So, just a little heads up: If you're here looking only to drain your balls, look somewhere else, because you won't find what you need. Not yet at least. Don't worry, there will be sex scenes coming up, but I'm not into random, instantaneous sex. I want to build these characters' relationship first and have them get to know each other and care about each other first.
I phoned the house on the way back home. No answer. Good. I had no desire to listen to my family's remarks and questions about my date. I knew that the only way to get a temporary reprieve from it was to wait to come home until the house was empty. The only problem was that Danielle might still be home. She has avoids answering the house phone with a zeal that's almost religious in nature. In fact, she often doesn't even care enough to answer her cell phone. It's obnoxious, but I admire the degree to which she just does not give a shit. I, on the other hand, answer my cell and texts as often as possible. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that her being home might not be such a bad thing. I would inevitably want to tell someone about it, and further discussing the issue with my friends was out of the question, as I did not want the chain reaction Amanda probably already caused to get even more out of hand.
I entered the house and called out, "anyone home?"
Danielle answered from upstairs in her room. I threw my keys down and went in her room.
"Where is everyone?"
"Well, mom's out doing errands. She said she'd be a while, thank God. Hal (stepdad) is at the office. Eric is across the street playing with his friends," she replied uninterestedly. She was watching TV from her bed and hadn't even looked at me once while talking. My relationship with her was complex. She and I both really loved each other-about as much as siblings can-but our way of showing it was to act as unloving as possible. We rarely hugged, and I swear it will snow on the hills of hell before we say "I love you" out loud to each other (we'd say something like "love ya" on aim while I was at school, but that was about it). So, therefore, I didn't take her apparent apathy to be anything but our normal form of interaction.
I sat down on her bed next to her. This got her attention, and she gave me a look that could kill.
"Get off my bed. You smell like sexual frustration," she said. I got off her bed and sat on the floor and started talking.
"Ha, ain't that the truth. I'm actually cock-blocking myself. I'm being cock-blocked by my own sense of self-respect. We had an amazing time. We held hands in the mall and had the most amazing kiss." I was gushing like a schoolgirl, something that Danielle could absolutely not let slide.
"Ugh, you're like a woman. And you're stupid. Really stupid."
"Why am I stupid? What the fuck did I say that was stupid?"
"You're sitting here complaining that you didn't crawl into bed with this kid on your second date. There is no shame in not being a whore you retard. Plus, you and I both know that after the...incident...with your roommate, you are in absolutely no position to have casual sex. So cut the bullshit please."
"Yeah, I guess you're right douchebag. And, you know, I thought that after that whole thing I wouldn't be able to do anything sexually for a while. Even the idea of kissing someone made me sick. But, I know this sounds retarded and, as you would say, "really gay," but it's totally different with him. It's fucking crazy. I just want him so bad. He's super hot, nice, funny, kind, all the shit that you want in a person. Plus, for some reason, he seems to really, really like me. He came with me to my piano lesson. He said he was actually interested in learning more about classical mus..." I was abruptly cut short.
"I swear to God if you start talking about classical music to me, I will cut your balls off and feed them to you," Danielle warned. I just laughed.
"Fuck you. The point I'm trying to make is that he's interested in me, and I'm interested in him." I paused, thinking about what to say next. I sighed and said "I actually really have no idea what I want. I want to have sex with him, but at the same time, I really, really am not ready to have sex again."
"No, you're absolutely not ready to have sex with him. I know you might be worried about pushing him away because you think you'll seem uninterested. But you need to think about your own emotional needs. You have this bad tendency to put people you care about before yourself. And while that's nice every once in a while, or even in general, you can't do it to such a degree that you completely ignore your instincts. You wind up pressuring YOURSELF into things you don't want to do. You're a weird combination of retarded and sweet. Work on that. Now please get out so I can finish watching Law and Order." I sat and thought for a minute. I looked at her and wondered how I got so lucky to have her as a sister. I am the kind of person that needs someone like that to jolt me back into reality and to help me realize things that I've already realized at a subconscious level. I walked up silently, left, and went to my room and lay on my bed. I looked up to the ceiling, and I had literally no thoughts in my head. It was like my mind was trying to grasp on to what I should be feeling and thinking, but just couldn't succeed. This continued for about five minutes.
