Invisible Girl - an Erotic Romance

Chapter Thirty-Five

"So—how did the dinner run go last night?" asked Suzy.

She and Jane were unpacking and hanging a shipment of baby clothes at the back of the store while Mrs. Jorgenson minded the register. It was a rainy day, and there were no customers in the store.

"Oh, fine," replied Jane. "I just brought him some sandwiches and stuff. He works at The Word Works—you know, the bookstore?"

"Oh sure." Suzy concentrated for a moment on a tiny dress that wouldn't stay on its hanger. Then she asked, with a sly smile, "Did he show his appreciation?" and when Jane looked quizzically at her explained, "Did he, you know, kiss you or anything?"

Jane made a show of being shocked, then snorted in derision. "Oh,

sure

, Suzy—right in the middle of the store. They had to pull us apart."

Suzy guffawed. Well, I'm sorry I missed it." Then, irrepressibly, she went on, "Is he a good kisser?"

"

Su

-zy...!" Jane couldn't help but be amused by her frank curiosity.

"Well, is he?"

Jane smiled down at the dress she was holding as if she could see Peter's face there, then nodded and said, as if to herself, "Oh yes."

"Well thank goodness for that," Suzy exclaimed. "

My

last boyfriend thought that kisses had to be really wet so he was always slobbering all over my mouth. Ugh!"

She made a disgusted face and shook her head as if to rid herself of the memory. "Well, he seems very nice. Peter, I mean."

"He is."

"But not

too

nice, I hope," said Suzy, with a sideways glance.

Jane put her hands on her hips in a show of mock outrage. "Why, Suzy Jorgenson, what

ever

do you mean?" They looked at each other for a moment, then collapsed into giggles.

"You know very well what I mean," Suzy persisted, still smiling. "How long have you been going out with him?"

Going out

?

Just once, at your party...and we had to pretend we didn't know each other,

thought Jane, a little ruefully

.

"A couple of months," she replied, surprised, even as she said it, that it had only been that long.

Suzy raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Two months? And you kept it a secret that whole time? " Jane nodded, and Suzy said, "Wow," shaking her head. "If

I

had a boyfriend like that I'd tell everybody." Jane couldn't keep a proud smile from spreading across her face at this.

Then Suzy quirked her mouth impishly and went on, "So I guess if you've been together all that time...it's more than kissing, isn't it?" And when Jane hesitated instead of denying it outright, crowed, "Ah-ha! I knew it!"

She must have spoken a little too enthusiastically, because her exclamation drew an inquisitive look from Mrs. Jorgenson. "I

knew

they'd gotten the sizes all mixed up in here," Suzy said, pointing to the box of dresses. "Well, let's sort 'em out before we hang any more."

She knelt on the floor next to the box and Jane followed suit. They pretended to be sorting through the dresses—which were, of course, perfectly in order—until Suzy's mother returned her attention to the catalog she was looking at by the register. Then Suzy looked up at Jane and whispered, "C'mon, spill. How far have you gone?"

Jane was sure that Suzy wouldn't be able to handle the entire truth.

Well

, she imagined herself saying,

last night after I brought Peter his dinner I unzipped his pants and put his cock in my mouth while he was running the register

.

No. Instead she whispered back, "Now wait a minute. How come I'm the only one telling secrets? How far have

you

gone?" She figured that Suzy's answer would give her a clue how much to reveal.

Suzy, taken aback, looked down. "Well..."

She glanced over at her mother to make sure she wasn't paying attention, then leaned forward conspiratorially and said, "I let Joe Haworth—you know, from the football team?" Jane nodded and Suzy went on, "He's the sloppy kisser I told you about."

She took another anxious glance at her mother before continuing, "Well, one night when we were, you know, making out in his car I let him...touch me here," indicating her chest with a nervous flutter of her fingers. She looked down and added in an undertone, "Well, I...I let him take off my...my blouse too." She looked up from under her eyebrows at Jane as if gauging whether Jane had been shocked.

Jane simply nodded as if it was about what she'd expected—which it was—and asked, "Did you like it?"

Suzy looked doubtful. "Well, at first. It's really kind of neat when a boy's all excited because of you, you know?"

