D Cup Blues Again

"Someone ought to tell Valerie she's okay," Dave said.

"You do it, Dave, I can't." Audrey started the car.

"No, I will," Maureen said, and she dug her phone out of her purse. With Dave in the back seat and Audrey's eyes on the road, neither of them saw that she only pretended to tap out a message, with the phone turned off. All of them knowing she was still on duty at Sally's, there was nothing to read into the fact that she didn't respond.

Caryn only missed one day of school, and spent most of that day protesting to her mother that she felt well enough to go to school. "You heard the doctor, Mom, nothing but bruises and scratches!" she said as they pulled up at home late that morning.

"You didn't do last night's homework anyway, did you?" her mother pointed out. "And I also heard the doctor say you ought to take it easy for at least another day. You heard that too."

"I just -- I feel like Rick won!" Caryn grumbled.

"He didn't. He's been arrested, and they won't let him out on bail again." Claire had spent most of the previous evening on the phone with the police. "And that's another reason for you to stay home today. The cops have to interview you."

"I guess if it'll help put him away," Caryn allowed.

As her mother unlocked the front door and stood aside for Caryn to enter, she couldn't resist: "Since when do you love school so much anyway?"

"Mother! Can't you see I've grown up?" Instinctively Caryn looked down at the breasts she still wished were smaller, and she burst out laughing.

"It is about time you stop trying to hide those," her mother said.

"I didn't mean these! I meant my grades! I mean, I almost got into Berkeley!"

"Caryn, of course I've noticed that, and I'm very proud of you." She closed the door behind them. "But not everything has changed. Is it that you just have to see David again? Remember you are going to be living three thousand miles apart after August, Caryn."

"Not just him." Caryn eased herself gingerly onto the couch, then immediately stood back up and unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. "The others, too. We're all going our separate ways pretty soon, and every day we have left is sacred."

No sooner had Caryn settled herself back on the couch than her mother gave her a stern look and shook her head. "I told you the cops are coming over, Caryn. You can't sit around with your pants hanging open."

"They're too tight on the swelling!" Caryn rubbed her right hip, which had borne the brunt of her fall on the pavement.

"Either zip up or put on a skirt. I won't have you sitting around like that."

Caryn knew better than to reason with her mother if she wanted to get any rest for the afternoon. Gingerly she stood back up and shuffled off to her bedroom. Returning a few minutes later in a long pale green skirt, she grumbled, "Even at home, I feel like an impostor dressed like this."

"I'd rather you feel like an impostor than a bully, Caryn. Especially not now that it's gotten you in real trouble."

"I'm no bully!" Caryn protested as she sat back down, remembering a second too late that she hadn't smoothed her skirt out first -- she was not at all used to such things.

"Caryn, do you really think I never heard of your reputation at school?" her mother asked, helping herself to a seat on the couch beside her. "I do talk to your teachers now and then, after all."

"If they told you I was a bully, they're part of the problem!" Caryn was humiliated, but defiant. "I've never once hit anyone who didn't deserve it. Never!"

"Yes, well, some teachers believe in zero tolerance, others are just stupid," her mother said. "But either way, you're a woman now. You can't go on thinking 'boys don't hit girls' applies to you anymore. It was only a matter of time before you crossed paths with a boy who didn't see it that way anyway."

"I already figured that about Rick," Caryn admitted, wondering if her mother also knew what had happened with Rick after the homecoming game last fall. Probably not, she reasoned; what mother would keep that to herself?

"I'm very proud of you for washing your hands of him, Caryn, and I'm certainly happy you're with David now. I told him he could come see you after school, incidentally. But, look, you're off to California in the fall, and you know why people go out there, don't you?"

"To make a fresh start." That had been very much Caryn's design all along, but she had intended to keep the macho part of her personality.

"Exactly. No one is saying you have to start acting like a Disney princess, but it is time you stop acting like a tough guy, too. Understood?"

Caryn took another look down at her breasts. "It gets harder every day to feel like a tough guy with these," she admitted. Then she allowed a laugh.

"You don't have to love them either," her mother said with a wry smile. "But I do wish you'd stop hating them, at least."

