Roomers Ch. 03

Old theme, new treatment, I hope. You need the earlier chapters or you'll get confused. (Best to start with number one, but that's just a personal view). Please remember to vote. I answer non-anonymous feedback. Satyricon.

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'You sure got a lot of books, Doug. You read them all?' That is such a dumb question, I thought. You think I bought them instead of wallpaper? Still, no point in causing bad feeling, and he was an OK kid. Paid his rent on day one and never came back drunk. I tried not to sound irritated.

'I do a lot of reading, Timmy, ya know that. Fetch yourself a beer, and for me too, then siddown and tell me what you need. You look kinda jumpy.' He loped into the kitchen and came back with the bottles.

'Doug, I gotta problem and I need your help.' Kid thinks I can work fuckin' miracles.

'It involves getting off my ass, Timmy, the answer's no. Advice, though, I majored in advice. What's happened?'

Turned out it was a girl problem, like nearly always. You're in college, your problems are gonna be grades or girls. Or guys, I guess. Can't ace both unless you're prepared to work real hard. That's one of the reasons I'm a happy guy. It's like I said, a good slacker's gotta be realistic. The best possible result is nearly always hidin' in a bucket of sweat, so your good slacker says 'thanks, but no thanks,' and settles for the best sweat-free result possible. Almost as good and a whole lot easier.

Poor ol' Timmy was dating two girls and getting all strung out about deciding which one he really loved, and who did he want to give his heart to, stuff like that. I gave him words of wisdom, choose the one gives the best head, stuff like that, and another coupla beers, gotta couple smiles outa him, sent him away feeling better. I don't think he listened much. When I warned him that whatever you do, shit happens, he looked as if he thought I was shittin' him. He'd find out.

I got up and looked outa my big bay window at the wet leaves blowing down the street. Fall was settled right in and winter was peeping round the corner. It was a day just like this that I finally got to speak to Judy Olsen. Hell, she was the one spoke to me first. Shit hadn't happened then.

I'd been feeling kinda pleased with myself that morning. We'd paid the rent on time, utilities too. I'd showed Annie round and she'd admired everything and we'd christened the place. Baptism of fire, that woman handed out: worth it though, and the scars healed pretty quick. I was getting A's, a few B's. I'd worked part-time over the summer, pumping gas, and done an hour a day at the gym, coupla hours a day with the books, spent time thinking about Judy Olsen, plus deep thoughts about how to cut down on the sweat factor. My real talent is using down time wisely. My real problem is getting enough of it. Hell, I didn't chill much that summer, but I didn't knock myself out either, and I went back to college with a little extra cash in my pocket, feeling pretty good.

Stayed good too. Gary had found the apartment a while back and put his marker on it. Owner was an old guy, useta work for someone who... that kinda deal, so we got moved in and settled real quick. Gary and I got on OK. He kept my nose in the books: guy had a sharp tongue on him when he wanted. I useta drag him out for a beer when he was looking kinda peaky. He was still engaged to his high school sweetheart, so weekends were clear, just in case I got lucky.

So on a wet and windy fall morning I locked the door behind me and did a happy shuffle down the steps of the old duplex. Wet leaves on the bottom step and my legs went away from me as I landed. As I hit the sidewalk I hit something else, and there was a scream of pain.

'You fuckin' dumb bastard!' A girl's voice. I'd caught my head bad as I went down and my left eye wasn't working too good. I put my hand up and it came away wet and sticky and I dam' near started screaming too. The voice was groaning and whimpering now, and I tried to say something, but everything went a little hazy and I closed my good eye for a moment. Bye bye Doug.

Turned out that I tore my forehead open and concussed myself, needed half a dozen stitches and bed rest for a coupla days. Gary came by, and a couple of other guys. My mom drove down to make sure she wasn't going to have a vegetable son for the rest of her life. Annie visited, checked out her interests, slipped me a baggie as she left.

Third day I woke up from my morning nap and wondered what was blocking the light. I struggled to focus and nearly passed out again. She was standing looking at me, looking pissed as hell.

'You owe me, Mr. Douglas goddam Taylor. I'm gonna be in fuckin' plaster the whole next month.' Click. Never been so relieved to hear imaginary sounds. Thank God for summer.

'Judy? Judy Olsen? What you doing here?' I already knew. I could see she was on crutches.

'How come you know my name? You fell down your fucking front steps and broke my fucking ankle, dickwad. That's why I'm here. When you gonna get off your ass and start some fucking payback?' Hell, she was some kinda potty mouth.