Jane smiled knowingly and nodded, and Suzy continued, "I really liked that, and at first he was really gentle and it felt nice. That's why I let him...you know." Jane nodded again. "And it felt so...sexy to let him see me like that. But then he started...you know, grabbing them and squeezing so hard that it hurt, and I told him to stop and he wouldn't and he started trying to put his hand under my skirt and..."

She trailed off, her face shadowed by the memory. "I had to slap him to get him to stop...and that was my last date with Mr. Sloppy Joe." She tried to smile but her expression was rueful. "Are they all like that? Peter's not, is he?"

Jane shook her head and tried to reassure her. "He never tries to make me do anything I don't want to do with him."

Because there isn't anything

, she thought to herself with a smile.

She found that she wanted to share a little more about Peter with Suzy, and decided to describe one of her favorite memories—in a heavily revised and censored version, of course. She leaned forward and whispered, "But he loves it when I do things to get him excited. One time when he was outside my house and my parents were gone I stood in front of the window and took off everything..." She made a quick editing decision and finished, "...but my underwear."

Suzy's eyes went completely round and Jane thought she'd overdone it after all. Then Suzy broke out in what appeared to be a smile of admiration and said, "Really? Wow, Janey, you're really

something

! Ooo, I'll bet he liked that!"

Jane nodded as she smiled at the memory of what had actually happened. Then, unable to resist icing the cake, whispered, "And he

touched

himself while I did it!"

Suzy's mouth was now as round as her eyes. "No! You mean..."

She gestured toward her lap, and when Jane nodded, whispered, "Wow! He actually...took it out? And he knew you could see him?" Jane nodded again and Suzy repeated, "Wow," and hugged herself with glee at the naughtiness of it, saying with a grin, "Ooo, I wish I could have seen that! Tell me when you're going to do it again so I can hide in the bushes and watch!"

This made them both burst into laughter, which of course drew Mrs. Jorgenson's attention, so they went back to work, but not before exchanging the looks and smiles of friends who had shared secrets.

All the rest of that day Suzy took every opportunity to pester Jane for more details. What did Peter's penis look like? (She was astonished to learn about erections.) How did he touch it? (For obvious reasons Jane chose not to mention that Peter had used a pair of her panties.) What kind of underwear had Jane been wearing? (Jane substituted something more glamorous than the plain whites she'd actually worn.) How had he reacted when Jane started taking off her clothes, and what did it feel like to do it? (Jane related those details with relish: how Peter had been nearly hypnotized by her; how powerful and sexy she'd felt.)

In her enthusiasm she even showed Suzy her favorite pose—after first making sure that Mrs. Jorgenson wasn't looking—and tried to describe how it felt to have Peter look at her when she was in it.

By the end of the day Suzy was looking dazed. "Gosh, I wish I had a boyfriend now!" she said to Jane.

They were retrieving Jane's bicycle from the back room, where Mrs. Jorgenson had suggested she store it that day because of the rain. "I'd almost go out with Joe again, just to drive him crazy." She put her hands behind her head and struck the pose Jane had shown her, then made a fashion-model pout and wiggled her hips before breaking into giggles. "I'd have to tie him to a chair or something first, though."

Jane pretended to take the idea seriously and said, "Well, that might be fun."

It was still pouring outside, and Mrs. Jorgenson kindly suggested that Jane put her bike in the trunk of the car and get a ride home with them. Jane was more than happy to accept.

She carried her bike through the store, so as not to soil the carpet, then, with Suzy holding the front door open for her, dashed out into the rain. Mrs. Jorgenson was already there, huddled under an umbrella and standing next to the open trunk of her car. Between them they managed to wrestle the bike into the trunk and shut the lid while Suzy was locking the shop door. Mrs. Jorgenson then hustled Jane around to the driver's side of the car and opened the back door for her then got in herself while Suzy ran to get into the front seat on the other side.

As Jane started to climb in she suddenly saw, out of the corner of her eye, a ghostly face peering at her through the rain-drenched windshield of the car behind her.

Chrissy.

Of course. She wouldn't let a little thing like a downpour get in the way of finding out what she wanted to know. Jane didn't know what to do; she didn't want to ask Mrs. Jorgenson to wait and she knew it would make Chrissy more nervous, if that was possible. So she tried to meet Chrissy's eye as well as she could through the rain and the water rippling down the front of the windshield between them. Then she nodded, once, twice.

