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Authors: Beth Goobie

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Hello Groin (29 page)

BOOK: Hello Groin
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“C’mon,” she said, pulling back the bedcovers. “It’s warmer in here.”

Right away—gut reaction—I stiffened. “Uh,” I mumbled uneasily. “Joc, uh...”

I could feel it, a goddamn kick-ass power blush taking over every inch of my face.

Eyes narrowed, Joc collapsed onto her back and stared up at me. “What is this, Dyl?” she asked, her voice very cool. “You come over here to jerk me around?”

“No!” I said, my flush deepening. “I wouldn’t do that, you know that.”

“Then what?” she asked, her expression softening.

“Well,” I said, then stopped. Why is it always so hard to
think
when you need to? “I
want
to...,” I muttered nervously, “you know...”

Before I could stop them, my eyes slid to Joc’s chest. Still in the T-shirt she’d worn for sleeping, she obviously wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Well,” I said again, stammering a little. “I mean, I
want
to touch you, but...”

“So touch me, Goofus,” said Joc, smiling at me.

I took a very long, very shaky breath. Slowly, the way you reach out in a dream, I placed a hand on one of Joc’s breasts. The sweetness I felt then—well, you can forget heartbeat, this was
heatbeat
. Joc’s eyes closed, her lips parted slightly, and I just had to lean forward and kiss her again.

Then I took my hand away.

“No, Dyl,” said Joc, opening her eyes. “That’s not the way it goes. C’mere.” Taking hold of my wrists, she tried to pull me down on top of her.

“Wait,” I said, pulling back. “Can we just wait with that for a bit?”

“What—you don’t want to?” asked Joc, staring at me in bewilderment.

“Yeah, I
want
to,” I said. “But can’t we, well, get
used
to this first? You know—you and me, just
being
like this?”

“I know what I feel,” said Joc.

“Yeah,” I said, “I know what I feel too. And I also know that we’ve been friends forever, and we know each other inside out. But this is something different, something new. I just want a chance to get kind of
used
to it first, y’know?”

Joc grinned, exasperated, then said, “I hope you’re not going to say you want to wait until we’re married.”

“No,” I grinned back. “Not until we’re married. But right now I just want to get used to being madly in love with your little finger. Because I am—
totally
. I am totally, madly, completely in love with this little finger here.”

Lifting her left hand, I kissed her pinkie.

A definite blush swept Joc’s face. “Gosh darn, Dyllie,” she mumbled, her eyes flitting away. “You’re a romantic.”

“Well,” I said, hardly able to believe that for once she was blushing more than I was. “It’s like that globe Ms. Fowler has in her office. You ever seen it?”

Joc shook her head.

“She told me she bought it because it was bigger than her head,” I said.

Obviously not getting it, Joc just looked at me.

“Well,” I said, struggling, not quite getting it myself, “that’s the way this feels to me. Y’know, sex, love—it’s so
big
. Bigger than my head, my groin, my entire body. And I want...I mean... well...”

I paused, trying to figure out what
exactly
I goddamn meant. “Well,” I stammered finally, “I want sex...with you...”

My eyes flicked across Joc’s, and I saw we were both in power blush mode. “Well,” I stammered on, “I want it to be the most incredible experience of my life. I mean, I want it to be really
us
, something we’re sure of, not just something we did. Because...”

Suddenly it was all welling up inside me, the whole fucking mess—Cam, Sheila, Joc, me, even Dikker—and tears started sliding down my face.

“I don’t want either of us to get hurt, okay?” I blurted. “Because I love you, Joc. And I want to feel as if whatever we do,
it’s love, y’know? True love, the kind that can just let itself be.”

“Oh my god,” mumbled Joc, and I saw she was crying too. “C’mere, Goofus,” she whispered. “I promise I won’t ravish you. Just c’mere.”

This time I did let her pull me down beside her. And then, slowly, as if we were in some kind of incredible parallel universe, we put our arms around each other and nuzzled into each other’s hair. And
then
we just lay there like that, getting used to the feel of it, the whole astonishing
impossible
sweetness.

“Y’see,” I mumbled into Joc’s neck, “I figure, if I work at it, it’ll take me maybe one or two months to get used to being in love with your little finger. And then maybe in half a year or so, I’ll be able to give you a hickey—”

“Half a year!” wailed Joc, directly into my ear.

“Okay,” I said. “A couple of weeks?” “Only if you promise to autograph it,” smiled Joc, brushing the hair back from my face.

