We were the best of friends, Abby and I. We'd grown up together, living next door since Abby moved into the neighborhood at age three. We did everything together growing up. We had played in each other's backyards for hours at a time. If it rained, we just moved inside and kept it going. I had tea parties and makeovers with her, and she played hoops with me and together we helped GI Joe fight Cobra.
Our families were close so we always celebrated the holidays together. It was nothing for Abby and I to disappear and leave the grownups alone to drink and mingle. We'd end up upstairs in the bedroom of whichever house we were at.
We even survived the awkward years of puberty. She let me read her "secret book" in the 4 th grade that told her about her changing body. She was fascinated when my voice changed. We never really liked each other in a boyfriend/girlfriend way, it just didn't seem right to us. So when we started showing interest in the opposite sex, we were able to confide in each other and avoid the jealousy.
Now, we did get a bit distracted in high school. Abby became a cheerleader and I was becoming quite an athlete in football and basketball. Our times together became less and less as practice and school took over our lives. We still managed to hang out together, although now it was the unsaid rule that we didn't go into each other's rooms anymore. The holidays would find us sitting on the front porch or playing a board game in the kitchen.
We both noticed the changes in our bodies, but it wasn't something we really discussed as we got older. I'd catch her watching me as I mowed our yard without a shirt on, and I definitely noticed her toned body whenever she was tanning.
Unlike the stereotypical jock and cheerleader, neither one of us really dated much. We were just too busy with our own lives I guess to really focus on someone else. If I wasn't at practice, I was hitting the books and Abby was the same except when she wasn't cheering at school, she was involved with a local competitive cheer squad.
Sure, we went to high school dances, but even though we had a date, we were really just out with a group. I never really had more than a few fumbled kisses at the front door when I dropped my date off. I don't know about Abby, but I was spending a lot of time with my hand in my pants.
Masturbating took a lot of that teenage angst away. I'd do it in the morning before school and a few times before going to bed. I never really had any wet dreams like we learned about in health class. My body didn't need wet dreams to release the tension, I was taking care of that on my own.
Anyway, that was my mediocre life up until the spring of our senior year. Abby came over one afternoon and asked if I would help her family out by feeding their cat over the weekend.
"No problem," I told her while checking her out. She was wearing athletic type shorts and a school t-shirt. She looked good. She looked good all over. She was tanned and toned and fully aware of me checking her out.
When I looked up at her face, she had a knowing smile. "Anyway," she said with a sigh as if she had to gain my attention again. "We're going to the A&M baseball game. Dad wants me to see the campus."
"Go Ags!" I said lamely. We both were growing tired of the pressure to choose a college. I understood our parents. We were both eighteen. It was the semester of school and it was time to make some decisions.
She laughed and gave me the basic instructions on taking care of the cat. "You know Mom," she laughed. "She'll have a detailed list of instructions for you on the kitchen table."
"I look forward to reading it," I said with a smirk. Her Mom was major OCD and we all knew it. I always told Abby she'd pick it up too but she always denied it. We said our goodbyes and I went back inside.
The next morning found me sitting at Abby's kitchen table reading a three-page list of instructions on my responsibilities over the weekend. Seriously. Three pages on how to turn the lights on, check the mail, and feed the cat. Sheesh!
Anyway, I did my job. As I waited for the cat to finish eating, I wandered around the house. Pictures of Abby were everywhere, outnumbering the pictures of her younger brother. Second-kid syndrome. I suffered from it as well. It's never as easy to do things with the second or third kid.
I was bored. Plus it was weird being alone in their house. I checked on the cat and she was eating very slowly.
Sigh.
So I walked upstairs to Abby's room.
It smelled of her.
There was a bra hanging from her closet doorknob.
It was pink.
It was silky to the touch.