'I seen you in the library, asked who you were. What payback? Jeez, my head hurts. You wanna hand me those painkillers and some water?' She hobbled forward and passed me the stuff, balancing on one crutch and propping the other against the bed. Click.

'Shit, Judy, I'm sorry. Last thing I remember is slipping on some goddam leaves, then I was here. I wasn't aimin' to cripple ya. Tell me what ya want. Whyntcha sit down? Standing too long's gotta be a problem.' She glared at me not quite so hard and gimped over to a chair.

'You OK? You sure gotta lot of bruising.'

'Banged myself up pretty good. You?' She shrugged.

'Cracked a bone, tore the ligaments up a tad. Coulda been worse, I guess. You really ask someone who I was?' She was calming down some.

'Last year. Started sitting where I could see you.' I thought I saw her react to that. 'Tell me what ya need. Anything. I been wanting to meet ya a long time now, but hell, not this way. Makes me feel like a real jerk.' She nodded, then cracked a reluctant grin..

'Got that right. How come you're not gabbling and apologizing like you oughta? Click.

'Cheap words gonna help any? I'm outa here this afternoon they say. I meant what I said. Anything I can do, it's done.' She looked at me hard again.

'You gotta car, right?'

'Old Valiant. Ugly but reliable.' She nodded.

'School I can manage. Stairs are a pain in the ass, but nothing's too far to get to. But I'm a psych major and I gotta do three evenings a week in a clinic this semester, placement.. It's kinda like an internship for students.'

'Dean's list students, I bet. There ain't enough clinics in the state for the whole class.' This time she did pink up a little.

'Well, yeah, and I gotta keep my grades up. I slip off the list, my fuckin' scholarship goes south. Clinic's outa town and I been riding the bus, but that's screwed now.'

'Outa evil good shall come. I heard that on the radio. What evenings? How long? Is there a room I can study in? You wanna have pizza tonight and work out a schedule?' She stared, and this time it wasn't a hard one.

'Just like that? Not going to wriggle even a little?' No fuckin' way, lady. This is my foot in the door.

'You think I wanna be the guy shafted your career? We could do Mexican, you don't like pizza.' The stare again.

'Good job I'm a psych major. You're plain abnormal. You like Chinese?'

And that was that. Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, four miles outa town, deep in the subs, six till eight-thirty. She talked to the clinic director, explained the situation, they let me use someone's office to study. I picked her up from her dorm, dropped her back after; sometimes we grabbed something to eat. I radiated respectful admiration like a dam' lighthouse. Three forced study evenings kept my grades looking good. Messed up my gym time though, and the clicks stopped. No matter, no hurry: she didn't date hardly at all. I thought about how we'd met, looked at my graphs, played with the numbers some, and thought some more. On the one hand it wasn't the way I'd have chosen. On the other hand, it wasn't my leg that was broke, Unpredictable ability, but got the job done.

'Fuckin' frat rats,' she said one evening on the way back into town. 'Think all they gotta do is invite you to some party and you're gonna roll over and beg.'

'Someone hitting on you?'

'All of 'em, every fuckin' day, seems like. Call me the fuckin' ice-queen, but they keep on hitting.' She sounded kinda despondent. Click, but real small. Hardly there at all.

'I never heard a psychologist with such a dirty mouth. And I seen your eyes when you're not mad. Green and beautiful. You're no ice-queen.' Even in the dark car I knew she was reddening.

'How come you don't hit on me then?'

'And have you mad at me again? Once was enough.' She managed a laugh.

'I guess I came on pretty strong. I was real worried about the clinic hours, and I didn't know what kinda guy you were.'

'Judy, you seen me in the library like I seen you, and you knew I had a car, and you probably heard that I don't hit. You tell the next rat we're going steady, you want to. Hell, three times a week qualifies. I'll back that up and I won't hit on you.' This time I could almost feel the heat in her cheeks. When redheads blush they blush real good. 'So where's the mouth come from? Last year, looking at you, I kinda imagined Miss Prissy. Guess I was wrong.'

'I got three brothers. Can I really say that?' We'd arrived at her dorm and I got out to open the door for her.

'Whole family swear and cuss, huh? Kinda refreshing, I guess. Course you can say it. Good for my rep.' She was slower than usual getting outa the car, and let me help her. Breakthrough.

'Thanks, Doug. I guess I coulda had my ankle broke by worse people.'

