Gaming: D&D Pt. 02

It was true. Yes, if I saw an attractive girl, I wanted to have sex with her. Of course I did! But my virginity was becoming ... an issue, with me. I wanted my first time to be special - with a girl I loved, that I was in love with. I imagined that the very first time I made love with someone would be something that I would remember forever.

I tried to explain this to Nate.

- "You're a love junkie." he said.

- "A what?"

- "If a beautiful woman invited to have hot, passionate sex with her - you'd have to think it over. You'd have to figure out if you were 'in love' with her, first."

- "Well ..." There was a grain of truth in that.

- "Meanwhile, you go through your days wanting to be in love - or at least 'crushing' on somebody. You're a romantic - in both senses of the word." he said.

I had no idea what that meant. I had to go look it up.

***

Dad really came through for me. He had the car washed, inside and out, before he loaned it to me for my prom. He also took me to a men's clothing store, and had me fitted for my first 'adult' suit. Then he surprised me by covering half of the cost.

- "Thanks, Dad." I said, still a bit shocked.

- "Hey - you've been looking after Cherie and the house for me - don't think I haven't noticed." he said. "I owe you one. Besides - I want you to have a good time."

Armed with a corsage, I drove over to Parvani's house. Simran opened the door.

- "Hey Ian - you look great." she said. I didn't feel great - I thought I looked like a dork in a clown suit. But it was nice of Simran to try to put me at ease. "Parvani! He's here!" she called out.

When my date came out, my jaw dropped. Parvani was wearing a red dress, a fairly snug little number that hugged her curves. It also showed a modest amount of cleavage.

Parvani's long black hair had been lovingly, painstakingly brushed until it practically shone. I imagine her mother must have done it. Mrs. D. was standing behind her daughter, smiling proudly. She had also fixed a beautiful flower into Parvani's hair.

But that wasn't the biggest surprise. Parvani wasn't wearing glasses. Those big, ugly spectacles were gone.

- "Contacts?" I wondered aloud.

Parvani nodded, shyly.

- "You look ... amazing." I said. "You have beautiful eyes."

- "Thank you." she mumbled.

Parvani was still a few pounds too heavy, and self-conscious in the extreme about her braces. But done up like this, with her hair down, and the contact lenses ... I didn't have to pretend to be impressed.

Simran and her mother were beaming. Mr. D. took me aside, to give me final instructions.

- "My wife and I will be away overnight." he told me. "Regrettable, but unavoidable. I would prefer to be home, on this occasion, but ..."

"Simran will be here. I expect you to have Parvani home at a decent hour. Shall we agree on 2:00? And I know that you will be a perfect gentleman, Ian."

The look he gave me was quite clear. You touch my daughter - I kill you. Message received and understood. I didn't know how to tell him that he didn't have to worry. Parvani and I were just friends. Good friends.

We stood for photographs, and drank tall glasses of an exotic fruit juice - I think it was passion-fruit. Then I drove Parvani over to my house, where Dad and his girlfriend fussed, and took pictures, and even cracked a small bottle of sparkling wine.

As we drove off, finally on our way, Parvani giggled. "That was really sweet." she said. ""But don't tell my father we drank champagne - that was my first taste of alcohol."

- "I wasn't kidding, back at your house." I said. "You look amazing, Par."

I liked my friend's name. Parvani. She was the only one I knew, and it suited her. But it was a mouthful. I tried - unsuccessfully, at first - to shorten it. To 'Parv'.

She wasn't too keen on that.

- "It sounds like 'perv'." she complained. She had a point, there.

But she was more accepting of 'Par'. No one called her that except me, so it seemed special to her.

Our Prom was in a big downtown hotel. It would be the usual: dinner, and dancing. Later on, we were invited to one of the after-parties, hosted by the class valedictorian. The jocks would be up at a cottage, getting drunk - and probably laid. The stoners would be getting wasted, and lying on the beach, under the stars. It was a shame than Burnsie wouldn't be there with them.

The dinner was fancy, but the food was nothing special. Prime rib, washed down with copious amounts of Coca-cola. Parvani didn't drink pop, and stuck to fruit punch. It was quite hot in there.

We danced a fair bit - despite the fact that neither of us was a particularly good dancer. The first slow dance was actually something of a relief. It was a bit awkward, at first - I had never held Parvani in my arms.