Then, all of the sudden, for reasons I don't quite understand, a single tear fell down my cheek. I wiped it with my index finger, brought my finger in front of my face, stared at it for a moment, and then starting bawling my eyes out. I was crying harder than I'd cried for a while. Sometimes, when you eat two foods, both with bold flavors that are complete opposites of one another, they clash in your stomach and make you sick. That's what was happening to me mentally. The trauma of my college experience, that dull emotional ache that had been in the background of my mind for the past month, was suddenly being challenged by a happiness that I thought I'd be unable to experience, and it was not sitting well. I cried and cried for another two minutes before I heard my door open. I looked up at Danielle. She had a blank expression on her face that betrayed no emotions. She stared at me for a minute, then sat down on the bed and hugged me tightly. I held on to her and cried into her shoulder. I cried for ten minutes, neither of us saying a single word. When I calmed down she let go of me and looked at me intently.
"From now on, it's only going to get better. No matter what happens with this kid, it will only get better," she stated both matter-of-factly and cryptically. With that, she stood up and went back to her room. I collected myself, walked out to the deck and chain smoked like I've never done before. When I started to get nauseous from the tobacco I stopped, cried a little bit more, and took a long shower to calm myself down. As soon as my shower was over, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was enlivened and gripped by a sudden overwhelming urge to assert myself strongly and proudly. I dried off as fast as I could, picked up my phone, and called Brent. After three rings he answered.
"Hey, what's up?" he asked, excited I had called.
"Um nothing. I just want to talk to you about something."
"Okay, shoot."
"I like you. A lot. I want to go out with you more. I want this to turn into a relationship. I want you to be my boyfriend. I really do. But, I want to warn you ahead of time that I'm not ready to have sex with you yet. It's not that I don't find you attractive, because that's faaaarrrrr from being the case. It's just that I recently have had some bad experiences with sex, and I'm not emotionally ready to do something like that again. If and when we have sex, I want it to be about love, not just about fucking." I paused. "I'm sorry if I sounded like a crazy person just now. I don't want to scare you away or anything. If you don't feel the same way about me that's totally cool. I was probably rushing things anyway. I just wanted to tell you how I felt so we could avoid the bullshit." I waited for his response with more anticipation than I've ever felt.
"I'm really glad you said that."
"Really?" I asked incredulously.
"Yeah. I feel the same way about you. I was afraid to say anything because I didn't want to seem like, obsessed or something. But, just so you have no doubts anymore, you ARE my boyfriend. And don't think you can try to get out of it." He and I both laughed as he said that in a mock-threatening voice. Then he paused and his voice got softer: "Because I care about you too much." I was speechless, gripped with happiness. My heart fluttered in my chest, and as corny as it sounds, I thought to myself that this is what love was supposed to feel like. I didn't have any articulate response to that, so I just said "right back at ya buddy." He laughed, and soon I started laughing soon.
"Listen," he said, restarting our conversation. "I don't know what happened in your past that has made sex something to be scared of, but I don't want you to worry for a minute. If I only wanted you for sex, you wouldn't have my phone number right now. We wouldn't have gone out together. Either way, I don't sleep around. Sex, to me, is more emotional than physical, and when the time is right for us-for you-we'll know. Until then, as long as I get to hold your hand, talk to you, and maybe even kiss you every once in a while, that's more than enough for me."
"You know something, you've got to be one of the best people I've ever met," I said, blown away by his compassion. "Oh, and don't worry about the kissing thing. If you manage to say a single word next time we see each other, I'll be impressed, because I plan on attacking your lips," I giggled. He did too.
"Well good, because they could use a little attacking right about now."
"God, you're amazing," I said to him. He laughed and mocked me by saying "right back at ya, buddy."
I laughed and said "Hey now, don't be making fun of me for the way I talk. I can't help it when I'm around you...you make me speechless." I blushed after saying that, and I could practically hear him blushing too over the phone. After an awkward pause, he said "right back at ya, buddy," and then laughed in hysterics, apparently quite impressed with himself.
We talked for another half hour or so, just about random things and stuff going on in our lives. Nothing interesting, but it was nice just to hear his voice. We agreed to see each other again tomorrow night. I, in the meantime, was ecstatic to be able to say I had an actual boyfriend. This was only my second time having a real boyfriend, and even the first time was kind of a joke. I was bouncing up and down in my room when I hung up the phone from sheer excitement. I decided I had to tell Danielle, even though she'd probably come up with some way to make fun of me for it. I didn't care. I just needed to tell someone close to me right away.