'My pleasure, ma'am. Uh, I guess I'm gonna catch the gym before it closes. See ya tomorrow.' That evening I worked out automatically, hating it, imagining sophisticated moves.

The plaster came off, but she decided her ankle still hurt, and I carried on giving her a ride three times a week. She limped a little those evenings, but I saw her with friends a coupla times and she looked to be pretty agile again. I stayed like Tar Baby and said nuth'n.

Kinda shameful I guess, but I was with Annie when I thought of it. In fact she was the one lit the fuse. Her guy was off somewhere, and we were in bed, kinda sweaty, resting up before round two. We'd shared a joint and my head was buzzing a little. Annie was gently cleaning my cock, her skinny butt handy for stroking, and I was running my hand absent-mindedly down her ass crease and over her slippery lips, enjoying her reactions. I'd persuaded her to tidy herself up a little, told her going to the dentist for a trim was plain embarrassing, and the vegetation was more manageable than it useta be.

'Doug?'

'Don't stop. I'm kinda enjoying that.' Her sharp little teeth closed over my glans. 'Uh, sure, Annie, what were you gonna say.' She kissed me better and I relaxed.

'When's your birthday, Doug?'

'August third. I don't do much with it. Summer, people are away, my family's never been big for that sorta stuff.' She twisted her head and looked at me.

'So you turned twenty and I missed it? I was planning to celebrate.' Click. First time for a while.

'Annie, you are a celebration every time I see ya. No need to spoil me more.' She gave me one last lick and swung round, balancing on my chest, rolling her hips just a little against my swelling cock.

'Woulda been kinda fun to surprise ya. Break through that laid-back shell for once.' She kissed me and gnawed on my bottom lip. 'Next year, if we're still good, I'll thinka something.' Her voice changed. 'What I'm gonna do now is ride you till you scream, teach you to spoil my plans. OK?'

'Celebration already. You wanna try to avoid drawing blood this time?'

She was as good as her word, and when she'd gone I was too tired to think. But she'd planted the seed.

Maybe the ability kicked in, maybe not, but Judy dropped her purse two days later, getting outa the car. Cards and stuff everywhere, and I crawled about collecting them while she cussed and told me not to miss anything. Her drivers' license was one of the casualties. Landed in a puddle, and I used my sweatshirt to wipe it off, happened to see that she was due a birthday three weeks after Christmas break. I checked the calendar when I got home, and saw it was a Friday. Perfect. I upped my gym time, hit the books like a bastard, practiced real respectful conversation, snuck round some and made plans. Hated the extra work, but the lines on the graph said it was time.

Two days before the day, Wednesday, I was benching some weight, focusing hard on my plans, and her face appeared, kinda fuzzy, but real as life, smiling and looking pretty pleased. There was a soft rumble in my head, like distant thunder, and she faded away. I felt kinda tired that night, a little stiff, but nothing forty-eight hours wouldn't deal with. I kept my hands off my cock and fell asleep imagining scenarios.

Friday I was ready. She always dressed up a little for the clinic, lookin' for the professional touch, I guess, so I ironed a shirt and bought a new pair of pants and shined my shoes. Put my ratty old coat over the top when I picked her up though. No point in showing my hand. Just before we got to the clinic she put her hand on my arm.

'Uh, Doug, can you pull up a minute? I need to say something.'

'Sure.' She reached up and put the little vanity light on and looked at me.

'Um, I haven't been entirely honest about my ankle.' Click. Loud and strong.

'Shit, Judy, I thought it was healing like it should, no complications. What's wrong?' Crimson tide. She nearly glowed.

'No, it's fine. In fact it's been fine for a while now, but having a ride is kinda nice, and I didn't say anything because...' Her voice tailed away, then she took a deep breath. 'What I mean is, Tuesday I'll take the bus. I shoulda told you after break, but I was just selfish, I guess. I'm sorry.' I shook my head.

'For what? Talk about it later, Judy. I ain't gonna make you late.' I put the Valiant in gear, and we rolled. She stayed quiet, but I followed her in like always, toting my books, and made for the office I used. She started to say something, then stopped and went on down the hall. I guess I didn't do a lotta studying that evening: maybe half a page, and that took will-power. When the time came I was in the reception hall, trying to project reassurance. She arrived looking kinda miserable.

'C'mon, kid. Time's a-wasting.' She didn't answer, but when I turned right instead of left at the gates she sat up.

'Doug, whaddya doin'? Town's the other way.'