"I'm starting to," Caryn admitted. She hadn't sensed much of her old friend the "I WEAR A 38-D" sign above her head lately as her acceptance of her bra size was finally growing. But it did still flare up now and then -- including right now. As usual, the happy memory of Dave playing with them dimmed it somewhat; but as usual, it also got her a little wet. There was nothing to be done about that in her mother's presence, of course.

"All I'm saying, Caryn, is it's time you find something else to define who you are, all right? You're a very intelligent young woman, and you can do a lot more for yourself than being known for hitting boys."

"I never hit a boy who didn't deserve it!" Caryn snapped again. "Don't you believe that, Mom?"

"Of course I do." Her mother leaned over and kissed her cheek, and got up to make lunch. "But I know you. Not everyone does."

The one time Caryn enjoyed being in a skirt was in Dave's presence. There was a certain bemused look it always gave him that he probably wasn't even aware of. Once again he had it when he came to see her a few hours later, bearing a single red rose. "Oh, come on!" Caryn said. "You didn't have to do that!"

"But I wanted to," he said, handing it to her. Then he thought better of it. "Why don't you sit back down and I'll put it in water?"

"I can do it!" Caryn said. "Please let me, okay? My mom wouldn't let me off the couch there until she went back to work, and even then I think she wanted me to just sit there and do my homework." Remembering whom she was talking to, she added, "Which I did! I was just finishing up my Spanish."

"¿Necesitas estudiar más?"

"It can wait." Caryn dipped the rose in a drinking glass and cut the stem off underwater, the way she'd always seen her mother do. "And you didn't come over here to watch me try to memorize verbs." She turned around and hugged Dave. "Mom told me you guys all waited at the hospital. Thank you."

"I'm sorry they wouldn't let us in to see you."

"She told me all about it. I must be the only girl in school whose mother loves her boyfriend as much as I do!"

Dave laughed. "Thanks, I think."

"Oh, it's a good thing." She kissed him and then held him quietly for a few moments.

"I'm so relieved you're all right," Dave said.

"You know what was worst about the whole thing? Except getting hit, of course?"

"Talking to the cops, I'll bet."

"That wasn't so bad. They just sat in there and asked me some questions, and reassured me he won't be getting out again before his trial. Any luck, that'll be after I go to California." She pulled back. "Dave, did you know my mom knew all about my reputation? For hitting boys?"

"I didn't tell her, if that's what you're thinking."

"I know you didn't!" Caryn let him go and set off back for the living room. "But someone did. I guess it really doesn't matter who, it's just that all these years she never told me."

"Maybe she was proud of you for not taking shit from anyone?" Dave suggested.

"Good answer!" Caryn sat back on the couch and picked up her Spanish textbook and notebook to set on the end table. After a moment's silence while Dave sat down beside her, she added, "Maybe that is it. I don't know. But it's just...geez, this is who I've been for so long, until these past few months! First these" -- she grabbed at her breasts -- "and then you, and now I find out my biggest secret was never a secret in the first place! Who the heck am I?"

"A smart and beautiful and strong young woman with great taste in guys?"

Dave laughed, and Caryn joined in and snuggled up against him. "Another great answer! It's just...I don't know, is this what growing up feels like?"

"I can't tell any better than you can," Dave said. "But you didn't really want to go through the rest of your life exactly like you were in eighth grade, did you?"

"Course not," Caryn allowed. "I guess I just wish I knew just what I ought to do next." Seeing his eyes wander down to her bare legs, she added, "And don't say 'start wearing dresses every day!'"

They both laughed, and Dave said, "Okay, I won't say it. But you know, you do look great when you don't dress like a tomboy."

"Dave!"

"Seriously! Don't you feel a little different, at least?"

Caryn thought about it. "I have to admit I do. It is kind of a kick wearing something a little different. Just don't tell Audrey I said that. She always teases me when I wear anything but jeans and a sweatshirt."

Dave chuckled. "I won't. I can just imagine." He leaned back up close to her again, quiet and content.

Caryn had never forgotten her earlier longing, which she'd been forced to ignore with her mother -- and later the cops -- always present. She had, in any event, kept her wonderful secret from them, and she had no desire to keep it from Dave. She leaned in and pecked playfully at his ear. "Mom won't be home until six, you know," she said.

"Are you feeling up to that?"

