Seeing Happiness

Author's Note:

Hi, everyone! This is Part 2 of 4, with parts 3 and 4 to follow over the next week or so. Please consider following so you'll be informed of the upcoming releases. Thanks!

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Part 2: Seeking Happiness and the Freshman Flirt

The RA wasn't in the lobby so I slipped unescorted down the hall to Mandy's door and knocked. A cute blonde-headed girl with a ponytail appeared at the door after the second knock, holding it open so she could look out but I couldn't look in.

"Sorry, I should have called. Can I speak with Mandy?" I asked, figuring she was changing clothes behind the door.

"Who?"

I glanced at the room number, confirming I was in the right spot, before I replied, "Mandy Wofford? This is her room."

"Not any more," the girl said. "I just transferred in and am still unpacking." She opened the door to let me see boxes and bags scattered around the room, with some of the drawers open.

"But Mandy lives here," I said, even as I realized she didn't anymore.

"I got a call from Housing a few days ago that a single had come available and I grabbed it. Sorry, I don't know who lived here before. It was empty when I got here this afternoon; only thing I found was the student directory lying on the bookshelf. I even still have some stuff in my car."

I slumped against the door jamb, seeing that Mandy was gone without a trace. I'd go to the Housing office on Monday and get her address from them.

"I'm Barry. Mandy and I were friends and I tutored her in Chemistry. I wanted to see how she did on the final. If she's gone...well, maybe I'm not a very good tutor." I felt awful and didn't know what to do, but seeing her standing there waiting, I realized I wasn't helping her either. "Ah, need some help bringing the rest of your things in?"

"Sure, thanks. I'm Chloe." We shook hands rather formally.

We stopped by our usual study lounge on the way out and I introduced Chloe to Liz, Connor, and Randy, the only ones there at the time. Randy offered to help us carry the rest of Chloe's things in and Chloe soon took the last available seat in our lounge. A little over four years later, Sonny, Rosalie, Liz, and I were in Randy and Chloe's wedding.

***

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pierce, but when a student withdraws from the university, it revokes our right to give out the student's mailing address," said the lady at the desk in the Housing Office.

"But it's important that I reach her," I replied. "A telephone number, her mailing address, anything. Say, I'll give you the letter and let you mail it to her without me even seeing her address if that would help."

"We can't do that, sir," she replied, glancing at a man who walked up and stopped by the desk. "I'm really sorry, Mr. Pierce. Have you checked the student directory?"

"Yeah, but she didn't include her info in it."

"Oh. Sir, when a student opts out of that, they opt out of all outside student communications anyway. Even if she was still enrolled but on leave of absence, a semester afield at another university, or a semester abroad, we still couldn't give it to you. I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do."

"Listen, this is really important. Is there someone, like maybe the dean of housing, that I can talk to about it?"

Her mouth fell open a bit before she flipped an open palm toward the man standing there.

"I'm Associate Dean Halsey," he said. "Mrs. Sanburn is correct. Our hands are tied, Mr. Pierce. We can't violate university policy on this without potentially violating the withdrawn student's privacy. If we did, we'd be opening up the university to a potential lawsuit. That's not going to happen."

"Thanks, Dean Halsey, Mrs. Sanburn," I said before walking out.

***

Evie never wrote me back and the spring semester passed with boring slowness. Dennis and Liz broke up around Valentine's Day, and Dennis ended up leaving our group shortly thereafter.

Sometime after spring break, I was bored and she looked bored, too, so I asked Liz to go get a cola with me at the grill on a boring Friday night. We ended up talking for nearly two hours. We had some philosophical differences but we had become pretty good friends over the course of the year, so we enjoyed our discussion and debate points before she surprised me with a sweet kiss on my cheek and caress of my face when I walked her to her door. Talk about a surprise!

We went out for tacos the next weekend, and again had a good talk and a rather heated debate. I think she was mad at me over a particular point I'd won when I walked her back to her dorm. We stood face to face, almost touching, looking at each other.

"Barry, if you'll shut the fuck up about it, you can kiss me."

I looked at her with a smirk. "Uh uh. If

you

shut the fuck up about it,

you

can kiss

me

."

She glared at me for a number of seconds before breaking into a laugh and we pulled each other tight. I don't know how long our kiss lasted, but when it was done, I knew Liz could have taught Evie a few things about kissing, and Evie was actually quite good at it.

On Sunday night, neither of us mentioned our excursion of the night before to any of our friends, but as the evening progressed, our eyes met on more than one occasion.

"Barry, I need to talk to you for a minute," said Liz. "Can we step out?"

Rosalie's eyes darted between us, back and forth and back again, and her hand covered her mouth as I stood up to go see what Liz wanted. Chloe and the guys didn't even look up.

Once we were out in the hall, I whispered, "Liz, what is it? If it's about last night--"

"Shh. Come with me."

Like a prisoner going to the gallows, I followed her, wondering if she was still pissed about the night before or if she'd come up with some new, brilliant point to counter my argument. Planning a career in law, Liz didn't like to lose, hated it even, so I knew she had to have been stewing about it for the past 24 hours or so. I'd exhausted all of my ammo on it, so I hoped whatever she'd come up with was full of holes so I could defeat it with my earlier arguments.

