Swing Time Ch. 06

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Allison and David swing in the park at midnight.
3.1k words
4.52
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Part 6 of the 6 part series

Updated 10/08/2022
Created 12/07/2007
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l8bloom
l8bloom
252 Followers

All characters in this story are age 18 or older.

*

Allison dreamed hail fell from the sky. She could hear it against the glass like one person slowly applauding. Clap. Clap, clap. Good job. The weather didn't seem to be sarcastic.

She turned over and sniffled a sinus thing. The hail noise woke her up. It was real.

The pane was cool to her hand. Below on the lawn she could see a figure. She lifted the window. "David?"

"Come down," he called softly.

She waved her assent and turned away, not thinking to close the window. Her dad was sleeping (she hoped) in his room, across and down the hall. After a moment's hasty consideration, she picked up her sneakers and padded down the stairs in her bare feet. One step creaked. She held her breath and hastened on.

David was near the front door. The shape of his body was blurred by the evergreen bush.

"What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep. Come out." His bicycle made tick-tick-tick noises as the wheels reeled around.

"Uhm. Just a second." Her hair -- she dragged her fingers through it and found a clip to pin it back.

She pressed a kiss of greeting to his mouth. "What's up?"

"Just hoping you would come for a walk with me." He parked his bike between the house and its hedges.

Under the whispering rush of maples, they walked down the quiet Midwestern street, holding hands.

"Are you okay? It's almost midnight, you know."

"Yeah ... I don't know. I've been thinking."

"What about?" Their voices were quiet, as if by unspoken agreement to avoid waking the neighbors. Or, maybe, the still of the night required no volume. Not even a single car rushed past their surreal stroll.

"A lot of things. Allie, something's bothering me." He paused and turned, laying his hands to her waist. She thought at first he was going to kiss her, but he spoke: "I think Mr. Olaffsen is sleeping with Hillary."

"No! No, no, no. He'd never give in to her. He's honourable. Remember when he came to the house, and told us about doing the right thing?"

"Yeah, and remember that time in the music room about looking's free, touching costs."

"We've been through that," she said impatiently.

"I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about them. I know it's none of my business, but it bugs me."

Her eyebrows lifted. She gestured at the park they were passing. "Let's sit down, you can tell me about it."

They dangled on the park swings. He described his observation: the way the couple looked at each other, or more precisely, studiously ignored one another. "I feel it. There's something between them."

"Well, if it is true, it's almost graduation. It won't count anymore after that."

"It still isn't right."

"Maybe so, but how does it hurt us? Or anybody? They're consenting adults."

David considered. "Yeah, maybe." Then he quirked a grin at her. "You know, I had an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight."

"Oh yeah, what was that?" She liked seeing his mood brighten.

David slipped off of his swing and faced her, grasping the vertical chains. He leaned forward, so his lips were next to her ear. "Something to do with fondly hoping you'd come out in your nightgown like this."

In the darkness, she smiled. "Ye-e-e-e-es. What about it?"

He walked forward, pushing her swing backwards. His hands teased the hem of the simple knit, lifting it to her thighs. "I think you know."

Allison parted her limbs a little. With her elbows crooked around the chains, she caressed his mildly sweaty t-shirt. The scent of him curled up into her nose, earthy and warm, like a happy cat curling in sunlight. "What if I also had on no underwear?"

"You're wicked, you know that?"

Allie wiggled her eyebrows at him and quoted Mr. Joel. "'I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints.'" Her naked knees delighted in skimming around his jeans.

He threw back his head and laughed. "'The sinners are much more fun.'"

"Come here, baby."

They kissed and groped, each hoping the cops wouldn't drive by and tell them to go home. Yet it was an undeniable thrill, fooling around outdoors, in public, under the scant cover of darkness. David teased an index finger around her nipples, watching the bumps pop out through the blue knit of her nightdress.

Allison was wet. Her juices oozed around Dave's inquisitive fingers, sending him an unmistakable fuck-me-now signal. He made happy noises of lust, alternating between sounds like mmmmm and oh, baby, and telling her how hot and gorgeous she was. Her joy was luxurious as southern peach pie, all creamy and sweet.