Her dress was surprisingly thin, and I could feel the heat of her body on the palms of my hands. I also had to be careful not to hold her too close - the first time I did, I felt the pressure of sizeable breasts against my chest.

By the third slow dance, Parvani was leaning into me, pressing close. She seemed much more comfortable with the contact than I was. By that time, it was so warm in there that I had taken off my suit jacket and rolled up my shirt sleeves.

- "I'm so glad we came together." she whispered.

- "Me too." I said.

At the end of that dance, I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. It was just an impulse. But at the last second, I was tempted - almost - to brush my lips across hers.

Parvani blushed - or maybe she was just flushed with the heat. I could feel the sweat running down my back.

- "I need another drink." I said.

- "Me too." she said.

While I stood in line, waiting to order a soft drink, I wondered about what I had almost done. It would have been wrong - I didn't want to create expectations that I wasn't about to fulfill. As lovely as she looked tonight, I wasn't romantically interested in Parvani.

Sexually, though ... but I quickly scratched that thought. Par was a 'good girl', and most definitely not a candidate for a quick roll in the hay. I would never have done that to her.

Besides, I still wanted my first time to be special. That meant Danny, if it was at all possible. Or Simran.

Wait - where had that thought come from? I had to stop thinking. I got a drink, and headed back to my date.

Parvani wasn't sitting down. She was standing, with her hand on the back of her chair. She didn't look quite right.

- "Par? Is something wrong?"

- "Umm ... I don't feel .. is the punch gone bad?" she mumbled.

I looked at her again, and then picked up her glass. I sniffed it. Then I tasted it. Yes - someone had spiked the punch. Actually, it was so strong, I was as if two people had spiked the punch.

- "Par? How many of these have you had?" I asked.

- "I don't know ... five ... six." She was looking decidedly green.

- "Come on. Come with me." I said.

I took her arm, and steered her out of the ballroom.

- "Can you make it home?" I asked.

- "Umm ..." She didn't know. I could have taken her to the washroom, in case she was about to throw up - but that didn't seem like a good idea: me in the girls' bathroom, with a dozen girls in their prom dresses ...

I decided to take Parvani home - as quickly as possible. I got her down the stairs, to the lobby, and down to the parking garage. She held on to my hand, tightly, and occasionally stumbled against me.

- "I'm sorry." she mumbled.

- "Not your fault, Par."

I got her into the car, and put her seatbelt on. Then I pulled out.

Two blocks from the hotel, Parvani burped, and then spewed a river of molten lava across the passenger side of the dashboard. I immediately pulled over, and reached across her to roll down the window. Yes, I got puke all over the side of my suit.

Parvani lurched, and then vomited again - this time out the window - all over the side of my Dad's car. I waited until she had finished.

- "I'm sorry ..."

- "It's not your fault, Par." I repeated. "Are you going to be ok?"

- "Take ... me home?" she mumbled.

That was my own inclination. In hindsight, maybe I should have taken her to the hospital, but I was hoping to spare her the embarrassment. I was also imagining what her father might have to say. So I put the car in gear, and drove on.

Two miles further on, she leaned her head right out of the window, and puked all down the side of the car. I pulled over immediately. I'm not sure that it made any difference.

That was our pattern. On the way home, Parvani puked twice more, and heaved as if was going to throw up three more times. At each onset, I immediately pulled to the curb.

- "Almost there." I told her.

- "Unnh."

I parked in her laneway, and went to the passenger side to help her out. The side of Dad's car was streaked with puke, as if it had been strafed by a vomit gun. Parvani's dress was stained. Gobs of wet ... stuff ... slid from the inside of the door, onto the laneway.

Her house key was in her little handbag. I made her wait outside, for a moment, while I went in and found a few paper towels. With them, I wiped a few pieces of barf from her dress, so that they wouldn't spill on the floor of the house.

- "I'm soo sorry." she said, a little more clearly.

I got Parvani into the bathroom, and then returned to the kitchen, where I had spotted a small footstool. With a little effort, I got the stool underneath her butt. She was half-sitting on it, and half hugging the toilet bowl when the next eruption started.

I held her hair away from her face.

I got a glass of water from the kitchen, and gave it to her.