"I've asked, haven't I?' Caryn said. "I'm feeling lucky to be alive. We ought to celebrate!" She reached down and pulled her skirt up with both hands, to reveal that she wasn't wearing panties. "Mom told me to put on a skirt, but she didn't tell me to wear anything under it!" she giggled.

"Oh, Caryn..." The look on Dave's face wasn't the elated one she was used to when he saw her pussy.

"What?! That wasn't injured!"

"No, but look at what was!" He was eyeing the angry bruise on her thigh. "I'm so sorry!"

"It'll heal. Just don't touch it for now."

"I wouldn't want to brush it by accident," Dave said. Then he smiled and, to Caryn's titillation, he turned his attention back between her legs. "I have an idea. Scoot up to the edge and spread your legs." He took his glasses off.

"Don't you want to be able to see me?" Caryn said, while doing as instructed. She felt deliciously vulnerable.

"I will be able to, up close," he said, and he slid off the couch and settled himself between her thighs.

"Dave! You've never even -- aieee!" There were no more words as she drank in the delicious sensation of his lips in and around her pussy. No boyfriend had ever gone down on her before, and she'd never even thought of asking sweet, innocent Dave. That's what you get for assuming, she admonished herself as he drove her wild and had her squirming all over the sofa cushion. She rubbed his head affectionately, always at the ready to pull him back in if he dared let up.

But he didn't let up. Caryn squealed and laughed and wiggled around and grabbed fiercely at his hair at the most intense licks, but through it all he didn't let up. Caryn ground her hips into his face as hard as she could without jostling her injuries, which proved to be enough as she soon felt the point of no return approaching. When it had arrived, she pulled his head in as tightly as she could and tilted her head back to savor the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced.

"Ohmygod, Dave! Incredible!" As she caught her breath, she returned to stroking his hair gently. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Never tried before," Dave said, as Caryn had hoped he would - she did not want to have to imagine his one prior girlfriend, Michelle of accursed memory, enjoying his tongue like that. "But the time seemed right," he added. "Welcome to adulthood?"

"Or something like it," Caryn allowed.

With a final kiss on her vulva, he got to his knees and climbed back onto the couch. "Pretty sure they won't let you graduate from Vassar without knowing how to do that," he joked.

Caryn laughed, then ordered him to go wash his face before she'd let him kiss her again.

Loath as Caryn was to admit her mother was getting through to her, she did wear a more feminine outfit than usual to school the next day. The loose knit top was perfect for the warm weather, although terrible at hiding her two troublesome secrets underneath. But the "I WEAR A 38-D" was outshone for once by an "I JUST GOT HIT BY A CAR" sign that had everyone wishing her well all morning. Taking one step at a time, she did wear pants.

"Glad you're okay, Caryn," Valerie said when she arrived at lunch that day. "You'll be happy to know the others here didn't even tell me until lunch yesterday."

"Val, we talked about this!" Audrey snapped.

"Yeah, Maureen told us she'd told you!" Dave said. "Maybe the SMS didn't go through? Was your phone turned off?"

"No, and I still haven't gotten anything from her since before the accident." Valerie took her phone out of her purse, ready to show anyone who doubted her.

"Where is Maureen?" Caryn was herself a few minutes late because her AP government teacher had detained her to offer her support in the case against Rick, and she was surprised not to be the last one to their table.

"Oh, no," Dave said, turning to look over in the corner. Sure enough, there was Maureen at the misfits' table with Scott and his buddies. Tom had also joined them.

"She didn't tell you on purpose, I bet," Audrey said when she saw where Maureen was. "God, can't she just get over it?"

"Get over what?" Valerie asked.

"She's jealous of me," Caryn said, gesturing at Dave.

"So much for a last summer together," Audrey said.

Caryn's bruises and Maureen's resentment were both gone in time for the prom in early June. On Monday of prom week, Maureen ventured to their table for the first time since the accident. "I didn't actually quite apologize," she told Scott in her family's finished basement, over iced teas into which they'd sliipped a little of her mother's rum. "I just asked, hey, can I join you? And they all looked at each other and shrugged, and Valerie asked what took you so long? Then it was all like the whole thing hadn't happened."

"I wish Dave would do that for me," Scott said.

"If you're looking for clues, I haven't got any," Maureen said. "But I do know he thinks you don't believe him, about not being happy about Brad."