"Don't stop, Gorgeous." Daring him with her eyes, she reached for his zipper.

His answer was just as sultry. "You think I won't? Scoot forward."

Allie grinned and shifted her pelvic bone. What a blast! She wrapped herself around him, slightly unsteady on the swing, letting him be the pole. His penetration was an easy glide, thanks to her sopping arousal. Dave planted his feet and grabbed the flat plastic seat. All he had to do was push the swing away and back. Neither of them could stop smiling. They tossed lust-words and groans back and forth, playing catch, playing pickle.

"Oh, god!" he choked out suddenly, and pushed back hard. His cum unfurled all over her dark blue dress. Involuntarily Allison arched her back, almost tumbling from her perch. They clung to one another as he pulsed, her heels digging into his butt, as much from passion as the need for stability.

Sighing, they held on, riding the ride to its complete stop. The warm glow in her eyes matched his. They held still for a moment, panting like a couple of steaming racehorses.

"That was great," she giggled. "You quiet band geek, you."

She hugged him and pressed her ear to his chest, hearing his increasingly familiar heartbeat. His embrace was toasty and snug. "It's late. We ought to be getting back." A gentle smile accompanied her admonishment.

"Yeah, let's go."

They straightened up their clothes and turned back toward her home. Their silence was comfortable. Tick-ticking the bicycle away from her door, he said, "Thanks for coming with me." Then he caught his own pun and laughed, "I mean, thanks for being with me." He sombered. "Thanks for listening."

"You're welcome. Get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow." Her smile was tender. She kissed him good-night, and they said their I-love-you's. Allison closed the door.

* * *

Jacob Olaffsen was engaged in the familiar ritual of cleaning out his office. He wasn't a religious man, but the methodical task brought him a certain peace. Every year it was the same: archive the records of graduating seniors, toss the oldest files he no longer had room for.

This year the task depressed him. One senior in particular would have to be let go. Mentally he cradled her in a warm embrace. Forgive me, Hillary. I'm only human. And a damned flawed one at that.

As if his thoughts conjured her up, the young lady bounced brightly into his office.

"Hillary." He blinked and remembered to be professional. "Miss Fairchild."

"Mr. Olaffsen." She shut the door and leaned to kiss his crewcut. The resulting cold confused her.

"Miss Fairchild, this is an office." He didn't even touch her to push her away.

"Yes, but — graduation is next week! It won't matter. We can be together, now." An undercurrent of fear tugged at her hope.

Olaffsen put down the files and looked her in the eye. "I'm sorry, Hill."

"NO!" Instantly she knew what he was saying. Big fat teardrops burst from her eyes. "No, Jacob, don't. I love you."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. His own throat constricted as he looked at the sobbing girl. "I'd love you if I could. Hillary, look at me."

She obeyed him. She never wanted anything more than to obey him. To her further confusion he pulled out a calculator.

"Hillary, will you pay attention, please?"

"You don't have to prove it to me. I know there's a difference in our ages." She hiccoughed and continued to weep.

"Please listen. Hillary, look. Where were you in 1970?"

"I wasn't born yet," she said dully. "I was born in 1989. You know that from my record. Is 1970 when you were born? That would make you nineteen years older than me, right?"

Olaffsen couldn't help a slight snort of laughter. Had this girl even taken arithmetic?

"Miss Fairchild, I turned fifty-five this year. I am thirty-seven years older than you are. With poor family planning, you could even be my granddaughter."

"But love conquers all." Even as she said it, she knew she had lost. Several more tears rolled down her pretty face.

Jake tried another tack. "Let's back up a second, okay?" Hearing no answer, he continued. "Do you remember what you wanted me to do?"

Hillary raised her head. "To sleep with me. To take my virginity." Her voice was so soft, he could barely hear her.

He nodded. "I did that." The urge to hold her, to comfort her, was powerful. Olaffsen called on every form of discipline he had ever known to stay exactly where he was.

Hillary's answering nod was more of a trembling of her chin. "I guess I should say thank you."