Hush up, Ms Judy. I got my reasons.' She looked real nervous and I stayed projecting calm. Lucky we only had a mile to go or she mighta cracked. When I pulled into the parking lot she stiffened, and when I parked, went round to open the door for her, she stayed where she was.

'I'm not movin' till you tell me why we're here.'

'To eat, dummy. This is a restaurant and I'm gonna buy you a meal. Table's booked, everything. You gonna get stubborn, hurt my feelings, end up feeling guilty?' After a pause she climbed outa the car and stood.

'This place is real expensive, Doug. What's going on?' I sighed.

'I can buy you a meal, I want to. We're going steady remember? Least, that's what you told Ron Carter right before Christmas. He gave me seven kinds of shit in the gym, being kinda abusive and all. I had to reason with him some. Now, gimme your arm and behave like a lady. This is an upscale joint, so no doggie bags, OK?' She was redder than a beetroot but she took my arm when I offered it. We went in the doors and landed in the lap of luxury. I'd greased the maitre d's palm when I made the reservation, and he had us in a booth, kinda private. Candle on the table, single rose on her plate, an envelope beside it, 'Judith Olsen' on the front, copperplate script. She sat down automatically and looked at me, her mouth half-open. I sat opposite her and grinned..

'So open it already, Judy. Explanation's inside.' Her eyes didn't leave my face as she fumbled for the envelope and ran her thumb under the flap. Then she pulled out the card and looked down. You don't find many tasteful birthday cards, but I'd kept looking. "To a true friend, with sincere good wishes for your birthday" it said, and I'd signed my name, nothing more. I was kinda proud. She read it twice and when she looked up her eyes were sorta wet. Way to go. Right on cue a waiter arrived with a half-bottle of Iron Horse champagne. I was pleased with that touch. French champagne says "Hey, I got bucks", full bottle says "I wanna get you drunk". Half-bottle just says "respectful admiration". He opened it and poured and disappeared again. I raised my glass.

'Happy birthday, Ms Olsen, and shame on you for keeping so quiet. Good job I saw your drivers' license when you dropped your purse.' Loud click. 'I guess my present is saying go on using the car. I don't want you to be riding the bus all the time. You know where I park it, and I can get spare keys made real easy.' I sipped and waited. She put the card down and stood up, then moved round and slid into the booth next to me. She grabbed my head and kissed me thoroughly, like it was something she'd been waiting to do. I swear my toes curled clear round in a circle and I could feel tears on her cheeks. She straightened up, went back to her seat, picked up her napkin and wiped her eyes.

'What didya mean, reason with that dickhead Ronnie Carter?' I shrugged.

'I told ya. He was bein' kinda abusive, badmouthin' you, makin' personal remarks, so I took him aside. He saw reason pretty quick. He been hitting on you again?' She shook her head.

'You never said. I can't say anything right now or I'll disgrace myself. You got the menu planned too?' Click.

'Thought I'd let ya choose for yourself. Don't want to look over-control.' She rolled her eyes.

'That'll be the fuckin' day.' She seemed to have perked up some, and I let out a little of the breath I'd been holding.

Dinner went real well. Champagne got drunk, but I virtuously refused wine, told the waiter I was driving, got an approving smile from her. She found her appetite and cleaned her plate. We talked about everything except friendship and going steady. Never does to spook the serious ones. There was atmosphere between us, sure, but it felt promising.

Going back she loosened her seat belt and moved over some. God bless the Valiant and its bench front seat. She leaned against me a little on the curves and I kept both hands on the wheel. By her standards she was coming on real strong. When I pulled up outside the dorm she didn't move for a while, then she opened the door.

'Stay there for a second,' she said. 'I'll be right back.' She disappeared into the dorm and I wondered what was happening. She was back in two minutes, panting, and slid into the passenger seat again.

'I wanna see your apartment.' Click.

'Uh, Judy, that's not what this is about. You wanna see the apartment, you can come round for a meal, when Gary's there maybe...' She swiveled round in her seat and grabbed my head again, then leaned forward, her face almost touching mine.

'I wanna see your apartment right now, Doug Taylor, and I wanna proper birthday present. You good with that?' Click.

'Ever since the first time I saw you.' I felt her shiver as I started the car again, and resisted the urge to whoop and holler.

I'd thought about clean sheets, but decided no. Too obvious, and she wasn't a stupid girl. I'd changed 'em since Annie's last visit though. I'm not stupid either. When we got to the apartment and I ushered her in and took her coat, she shivered again, then turned and put her arms round me.