Wednesday
I was gently rising to the surface of consciousness when my watch alarm grabbed me by the scruff and yanked me upwards into the morning. Dragging on my cutoffs and an old t-shirt, I staggered out of my room. Half an hour later, I was sipping coffee in the kitchen, waiting for the frying pan to heat up. It was my turn in the meal cooking rotation, and I hoped my partner would show up before anyone else stirred; I figured we had things to talk about.
And here she came. Becca tiptoed in and made for the fridge. I heard a stilted "Good morning" from behind the magnet-bedecked door as she grabbed the carton of eggs and peppers. She then began slicing the vegetables with more concentration than necessary.
"Rebecca," I said softly.
"Hmm?" she replied vaguely, still not looking up.
I stepped over to her, speaking low. "Folks will be up any time now, so the sooner we talk, the better."
The knife ceased its chopping. She took a breath.
"I don't know what I was thinking. I can't imagine what you must think --" She stopped mid-sentence as I put my hand over hers.
"I think... you did something very nice for me. I'm not sure why it happened, yet, but I don't think any less of you." I felt a slight tremor in her arm as I continued. "It...took care of things that really needed taking care of. But then you left. I couldn't help you back, we couldn't relax and talk, so I'm a little confused."
"I can't answer you. I mean, I don't really know why. I just thought...I don't know. I never did something like that before." Even though her head was down, I could see her face go read through the curtain of her brown hair. I wondered what she meant exactly. I knew she wasn't a virgin, but surely she'd touched a guy before. Before I could say anything else, I heard someone coming up the stairs. Time was up.
"Don't worry about it right now. Just enjoy the day." I kissed the side of her head and went back to the stove to start on the bacon.
Wednesday Afternoon
The day went much the same way as before, except for the early afternoon thundershower which kept everyone indoors or on the covered patio. A few folks played boardgames, then wandered off to read or listen to music. The lovebirds were cloistered away, but even they came out now and then for some social time. And everyone, at some point, found themselves with one or two friends in light or heavy conversation. I was reading a novel on a lounge chair after lunch, feeling sluggish, when I glanced up and saw Rebecca leaning on the railing, looking at the rain-gray lake. I glanced around. Most everyone was inside, all out of earshot.
"Hey," I said, " why don't you take a load off?"
With studied nonchalance (or so I guessed) she drifted over and, ignoring the scattered chairs, stretched out on the picnic table. We talked for a while about school-- a safe enough subject. I was dying to know what was going on in her mind. As the conversation lulled, I saw her gathering herself to get up; if she had meant to say something, clearly, her nerve failed her. I needed to act, so without thinking it through, I opened my mouth and some words popped out.
"I don't know what you want to do," I began, and saw her freeze, tensed. "But my door to the deck won't be locked tonight. Anyone who wants to can walk right in." She hesitated, not looking at me, and then quickly stood up and walked into the house.
Wednesday Evening
Gina's stirfry was delicious as usual, and the easy banter among my dearest friends was quite up to expectation, but I couldn't completely relax that small knot of tension in my stomach. I was sure I could have come up with something more subtle, more low key, more politic. I had meant to say, "Come up and talk. Come up and hang out." Okay, that's what my mind would have set. But I was still a guy, and as a guy, even the most altruistic intent would come out sounding like, " I liked the hand-job, babe; come up tonight and do me again." I wondered if that ass Spence sounded like that.
But chewing on my shy friend's behavior would have wasted the evening. A glass of wine (yes, we were snobs) and an after-dinner exchange of shoulder rubs with Kristin mellowed me out enough to enjoy the gathering.
The evening light faded, and everyone mellowed. The lovebirds retired to their nest, and I took that opportunity to excuse myself as well. Amid cries of "Wimp!" and "Old Fart!" I defended myself: "Next time I pull breakfast duty, I'll wake all a' you, and see how late you want to stay up." As I made my way out, I cast a sidelong glance at Rebecca. Her eyes were fixed elsewhere.
A few minutes later, I crawled under the covers, feeling the sheet slide across my bare skin. The hall door was locked; the porch door was cracked open. The room was dark except for the dim, warm light of a candle on the nightstand. With a mix of anticipation and anxiety, I waited. It was entirely possible that I'd blown it. I'd proved men, even friends, are schmucks, and sex could make an easy friendship awkward.
Half an hour crawled by. The occasional laughter and other sounds of habitation were less frequent as people headed off to bed. I myself felt drowsy, and was reaching for the candle when a shadow fell across the moonlit curtain. A figure awash in silver light slipped in and quickly shut the door. I heard the click of the latch.
The candle painted increasingly detailed features across the silhouette as she crept towards the bed. She wore a nightshirt -- dark oversized T, really -- riding a little less than halfway down her thigh. I looked into her eyes, and she looked back, silent. Nervously, she wrapped her arms around herself and looked down self-consciously. I shifted to the middle of the bed, and patted the vacated spot. She sat. Her legs and feet were enticingly bare.
"I didn't know if you were coming." I hoped my tone made it clear I was glad.
Her words came out in a rush. "People were still up and I didn't want to --" she stopped, and in a slower, softer tone, finished, "I didn't know either. I don't know why I'm here. Why am I here?"
"Do you want me to guess?"
"Sure," she replied after a moment's hesitation.
"It could be because you're curious. Because you want to explore. Because you long to be explored." Even in the dim light, I thought I saw a blush. "Because most of your friends have been with someone else, enjoyed it, and come away better for it, and that didn't happen for you." She looked away. I put my hand on her leg, and her eyes traveled back to me. "Because you know me, I'm your friend, and you know I wouldn't hurt you and you trust me. Because you're lonely and you know you're safe with me." I waited. "Am I in the ballpark?"
She let out a breath I didn't notice she'd been holding. "Yes. To pretty much all of it."