"No, I don't mean that. Hillary, there is no future for us. I'm telling you we had a wonderful time, and that's all we were entitled to. It's more than we were supposed to have."

She stood to go and struggled into her backpack. The gesture was a blatant reminder of her youth, a billboard she failed to notice.

Olaffsen looked at the defeat in her face. It killed him. Yet he refused to stand up for her; he could not take a chance on her running into his arms. It was better this way. He clenched his molars.

"I guess you don't want me to sue you," she said at last.

His only answer was in his eyes. He didn't speak; she was almost out the door.

"Just one thing," she turned back.

"Yes?"

"What's up with 1970? Does this have something to do with the 7 on your arm?"

He lied to her for the first and only time. "No. It was just an example."

Hillary Fairchild nodded, and shut the door behind her.

* * *

The last week of school was bittersweet for Hillary. She treasured the glimpses of her lover in the hall, and dreaded them at the same time. All of her classmates wondered about her red eyes. There was gossip and speculation. At one point she was even summoned to the guidance counselor's office. The lady demanded to know if Hillary was pregnant.

Hillary laughed out loud. "No! Not a chance." Jake had never failed to use a condom. She probably ought to thank him for that, too.

"What's wrong, then?"

The senior simply shook her head. The blonde curls rustled over her shoulders.

"Miss Fairchild, it's not only my job to look after your mental health. I really care about you. Did you break up with a boyfriend?"

"My grandmother died. She and I were very close."

The counselor could not force the truth; neither could she help a child who refused to talk. She wrote up the hall pass, a slip of increasingly meaningless paper, and handed it over.

* * *

It was a beautiful day for the exercises. The school set up a temporary stage at one end of the football field. The graduating seniors sat in rows of uncomfortable folding chairs, while their parents sat on the hard benches of the stadium.

The school board superintendent made the first speech. Most of the students had no idea who he was, and didn't particularly care. They thought of him as a droning old man, a pompous ass who stood up for no other reason than that he liked to hear himself talk.

They were not entirely correct.

True, he gave them the typical admonishments to which graduating seniors are subject: success in life is not measured in gold, or status. And the word "commencement" means "beginning."

The speech then took an uncommon turn.

"Students,... proud parents,... community. Four years ago in the wake of budget cuts we looked for ways to tighten our belts, and the music program suffered drastic cutbacks."

Jake Olaffsen did not smile, but his shoulders were exceptionally straight. The superintendent continued.

"This year our school experienced some unfortunate incidents. I cannot help but think, that perhaps a student engaged in musical practice, might avoid spending that time in criminal activity."

Craig Stewart inwardly rolled his eyes. The man made it sound as if Craig was some kind of thug, just waiting for a chance to commit mayhem. Don't shoot! Learn this chart first! He held still, only slightly pursing his lips.

"I am so proud of you, ladies and gentleman, for voting this spring, to reinstate, full funding, for the music program. I am moved, that two of our young people, missed the music, so much, that they requested, private auditions, in order to play.

"An old administrator, even older than myself, if you can believe it —" he paused in hopes of laughter, and the crowd gave him a little "— he told me, on occasions such as these, 'Be brief. They'll think you're a genius.' " This time the crowd did laugh. A few people cheered.

"I don't know if I'm a genius, but I do know, that showing you, something, is more important than telling you. And so, without further ado, to show you, the power of music, I give you, in their final performance: Swing Time."

Allie warmed up a tweedly-dee note and pointed at Hillary. The two women smiled at each other, and Hillary stepped in close to the mike.

"You're nobody 'til somebody loves you

You're nobody 'til somebody cares

You may be king, you may possess the world and its gold

But gold won't bring you happiness when you're growing old.

"The world still is the same, BUT WE CAN CHANGE IT!"

The seniors roared.

"...As sure as the stars shine above

You're nobody 'til somebody loves you

So find yourself somebody to love."

To her credit, Hillary didn't cry. She repeated the last verse, and didn't even glance at the man who had taught her so much. All of her energy funneled into the music. Her bearing was proud and passionate.