I bolted into her door. She looked up at me and said, "what have I told you about knocking before coming in here? What if I was naked?"
"Sorry, but guess what?" I asked, not giving her time to answer. "I have a boyfriend!"
"What?"
"I called Brent to let him know from the start that I wanted to wait to have sex. Ya know, to give him a chance to back out of this if he was more interested in sex than anything else. Anyway, I stupidly wound up blurting out that I wanted to be in a relationship, and said he wanted the same thing! He was trying to make me feel better about saying that, because I had felt bad about maybe being too forward, so he said to me `you're my boyfriend, and don't even try to back out of it.' It was really cute. Then he said that he cared about me and stuff and it was fucking awesome." Again, I was rambling.
"Jon, do you have any idea what this means?" She asked incredulously.
"What do you mean?"
"If you guys are, like, `official,' that means that you're...well...it means you're dating Laker's son! This is like a big deal. If you guys really get serious, you're going to be in magazines and in the news. I know you don't follow this shit, but he's literally a celebrity. He's like an icon of change and shit and, especially because he's hot, he's HUGE! I see his picture all the fucking time! This means that the first time you and him are spotted together, people are going to start asking questions. The media is gunna pry into this, find out who you are, and then you might as well be dating Britney fucking Spears, it will be that big a deal."
"Well, I guess we'll have to be discreet for a while. But I mean if it gets like wicked serious then I guess we'll have to wind up dealing with it. But for know we'll just cross that bridge when we get to it." I paused for a minute. "I don't like the idea that he's popular because he's hot. He has a lot more to offer than just his looks...although they are pretty nice." I smiled wide. She just rolled her eyes at me.
"You know, I won't lie. I'm a little bit jealous of you. He's so fucking hot! Ugh, you asshole you're going to get to have sex with him! You're going to have every girl and fag in America hating you pretty soon."
"Yeah well they'll just have to deal, because this `fag' got there first!" I smiled and left the room, beaming with elation.
When my parents came home I avoided the subject of my date earlier in the day as much as possible, brushing all the questions off with answers like "yeah," and "it went well." They eventually figured out I didn't want to talk about it, so they left me alone about it.
The next day dragged on with anticipation. It was painfully slow. Finally nighttime came, and I headed out the door and into my car to dinner. We went to a pretty nice Japanese restaurant, as per my suggestion. I'm really into Japanese culture and language (not like anime and stuff, but more like the actual culture and history). I take Japanese at school and am a big sushi fan. We met outside the door, and once again his agents were dressed as normal people. He wasn't wearing a sweatshirt this time, but rather regular, nice clothes from Abercrombie or something like that. I was struck by how amazing he looked in them. I walked up to him and smiled, and, in response, he gave me that killer smile of his that made my heart beat a little faster. As I got closer he said, "hey sexy. What's up?" It made me feel so good that I just beamed and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around my back and kissed the side of my face. I liked that we were getting close with each other so quickly. One thing I hate about dating is that you have to go through this month long period of ambiguity before you can really touch each other and kiss each other whenever you want, without it being something that you BOTH have to practically plan out beforehand.
"Nothin," I said through my grin. He pulled back and made some space between us, letting his hands slide down to my hips. "So are you ready to have your first authentic Japanese meal?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty pumped, but you'll have to show me what to get and what's good and stuff. I don't know anything about this stuff."
"Don't worry, I'll be your guide through the world of washoku," I said smiling.
"What's `washoku'?" he asked, slowly sounding out the word.
"It's the Japanese word for Japanese food. C'mon, let's go in and get a table. I come here a lot with my Japanese professor so they know me here. We'll get good service."
"Sweet," he said.
We entered the restaurant and the hostess, Mayo, looked up at me and smiled. She then bowed slightly at the hips and said happily "Konbanwa, Jonasan." Konbanwa means `good evening,' and Jonasan is the Japanese equivalent of Jonathan.
"Konbanwa, Ueda-san. Cono hitoha watashi no tomodachi desu. Onamaeha, Brent desu. Osushi wo tabetaidesu," I replied. (translation: Good evening, Ms. Ueda. This is my friend Brent. We'd like to have some sushi).