Y’know, when Joc is smiling, she has the softest, most absolutely beautiful face in the universe.

“Deal,” I said, and we kissed on it.

Chapter Twenty-three

After we’d finished shoving the dresser back into its original position, Joc grinned at me over the top and said, “Tim, right?”

“Yeah,” I said emphatically. “His car was gone when I got here, but...”

I shrugged.

“He went over to a friend’s place,” said Joc, looking thoughtful. “He might be back for lunch though.”

“Crap,” I said, ducking a wave of panic. “What should I do? Sneak out the back?”

Joc grimaced, considering, then said, “Why don’t we pretend we’re back to being just friends? He should be okay with that. The way you took off the last time you were here, he pretty much figured you agreed with him anyway.”

“Agreed with him!” I said, astounded. “I was fucking
scared
. I never would’ve thought Tim could get so weird about something like that. And then when you weren’t in school Friday, and Monday you just stopped talking to me, I wondered...”

I paused, not quite sure how to put it.

“I didn’t know what to say,” Joc said hastily. “Like you said,
the whole thing was weird. It’d be weird with anyone, but with you...”

She faltered, her eyes flicking past mine, then added, “The best friend thing, you know.”

“Yeah,” I said softly, “I know.”

We were silent for a moment and then Joc said, “I’ve always felt this way about you, y’know. Well, since grade seven. Dikker turned me on too—I’m bi-curious, I guess, like they say on the net. But it’s always been stronger with you.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” I said. “What the hell did you see in Dikker, anyway?”

A huge grin split Joc’s face and she giggled. “He pissed you off,” she said. “Every time you saw me with him, you practically levitated off the ground. I could always count on it. Besides, Dikker was fun, at least until he got into that
Hamlet
shit. Holla bolla, moron.”

Opening the door, she poked her head into the hall. “It sounds quiet,” she said, listening. “Tim’s probably not back yet. C’mon, let’s get some lunch.”

Cautiously we started down the hall, but came to an abrupt halt as laughter broke out in the kitchen.

“Tim,” hissed Joc, shooting me a nervous glance. “He is back. He’s with Mom.”

I swallowed hard. “It’ll be okay,” I said. “Your mom’ll help us.”

“Maybe,” Joc said dubiously. “I haven’t told her yet—about us dancing and Tim freaking. If we go in there now and he starts freaking, she’ll freak too.”

“C’mon,” I said, “she’s a librarian. Librarians don’t freak.”

“She’s my mom,” said Joc. “Moms freak.”

“My mom didn’t,” I said. “Neither did my dad. Even Danny didn’t.”

“No?” Joc said hopefully. “Well...” She took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s get it over with.”

With a grim look she continued down the hall, and we entered the kitchen to find Tim and Ms. Hersch sitting at the table and talking in relaxed easy voices. Until Tim saw us, that is.

“Goddamn it!” he said, jumping to his feet. “I told you, Joc— not in this house.”

A flush hit Joc and her chin went up, but she held her ground. “It’s my house too,” she snapped back. “I’ll do whatever I want here, and you can just shut up about it.”

“I won’t shut up!” said Tim, his voice rising. “I’ve got a right to say—”

“Just what is going on here?” interrupted their mom, staring at them both. “What the hell has gotten into you two?”

“It’s them,” said Tim, pointing a dramatic finger at us. “They’re fagging around together. I caught them at it the other day and I told Joc not in this house.”

“Fagging around?” repeated Ms. Hersch, shooting Joc a bewildered glance. “What’s he saying, Joc?” Her eyes shifted to me. “You’re not...?”

Joc shot me a helpless glance. “Uh,” she said hesitantly, her flush deepening. “Mom, y’see, it’s kind of like...Dylan and me, we’re...”

I stood beside her, wincing as she tried to stammer out the impossible. I mean, I knew the feeling. The words, what were the goddamn words?

Grabbing her hand, I held on. Then I looked Ms. Hersch square in the eye.

“Joc is my girlfriend,” I said carefully. “We’re going out together, dating—her and me.”

Ms. Hersch’s eyes widened and she stared at me in complete silence. “Oh,” she said finally, her voice flat, the expression
draining from her face. The kitchen got very quiet, and for a moment we all spent time just breathing.

But then the feeling came back into Ms. Hersch’s face. “Dating a girl, are you, Joc?” she said slowly. “Well that’s all right, I suppose. I always thought you were a nice kid, Dylan—just the kind of friend I wanted Joc to have.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Tim, grabbing her arm. “They’re
both
girls.”