"I don't," Scott said. "But I can forgive that if he'd forgive me already. "I just want one honest conversation with him like old times, before we go away."

"That's why I decided to brave getting chewed out about not messaging Valerie," Maureen admitted, wincing on the bitter taste of the tea. She'd never liked the few tastes of alcohol she'd had before and she still didn't like it now, although she did enjoy the pleasant fog she was starting to feel herself fading into.

Scott switched hands with his drink, and put his icy hand on Maureen's knee. "And you know what else I want just once before we go away," he said with a hopeful grin that had yet to get him anywhere with her.

"I'm not that drunk, Scott," Maureen said. She let him keep his hand where it was, but didn't respond in any other way.

"Just once, please?" Scott rubbed her knee a little harder, and at least his hand felt less cold now. "Almost four months we've been together now! And you don't want to be a virgin in New York, do you?!"

"It's nobody's business if I am or not!" Maureen took a long sip of her tea, unsure if she wanted to stop or get outright drunk at this point; at least it might make things move along.

"But don't you want to go in there with some experience?" Scott drank down the last of his tea, and with both hands now free he dared one on her back, where Maureen was excruciatingly aware of him tracing her bra the way he so loved to do. "And don't you want something to remember this semester by?"

"Scott!" It took Maureen every ounce of resolve she had not to spill the beans about her true feelings - or the complete lack thereof - for him. But a sicky sweet image of Caryn and Dave together at the prom roared through her mind, and she held her tongue. "We don't need to have sex for me or you to remember this," she said. "You know that."

"But why don't you want to?" Scott whined. "Four months, Maureen! Why not?"

At that moment, Maureen, tipsy for the first time in her life, discovered in vino, veritas. "It's Brad, all right?" She leapt to her feet and ran her hands through her long hair in frustration. "Dave is one of my four best friends in my entire life, and your best friend abused him all through eighth grade!"

"That is how Dave became your friend in the first place," Scott pointed out.

"Oh, fuck you! Look, I'm sorry your friend killed himself, but he was an absolute monster to my friend! And you encouraged him, Scott! If Brad thought for one minute he'd lose you if he didn't stop picking on Dave, he would've stopped. That's all it would've taken! But I heard you laughing at his insults, taking his side, abandoning Dave in the cafeteria!" She paced back and forth across the ancient oriental rug between the couch and the television, her fists clenched in rage. "How can you expect me to want to give you my virginity when you treated my best friend like that?!"

"I'm...sorry." Scott looked at the floor and took a deep breath. "But look, I don't expect you or especially Dave to understand this, but Brad had redeeming qualities, all right? You knew us in grade school! Who else was there? Not Dave, we didn't know him yet!" His voice was shaking, and he stood up just as abruptly as Maureen had. "Excuse me."

Maureen paused in her pacing and watched silently as Scott rushed off to the bathroom and slammed the door. It wasn't a soundproof door, and she could hear him crying - something she hadn't even witnessed right after that terrible weekend in April.

His sobs rang out louder than he could know or than she could ever want to hear. It was no use for Maureen to ignore him; there was no escaping his anguished wails. His admonishment - "You knew us in grade school!" - hung heavy in the air, and Maureen had to admit he was right. She had known them in grade school.

Then she remembered. She hadn't seen Scott cry after Brad died, but she had seen him cry once before.

She couldn't remember what grade it was at Linden Street Elementary. Probably fifth, since Caryn and Valerie and Audrey were already hounding her for help with math, and she was already smart enough to give it in return for being let into their clique - although she wouldn't know that word for years to come. That was, Maureen believed, also the first year they'd staked out the spot behind the oak tree just beyond the kickball diamond, with Caryn routinely making good on her threat to deck any boy who tried to horn in on their territory. It was the only place where Valerie could sneak her mother's cigarettes without the teachers ever seeing, though Maureen couldn't help but think now that they must have smelled the smoke on her clothes.

In any event, Valerie hadn't yet been caught on that day in early spring, when the four of them were knocking around the far side of the oak tree. The boys weren't bugging them for once, as they were all busy with a furious round of kickball. Maureen was more than happy to leave them to it.

Caryn, already bigger and taller than most of the boys, wasn't. "I could kick most of their asses if they'd let me play," she grumbled. "What are boys afraid of anyway?"