Chrissy's pale face behind the windshield looked to Jane like that of a drowned person, and the illusion was reinforced when she made no gesture to acknowledge that she had seen and understood Jane. Jane looked at her for a moment longer, then climbed into the car and pulled the door shut.

"I saw Chrissy again today," she told Peter when he called. "It was pouring rain and she was

still

waiting for me in her car."

Peter made an amused noise and said, "She needs to get a hobby or something."

"You mean, besides Father Brian?"

"Yeah. So did you talk to her?"

"No, I couldn't. I was with Suzy and her mom. I tried to kind of signal her but it was like she couldn't see me."

"Well, you

are

the Invisible Girl..."

"Very funny. No, it was kind of spooky. Well, maybe her windshield was fogged up or something, I don't know.

"Well, she'll probably be waiting for you tomorrow—same time, same place, same station. You can tell her then."

"I guess."

"And speaking of tomorrow...are you coming to watch me graduate?"

"Gee, you mean your boss actually gave you the night off so you can graduate?"

"Nice of him, wasn't it?"

"I'll say. Well, in that case I'll be there."

They talked a little more, then said good night.

Oh, I'll be there all right,

thought Jane, grinning wickedly to herself.

I've got plans for you, Peter McIlvray...

Chapter Thirty-Six

Jane had, in fact, been making plans for Peter's graduation night for some time, and was eagerly looking forward to carrying them out.

She was glad that the store was busy most of the next day, because it made the time go by more quickly—and because Suzy had apparently spent the night thinking of more things to ask Jane.

Lunchtime in particular had been something of a trial as Jane had had to spend most of it either giving tactfully evasive answers to Suzy's sometimes less-than-tactful questions ("I don't

know

how far we're going to go, Suzy—it's not like we've planned it out or anything.") or pretending to be equally uninformed ("I don't think you can get pregnant just from touching it.").

Then there was Chrissy. Jane had expected her to be waiting that evening but not to find her right outside the back door of the shop. She was standing against the wall where she wouldn't be seen from the doorway, and startled Jane more than a little by touching her arm the moment Mrs. Jorgenson had let Jane out and closed the door again.

Jane whirled around to face her. Unnerved by Chrissy's sudden appearance, and more than a little exasperated, she spoke a little sharply. "What? I told you last night, he'll come, didn't you see me?"

Chrissy, although looking right at Jane, seemed not to hear her—or even, somehow, to see her. And although her clothing and grooming were, as always, immaculate she seemed unwell; her hands were shaking slightly and she looked even paler than before. And when she finally spoke it was with a visible effort.

"When?" was all she said, but it seemed to Jane that that one word was heavy with desperation. And again she found herself stirred by pity for Chrissy, and wished she could make her understand that what she really wanted wasn't what she thought it was. But Jane had tried before and had been called a little whore for her trouble, so she wasn't inclined to try again. She decided that she just wanted to get it over with and get Chrissy out of her hair.

"I don't

know

when," she replied. "We have to figure out

where

, first. We can't use my house this time, my parents are home. Don't your parents ever go away?"

Chrissy shook her head. Then her eyes seemed to focus on Jane for the first time. "Find a place. Soon," she said, then turned and walked quickly up the alley to the street.

Jane watched Chrissy's retreating figure and blew out her breath in annoyance. She felt sorry for Chrissy, but if it wasn't for the threat against Peter... Well, she wasn't going to think about it anymore tonight—she had better things to do.

The graduation ceremony was held, as always, in the main hall where the dance had been. Metal folding chairs for the graduating students had been arranged in a semi-circle on the stage behind the podium and more chairs for the audience in rows on the floor

Jane arrived a little bit early in order to stash a few things in her locker, and then found herself a seat near the front row; she wanted to be able to reach Peter the moment the ceremony was over. She was wearing the rose-print blouse and red skirt she had worn the day 'Mr. Peters' had summoned her to the yearbook room; she hoped Peter would see her and remember.

When the school band lurched into "Pomp and Circumstance" and the seniors filed in, looking simultaneously dignified and silly in their black robes and mortarboards. Jane rose to her feet and applauded along with the rest of the audience.

Then her eyes found Peter and she felt a momentary sadness, realizing that this ceremony was bringing Peter another step closer to the day when he would be leaving Ridgeton—and her—for Ohio. Then she shook it off; they still had the rest of the summer, and she planned to make the most of it.

