and watch a movie in air-conditioned comfort and eat a big bucket of buttered popcorn. And we keep our clothes on longer than the coming attractions!" She was having trouble not laughing, and looking so pretty doing it.
"Geeze, you drive a hard bargain, girl. But it's a deal." My ear was ringing and my cheek was on fire from the slap, but I was smiling.
"You know? I really do feel better now. Maybe I did mean to slap you!"
I rubbed my cheek and shook my head, "You had your one swing at me, Tammy. I don't think I'll be giving you reason to take another."
I leaned down to kiss her and her lips met mine and parted and our tongues touched. Things were getting better fast.