"Soudesuka. Jaa, kiitekudasai," she replied, guiding us toward a low table. (translation: Oh, ok. Well, come [with me]). The room was dimly lit and the atmosphere was distinctly and authentically Japanese. It smelled amazing. Once we were seated, she handed us the menus, bowed, and left. Brent looked at me, slightly amazed and said "you didn't tell me you spoke Japanese! Jesus, what other secrets are you hiding?" he asked jokingly.
"Well, I'd hardly call it `speaking Japanese.' I take it at college and I'm just starting out. But the program is pretty impressive and I've learned a lot already I guess. But I really am nowhere near being fluent."
"Well, it's a hell of a lot more than I can say."
"Haha, well with 45,000 dollars invested, I should hope so."
"Jesus, college is so fucking expensive today. I feel bad that so many kids can barely afford to go," he said. He paused. "Is the cost, like, tough on your parents? If you don't mind me asking."
"No it's fine that you asked. Well, it would be, but thank God I have a scholarship that takes care most of the cost."
"What kind of scholarship do you have?"
"Um, it's like an academic scholarship because of my grades in high school and my involvement in clubs and other activities I guess. It covers the tuition, which is most of the cost."
"How much is tuition. Again, if you don't mind me asking."
"Hey don't worry about it." I paused, then said softly, "you can ask me anything." I blushed and looked down. He put his arm across the table and opened his hand and I interlocked his fingers with mine. We stared at each other stupidly for a little bit before I shook myself out of the trance I was in and answered his question: "Um, anyway, tuition is something like 38,000 dollars a year. My parents pay about 10,000 a year to cover books and room and board and other fees. In comparison to what a lot of my friends go through, I guess we got pretty lucky."
"Damn. That's a lot of money that you're saving there. You'll have a hell of a lot less debt than most kids by the end of school."
"Yeah and it's a good thing too, because there's still grad school to pay for after that! It never fucking ends. Everything costs money." We both laughed.
"So, now it's my turn to ask you a question. Are you, like, rich?" I felt bad for asking the question and talking about money, but I figured since he was the one to bring up the topic he must be okay talking about it.
"Um, yeah I guess you could say that. Well, yeah, you actually could definitely say that." His tone made it clear to me that he was in no way bragging about it or arrogant about it. He was just stating the facts. "But my dad never wanted me to be one of those spoiled rich kids, so he didn't make it appear that money just grew on trees for us. He used to make me work at a part time job to make my own money, but we decided it was best for me to quit when my family started getting a lot more public attention."
We then ordered our food, as Mayo had come back to take our orders. I ordered for both of us, since he didn't know what he wanted. I got a bunch of different rolls, which I liked and which had only a little bit of raw fish. I didn't think giving him straight up hunks of raw fish his first time was a good idea. However, I ordered a couple pieces of nice-sized chunks of raw tuna draped over a ball of stuck-together rice. When the food came, I showed him how to use the chopsticks and how much wasabi to put on the sushi. He wasn't prepared for the extremely head burn you get when you eat wasabi, and his face turned all red and he hit the table with is hand a few times. I laughed hysterically and he gave me the finger while coughing.
"Goddamn, that was intense! What is that?" he asked, regaining his composure.
"The wasabi just cleared out your sinuses. You're whole head will start to feel a bit cleaner and clearer in a minute. Did you like it or did it hurt too much?"
"I mean, it was intense, but it was pretty cool. I kind of want to have some more for some reason."
"Yeah, that's the way I feel about it. For me, it's almost like a challenge. Like, how much can I take. Plus, it doesn't happen every time you eat it. You'll be eating a little piece, and nothing will happen. Then maybe you'll have like two or three more and still nothing will happen. Then on like the fourth or fifth time, it will hit you out of nowhere again. It's like a little surprise kick in the meal."
It turned out that he really liked that sushi. He had a really big appetite and ate a lot of the rolls. He was a little bit intimidated by the big pieces that I ordered for myself, and wound up declining my offer to him to try some. After we finished eating he told me that we absolutely had to come back to this place. I was happy that I had turned him on to something new and that now we both definitely had a food we liked. From that point on, this restaurant would become "our" restaurant. It was our first dinner date and that place will always be special to me. We come here every anniversary. Woops, got a little ahead there.
Throughout dinner we talked about a wide array of things. We wound up learning lots of each other's interests and family dynamics, plans for the future, things in the past, etc. We learned that we had a lot in common, and my feelings for him only deepened during the dinner.
