Ethan loved driving Charlie's car. It was so big and low and easy to drive. He still loved his '66 GTO, but Charlie's Olds was a laid back and take it easy kind of car.
It was a beautiful, sunny morning. He parked the car in the lot outside Lena's apartment building. He stood at the panel of buttons outside the door, trying to remember which apartment he was in last night. He never heard Lena's last name, so that didn't help. He guessed and pushed one of the buttons for the third floor, but there was no answer. He tried another button, and a girl's voice answered.
"Hello?" she said.
Ethan hesitated. Was that Lena's sister?
"Uh, hi. It's me. Ethan? I was here last night with Charlie?"
There was a pause for a few seconds.
"Come on up," the girl's voice said, and the door buzzed.
He went up the stairs, knocked and waited. Tori opened the door.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi," Ethan said.
She was as beautiful as he remembered, maybe even more. She was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a white turtleneck shirt. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail. They stood for a minute staring at each other.
"Is Charlie still here?" Ethan finally said.
"Yeah. You wanna come in?"
She stepped aside and held the door open. He went in.
Immediately he smelled a strong, pungent odor that filled the whole apartment. On the coffee table in front of the couch was an ashtray filled with ashes and tiny, twisted cigarette butts. They had smoked the hash.
"You left pretty early last night," Tori said.
"Yeah. I wasn't feeling well."
He noticed the way she was looking at him. He'd seen that look in her eyes before from other girls.
"Sorry to hear that. You feeling better now?"
"Some . Is Charlie ready to go?" Ethan said.
Tori giggled. "He's a little ... indisposed right now. He got pretty wasted last night."
Ethan looked at the closed bedroom door. "Are they asleep in there?"
"Sort of. They've been asleep for a while. Every now and then I hear them going at it."
Ethan started toward the door. "Maybe I should get him up."
Tori put her hand on his arm. "Maybe you should let him sleep."
Ethan looked surprised. She smiled.
"Have a seat. Would you like some coffee?" she said.
"Uh, sure," Ethan said.
He sat on the sofa in the same spot he sat last night. Tori went to the kitchen once again. He watched her move about, opening the cupboard for a coffee mug, pouring the coffee.
"Do you like cream or sugar?" she said while she poured.
"Sure, just a little."
She brought the mug out and handed it to him. He held the hot mug in his uninjured hand and took a cautious sip. It was very good. Tori sat beside him, folded her legs Indian style, and picked up her glass of Mountain Dew. They were quiet for a few minutes, sipping their drinks.
"How did you hurt your hand?" she said.
"Excuse me?"
"Your hand. How did you hurt it?"
Ethan raised his injured hand and cradled it in his good hand.
"Oh, uh, in a fight," he said, and felt sheepish.
"Ah," Tori said and nodded.
She was looking straight ahead while she sipped. Her skin was soft and pale. He had seen that she was beautiful before, that was not difficult to notice, but he had not realized how beautiful she was, how much more so than Lena. Lena had a hardbody, lean and firm, but Tori was softer, more delicate, her features more classically feminine.
Her cute eyes were small and girlish, her nose was a little button that turned up at the end, her lips were full and pouty. Her jaw tapered into her neck, which seemed too fragile to hold up her head.
Her round breasts were deliciously obvious beneath snug fitting turtleneck shirt, and their shape was accentuated by the flatness of her stomach and the gentle curve of her waist.
She turned and looked at him. Ethan realized he was staring at her and snapped his head around to face the other direction. He took a deep breath, totally embarrassed that she had seen him gawking at her body.
Tori cleared her throat.
"Um, how many stitches did you get?" she asked.
"Twelve, I think," he said, holding up his hand as if it was an exhibit. "You probably think I'm pretty stupid for fighting."
She giggled. "Yeah, I do. Did you win?"
Ethan started to explain to her why he had been fighting, but was confused by her question.
"If you think fighting is stupid, why do you care whether or not I won?" he said.
"Just curious."
Before he could ask her his next question, she stood up.
"You want more coffee?" she said.
He stopped with his mouth open, distracted in the middle of speaking. He looked down at the mug. He had drank only about half of it.
"Uh, sure," he said.
She held out her hand. He put the mug in it. She went back into the kitchen. He watched her ass cheeks, which were so neatly encased in her tight jeans, move side to side as she walked, and he groaned.