The ceremony itself was a droning bore, of course. The president of the school spouted a number of platitudes about the younger generation's responsibilities for the future, how the ladder of success is only crowded at the bottom, and so on. Then came the handing out of diplomas, another dull ritual enlivened only by the variations in applause as each graduate's name was called: huge swells with cheers and whistles for the most popular; small family smatterings for the lesser-known. Peter received a good-sized cheer when his name was called—not the thundering ovation given to sports heroes but the recognition accorded to someone who was known and liked by a large number of his fellow students—and Jane added her loudest cheers.

When Peter had shaken the principal's hand and received his diploma he turned and looked out at the audience. He waved briefly at someone Jane assumed to be his father. Then his gaze found Jane. He smiled. Then right in front of the entire assembly raised his hand and blew her a kiss. The crowd oohed and laughed and Jane felt herself turning bright red as people sitting nearby turned to look at her and smile.

So much for

that

secret

, she thought.

Whatever happened to the Invisible Girl, anyway?

When at last all the diplomas had been handed out the seniors moved the tassels on their mortarboards from one side to the other to signify their new status—a somewhat pointless exercise as a moment later when the seniors were officially declared graduates the mortarboards were immediately and vigorously tossed into the air, accompanied by loud cheers from everyone in the gymnasium.

The principal's closing remarks went largely unheard as the audience began rushing onto the stage to congratulate the graduates. Jane hurried to reach Peter first and gave him a big hug. Then she pulled his head down close to her mouth and whispered, "Girls' bathroom," gave him a quick kiss, not caring who might be watching, and hurried off.

She stopped by her locker to retrieve the things she'd brought then hurried to the bathroom. She knew it would be at least ten or fifteen minutes before Peter could get free, and that was just fine with her, as she needed time to prepare. She thought that this could well be the last time Peter saw the inside of Ridgeton High for quite a while, and she wanted to make it memorable.

When Peter cautiously stuck his head in the door he found Jane standing at the sink with her back to him. Jane immediately turned and pretended to gasp at the sight of him. Peter's gasp, however, was genuine: Jane had wiped off all her make-up and brushed her hair into a semblance of the mousy look it had when they first met in this same spot and she was wearing the same gray jumper and white turtleneck and penny loafers she'd had on that day. She was also wearing her glasses. There

was

something different about the way she was dressed but she was sure Peter wouldn't notice...yet.

Peter stepped into the bathroom and allowed the door to close behind him, a bewildered look on his face. He had gotten rid of his cap and gown and was wearing a white shirt and tie. Before he could react Jane went and stood before him and, trying very hard not to smile, clasped her hands in front of her and began to plead, "Oh, please don't tell anyone you saw me in the coatroom! I don't want to go to jail! Please...I'll—I'll do anything you want." She resisted the urge to flutter her eyelashes at him.

Peter caught on immediately. "Anything?" he asked, with mock-meaningfulness.

Jane pretended not to understand and looked down, nodding. "Yes. Anything."

Peter took her by the chin and raised her head until she was looking at him again. "Will you be my slave? And do exactly as you're told?"

Jane could see that he too was trying not to smile. She pretended to be frightened.

"All...all right."

"Say it."

"I'll be your slave...and do exactly as I'm told."

Now he did allow himself to smile. "Take off your glasses."

She did so and slipped them into her pocket as she had that first day. Then Peter said, "Follow me," and led the way into the stall.

She followed him and closed and latched the door behind her while he sat down on the lid of the toilet. She pressed her back to the door and waited as he looked at her. The memories of their first encounter were rushing back; she felt herself becoming excited and was sure Peter was too.

"All right slave—lean forward and grab the bottom of your skirt." She did so. "Now straighten up."

She pretended shock, and let go of her skirt. "Oh no!" she cried. "What if somebody comes in and—and sees us? They'll think..."

"Think what?"

"They'll think I'm a..." She feigned great distress. "...a little

slut

!"

He got up and stood close to her. "Would you rather go to jail?"

He was trying to be fierce but his gaze was so adoring that it was all Jane could do not to throw her arms around him. Then suddenly he spared her the temptation by seizing her and hugging her tightly to himself. "God, I love you," he murmured.