When we were done eating, we paid the bill (we split it) and said goodbye to Mayo and the other staff/waiters that I knew there. The agents slipped out behind us, and only then did I realize how good they were at staying hidden this whole time. It was pretty impressive, but also kind of creepy. They were sort of like paid stalkers. Outside we walked over to his limo and he leaned his back against it as I leaned onto him. He enveloped me with his arms and I put mine around his neck. We stared at each other for a minute and then kissed. It was slow at first, but then became more and more passionate. We used tongue this time, and I loved the feeling of part of me being inside of him and vice versa. We stayed like that, making out in the dimly lit parking lot for a solid five minutes before we heard a whistle. We pulled apart and looked up to see two smiling girls walking past us. We smiled back at them. Brent gave them a little wave and one of them called back, "that was hot!" I yelled back "thanks!"
I turned back to Brent and said, "guess we got a little carried away there."
He smiled and said, "well how could I not. You're so sexy." As he said that he leaned in for another kiss. It was shorter this time, lasting only a second or two, but it was just as electrifying.
"Not half as sexy as you are Brent."
"Ha, yeah right."
"Seriously, you have no fucking idea how hot you are. God, looking at you makes me horny."
"Same to you baby." We both blushed a little after I heard him call me `baby.' He clearly hadn't thought about what he was saying because he looked so embarrassed. I wanted to say something to make him feel better, but I waited a little bit because he was just so fucking cute while he was embarrassed.
"Baby," I said very articulately, "I like it when you call me baby."
"Oh yeah," he said with a sexy voice. He leaned closer and said, "what about `baby boy'?"
"Oh God, I like that even better. If you call me that you'll basically be able to get me to do anything you want. I've never told anyone this, but that's like the nickname I always imagined my boyfriend would call me." I blushed a million shades of red after confessing that secret fantasy to him.
"Okay, baby boy, that's your name from now on." I attacked his lips with mine after he said that. Something about that name just turns me the fuck on. I broke the kiss and leaned my head into his chest. "Uggghhh, I don't want to leave you right now," I mumbled into his chest. He kissed the top of my hair.
"I know, me neither. But I think it might be a little too soon for a sleepover. Parents might be a little upset at that one," he laughed.
"Ohhhhh yeah, my mom would not be okay with that happening after three dates," I laughed back.
"Alright well then we should go now, because if we stay here like this any longer I'm going to throw you in the limo and take you back home with me," he said.
"God that would be awesome. But you're right," I admitted. We kissed a final time, passionately, and then said our goodbyes. My head was spinning as I got into my car from sheer delight. I literally smiled the entire way home.
When I got home, it was about ten o'clock. Eric was already asleep, but mom, the stepdouche and Danielle were sitting in the living room reading/using the computer.
"Where were you?" my mother asked. I grinned wide and said "on a date."
"You mean...with him?" my mom asked, clearly flabbergasted.
"Yes, I mean with BRENT," I articulated, trying to make them realize he was an actual human being and not a picture in a magazine.
"God I can't believe this is actually happening. How was it?" she asked.
"Amazing," I said, sitting down next to her and leaning against her shoulder. She started scratching my arm. I'm sort of like a cat: I love getting scratched and taking naps. "We, um, are what you would call `official' now."
"Have you kissed him yet," Danielle asked before my mom could comment on my last statement.
"Now that is none of your fucking business," I said smiling at her.
"Oh whatever you know you'll just tell me later." She was right. I knew I would find myself in the basement with her later that night discussing the date in vivid detail.
"Jon," my stepdad said seriously, "I want you to understand what you're getting yourself into here. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, but I've spent a lot of time in Washington and I know politics. You're not just dating any old person. Hell, you're not just dating any old politician's son. You're dating the son of the guy who's probably going to be president. Furthermore, this kid is really the first president's child to reach this level of celebrity and fame. When it gets out that you two are...a couple...it's going to be national news. People will stare at you. Strangers will talk to you. The media will follow you. I'm not telling you not to pursue a relationship with him, but I want you to prepare yourself for what's going to happen, because not all of it is going to be fun."
Oooohhhhh dramatic ending. Anyway, as usual, email with questions/comments/whatever at jonnymanmeg@hotmail.com
Peace!