“Yes, Tim—I
can
tell a girl from a boy,” snapped Ms. Hersch, rounding on him. “And furthermore, it is none of your blessed business what your sister does in this house. It’s my house, not yours, and if she wants to have her girlfriend Dylan in to visit, that’s fine with me.”

“You’re kidding,” said Tim, his voice skyrocketing.

Ms. Hersch crossed her arms and glared at him. “What exactly is it that has you so upset about this?” she demanded. “Is she pointing a gun at someone, or setting off a bomb, or hijacking a plane? Just what is so terrible about what she’s doing?”

Tim’s face screwed itself up in utter disbelief and he snorted loudly. Then he crossed his arms and sat down with a thump.

“Actually,” said Ms. Hersch, sitting down too, “if I had it to do over again, I’d choose a woman as a lover. They’re a lot easier to get along with, believe me.”

A grin leapt onto Joc’s face. “You still can, Mom,” she said.

Tim’s eyes bugged and he sank back in his chair. “I think I’m moving out,” he said faintly.

“Well fine,” said Ms. Hersch. “If you’re not prepared to respect your sister and live by my rules, then you’re certainly welcome to find somewhere else to live.”

“I might just do that,” snapped Tim. Getting to his feet, he stormed toward the door. As he passed, Joc and I took a simultaneous step back and turned to watch him stomp into
the front hall. Emphatic muttering followed as he pulled on his shoes, and then the front door opened and slammed shut behind him.

Joc let out a whoop. “So much for Big Brother,” she grinned. “Actually, make that Big Bother.”

“Has he been giving you trouble?” asked Ms. Hersch, patting the table. “C’mon you two, come and sit down here with me.”

With a glad smile Joc scooted into the chair beside her mom, and I sat down across from them. “He yelled a bit when he first found out,” Joc said eagerly. “But other than that, he’s mostly been grunting and glowering.”

“You took him by surprise, that’s all,” said her mom, lighting a cigarette. “He’s taking a bit of a fit, but he’ll come around. Probably just scared, that’s all.”

“Scared of what?” demanded Joc. “Dylan is hardly Frankenstein.”

“You’re his sister,” said her mom. “He’s afraid that if you’re lesbian, he might be gay.”

Another flush hit Joc and her eyes darted toward the window. I knew what she was thinking—
Lesbian!
The word took some getting used to.

“It’s not contagious,” she shrugged finally, her eyes flicking across mine. A smile wobbled across her mouth, and I wobbled one in reply. “Anyway,” she added, turning back to her mom, “he should know himself better than that.”

“Should doesn’t have much to do with real life,” Ms. Hersch said thoughtfully. “As long as the people you spend time with are just like you, you don’t have to ask questions about yourself. It’s only when you meet someone different that the questions start. Anyway, Tim’ll get over it. I know my son, he’s straight as a pin. And as prickly. Now, you two must be hungry. How about a grilled cheese sandwich?”

“Let me make you one, Mom,” said Joc, half-rising out of her chair, a huge grin on her face. I could just about see the relief coming off her in waves.
Happy
—Joc was happy.

So was I.

“No, no, no,” said her mom, lifting both hands. “You’ll burn the top and drip melted cheese everywhere. I don’t have half the afternoon to clean up after you.”

As Ms. Hersch started to get up, Joc caught her arm and held on. “Are you really okay with it, Mom?” she asked. “I mean, really?”

For a moment that nothing expression came back onto Ms. Hersch’s face and she stood motionless, looking down at Joc. “Honey,” she said finally, “you’re my daughter. Whatever you are and whatever you do, you’re mine. You’ve been full of surprises since day one, and I’m sure this isn’t the last curve you’ll throw me, but what the hell, I’m a big girl now and I can handle it. So you just concentrate on figuring things out for yourself and don’t worry about me, okay?”

Blinking rapidly, Joc ducked her head. “Okay,” she whispered, brushing at her eyes. “It’s just...it
matters
, y’know—what you think.”

Ms. Hersch stood, looking down at Joc as she dragged on her cigarette. Then she gave Joc’s shoulder a quick pat.

“Well, now you know,” she said gruffly, “what I think. Okay?”

Joc nodded, not looking up, and they stayed like that for a bit. Then Ms. Hersch straightened, heaved a sigh and said, “What would you like, Dylan—one grilled cheese sandwich or two?”

BOOK: Hello Groin
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