After the music, after the cheering and the noise and the speaking of each name, the crowd broke up fairly quickly. The high school principal and school board superintendent thanked the band members and wish them well, and at last, Swing Time stood on the stage by themselves.

Stan cleared his throat and addressed his fellows. "We will not pass this way again. I would like to offer a short preayer to bless our journey."

"Agreed," said Jake. He stood up from behind his drums and put one arm around Allison and the other around Craig. Stan put his arms around the shoulders of Craig and Hillary; the circle drew in.

Stan spoke a simplified version of the traditional blessing.

"Lord our God, God of our ancestors, lead us toward peace, guide our footsteps toward peace, and make us reach our desired destination for life, gladness, and peace. May You rescue us from every foe and ambush along the way, and may You bless the work of our hands. Lord grant us grace, kindness, and mercy in Your eyes and in the eyes of all who see us. May You hear the sound of our humble request, Adonai, Who hears all prayers."

"Amen," said everyone. Each hugged the other in turn. Their emotions were bittersweet, even those of Allison and David, whose futures were promised to one another. Swing Time would never be again.

Stan helped Dave roll away the piano, and Allison carried the bass and clarinet toward the car. Hillary had nothing to carry but her diploma and the day's program; she wandered toward the school to get the last of her things from her locker. Craig's guitar took but a moment to zip away.

Olaffsen was the last man in the theatre. Packing up a drum kit takes time. He went through the practiced movements with his customary care.

Stan Katz took his daughter and future son-in-law to a nice café. Allison made a big deal out of waving her left hand around. The diamond on her finger wasn't huge, but it was true. It twinkled and sparkled in every ray of light.

Craig Stewart drifted back to the music room. He thought maybe he'd intercept Mr. Olaffsen, and thank him in some final kind of way, for having taken a chance on him back in January. He wandered about the room.

Memories brushed a swirling fog in every corner. He really was glad he'd picked up a guitar, and offered up thanks for his parents, too.

For no special reason, he sat down at the upright piano and opened the lid. His ear was still so inexpert that he couldn't tell whether it was in tune or not. Clumsily he tapped at the keys. Plink, plink, plink. Plink, plink, plink. Jingle all the way. David Hemingway. Christ. Some people were so fucking lucky, and had no idea.

The door swung open, and in walked Hillary Fairchild. She sat down beside him on the bench.

"I wonder if I should apologize to you, too."

Hillary looked surprised. "What for?"

"You know. For fall semester. For all the stupid things I did."

"You never did anything to me."

"That's true...physically, anyway." Craig was so, so tired of being judged for his past.

Hillary didn't really seem to be where he was. She, too, looked as if memories were pouring through her hands like hypnotic gems. A deep breath roused her and she seemed to shake it off.

"So are you here to see Mr. Olaffsen?"

"Yeah, I wanted to thank him."

"For the lesson."

"You mean lessons, don't you?"

"No." Hillary shook her head. "Don't you remember that plaque in his office? 'Here and Now.' You can't live in the future, or the past. I think that's the most important thing he taught us."

-FIN-

* * *

You're Nobody Till Somebody Loves You by Russ Morgan, Larry Stock, and James Cavanaugh.

l8bloom
l8bloom
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  • COMMENTS
5 Comments
gemman1gemman1over 11 years ago
Great Story

Very well written and an appropriate ending. Very nice....

Seemann1957Seemann1957over 14 years ago
Thank You

All I can say,you do know how to write!

A great story and a greater ending.Hope there is more in the future.

Seemann1957Seemann1957over 14 years ago
Thank You

All I can say,you do know how to write!

A great story and a greater ending.Hope there is more in the future.

Seemann1957Seemann1957over 14 years ago
Thank You

All I can say,you do know how to write!

A great story and a greater ending.Hope there is more in the future.

AnonymousAnonymousover 16 years ago
Wonderful

What a fantastic ending to a great story. I'm glad you addressed the issue of the teacher student relationship and I'm glad it ended happily every after. Can't wait to read more from you.

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Swing Time Ch. 05 Previous Part
Swing Time Series Info

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