- "I'm sorry." she mumbled.

With a clean, moist cloth, I wiped her face. There wasn't much I could do about her dress, without taking it off - and I wasn't about to do that.

So I sat on the edge of the bathtub, holding Parvani's hand, and telling her it was going to be alright. From time to time, I flushed the toilet so that she would get a cool breeze. She kept telling me how sorry she was, and I kept telling her not to worry about it.

Around 1:00, Simran came in.

- "Dear Lord." she said. "What happened?"

- "Someone spiked the punch." I said. "It was really hot, and Parvani drank quite a bit of it, without knowing what was in it. She said she'd never had alcohol before tonight."

Simran inspected the damage, and felt her sister's hand and forehead.

- "I can take it from here." she said. "I'll get her cleaned up, and then to bed. I can wash the dress before my parents come home. If anyone asks, we'll call it food poisoning, ok?"

"You did a good job, Ian." she said. "Thanks for taking care of her. And sorry about your car - I saw it."

- "That's no big deal." I said. "As long as Parvani is alright. Would you call me tomorrow, to let me know how she is?"

- "I will."

I took a few more paper towels, to clean their laneway, in case any of the puke had fallen off the door. It wouldn't have been a good idea to let Mr. D. find it when he got home.

After a short nap, I was up at dawn, to wash my Dad's car - inside and out. There was barf on the dashboard and in the vents, and all over the inside of the passenger door. Most of it was outside, though.

Two washings later, it didn't smell too bad, and there was no visual evidence left. I used an entire can of air freshener on the inside.

Simran called in the early afternoon, to let me know that Parvani was ok.

- "You're sure?"

- "She's a little groggy. Mostly she's just embarrassed. She told me to say thank you. And that she's sorry."

- "Your parents? Is she in trouble?" I asked.

- "It's all fine." Simran assured me.

***

I saw Parvani two days later. She was waiting for me on the way to school. When I approached, she surprised me by wrapping her arms around me, and giving me a tight hug.

- "Ian - I'm so sorry." she said. "I'm so sorry."

- "Don't be - it wasn't your fault."

- "But I ruined the prom for you -"

- "Wait - hold on a sec! Who said that?" I asked. "I had a wonderful time with you."

- "What are you talking about? I threw up all over your car, all over myself ..."

I surprised Parvani by hugging her.

- "Stop." I said. "Think back. We danced, and we laughed - we had a good time. I'm the one who's sorry: you got sick, and the rest of the night wasn't much fun for you. But it wasn't your fault."

- "I'm so embarrassed ..."

- "I understand. But look at this way: nobody knows, except you and me. And Simran. Nobody thinks any less of you. Years from now, we'll probably look at this, and laugh. You have to admit, Par - it was a memorable night."

We crossed the bridge in silence. On the far side, she turned to me.

- "Years from now?" she said. "You think we'll still be friends years from now?"

- "I know we will."

It was the right thing to say.

***

We were supposed to play D&D, at my house. But when Nate showed up, the look on his face spoke volumes.

- "What's wrong?" I asked. "Are you alright?"

- "I messed up." he said. "Bad."

- "I'll put the kettle on."

Over a cup of tea, Nate started to tell me what had happened.

- "I slept with Deborah." he said.

- "But ... that's great - isn't it?"

- "No. Well, it was. It was beautiful, I mean. The best night of my life."

- "What went wrong?" I asked. "I don't understand."

- "Deborah felt guilty. So she told Danny. They had a huge fight. Danny was furious with Deborah, and with me."

- "Jealous?"

- "I guess. Said she felt betrayed. Then she and Deborah made up, but Danny is still mad at me. And now Deborah is mad at me. She says I almost ruined her friendship with Danny."

- "What?" It sounded a bit insane to me, but I didn't say so to Nate.

- "They're not coming today." he said.

- "They'll get over it. Won't they?"

- "I don't know." said Nate. "I think I really messed up."

Danny and Deborah did not get over it. They reconciled with each other by cutting Nate out of their lives. That was the end of their friendship with him, and of our gaming sessions. Mirowen the elven spellcaster and Sylven LongStepper rode off, and never looked back.

It was also the end of my dreams. Literally. After that day, I never dreamed of either girl again.

*****