When we reached her room, she unlocked the door, pulled me inside, and then trapped me against the door even as she was locking it behind us. She started kissing me, her hands running over my chest, pulling my sweater up and off, and then undoing my belt. Figuring this was better than arguing, I slid my hands under her sweater and unhooked her bra. A second later, her sweater came off and her bra went flying. I stumbled to the bed with my pants still around my ankles, and she pushed me down on the bed and was atop me like a wildcat. We kissed for a while as I gently squeezed her titties and she stroked me.

"Liz, are you sure--"

"Shhh! Just shut up, Barry."

Liz's jeans and panties came down somehow and she pulled a condom from her bedside drawer. I barely got it in place before she was back on top, feeling so soft and comfortable as she lowered herself on me. Down, down, down, she went until there was no more down to go, and then she ground against me, back and forth, squeezing me for all she was worth as if to exert her power over me. It was great power and it felt awesome, particularly since it had been so long since I'd had sex, but I resisted the urge to let go, and held on until her movements slowed.

When she tired, I started thrusting up into her, slow at first and then faster, harder, pounding against her. We rolled over a moment later, with Liz pulling her legs high and wide to give me lots of room and keeping her opening gaping invitingly. Seeing her spread open like that, I couldn't resist, kissing her pussy before giving little kisses all around, exciting her swollen labia, and dipping my tongue into her depths before settling on her clit. I traced around it a few times before I started flicking it, light but fast. Liz was arching her back and making cute fists as she moaned before eventually slumping and pulling me up.

"Give me a few seconds," she breathed, wiping stray strands of her blonde hair out of her face, "and then get in there and pound the fucking shit out of my pussy. Fuck me and make me come again, damn you!"

The way we tended to argue, I almost told her she was mixing up her orifices, but needing my release far more than I needed a debate and wanting to give her what she wanted, too, I entered her. Moments later, we were fucking like bunnies, with my hard rod slamming into her tight hole, our bodies crashing together.

"Keep going, Barry! Harder!" she cried.

I did as she said though I was getting awfully close to coming, but then I heard a wolf-whistle outside, and a girl's voice call, "Go, Liz! Yeow!"

"Ignore those bitches," she gritted at me, "and keep UNHHH!"

She seemed to collapse then as she came for a second time, and it only took me a few more thrusts before I joined her, jetting into the condom. I settled down on her and held her, kissing her neck and cheek, but when I tried to kiss her lips again, she turned away. I slipped to the side, and she nestled against me, allowing me to hold her.

"Barry, thank you. I'm not sure which of us needed that the most, but I'm so glad it was good for both of us."

"Ditto," I said, my breath starting to return to normal.

"Barry, you're a great friend, and I like you a lot, but please, don't get the wrong idea about this."

"What do you mean?"

"This was just for fun, to see what it would be like, since we've both been through a dry spell. Nobody is to know about this, and it won't happen again, okay? It's just sex and a release, understood? We could never be together long term. We're too different and we'd argue--no, not argue, debate--all the time, so it wouldn't be healthy or very long-lasting. Got it?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I agreed, knowing that we'd never be happy together if we were to marry.

Rosalie was the only one who noticed us when we returned to our studies a few minutes later. She had a prim little smile she didn't even bother hiding.

***

As good as our stated intentions of it never happening again, it happened again the following weekend and two more weekends as the semester drew to a close. Each time, we would kiss beforehand, but Liz would shy away at the end, as if embarrassed that we'd done it again. There were no tearful goodbyes when we left for the summer, for we knew we weren't a real couple and never would be.

In fact, we each dated others that summer and throughout the rest of our college years, but when we were both single and had a 'dry spell' as Liz called it, we would get together from time to time to soothe our yearning, at least for a little while. We never told our friends of our dalliances, but Rosalie's eyes and frequent smile told me she knew.

After college, I drifted along, always believing Evie was the one who got away. I got my MBA and then moved periodically from job to job and city to city, following the opportunities and the money. Being single, highly skilled, and willing to relocate for big bucks, I always had an excellent salary and saved a significant amount of it. In truth, I was well off and having fun but living a fairly modest lifestyle, always saving for a future I hoped would someday come.

I dated a lot, had some girlfriends, and enjoyed a good sex life with the girlfriends and a number of other ladies over the years. Liz and I hooked up at Sonny and Rosalie's wedding soon after college, and then again at Randy and Chloe's about a year later. Liz met Mr. Right soon after that, so I didn't see her again for about five years until after Rosalie called and told me that Liz and her fiance had broken things off almost a year before.

"Call her, Barry. She needs a...a shoulder to cry on. Your shoulder. Please?"

We reconnected by phone a couple of nights later, and then I met Liz in Chicago two weekends after that. Sure enough, she actually cried on my shoulder for a bit, and then with that out of the way, we fought and fucked the rest of the weekend. I wish I could say we made love, but that wasn't Liz and wasn't me with her. It was hot, steamy, and as hard as we could. After the first time, we dispensed with the condoms and enjoyed the sensations since Liz was on birth control and since we'd delayed an extra week to be tested to be sure.

After that, Liz and I would get together from time to time for a pleasant vacation--Fort Lauderdale, NYC, Hawaii, Paris, Toronto, and London, among others--with lots of hot, sweaty sex until she finally met the real Mr. Right. I had no luck finding the right woman for me, though, so thirty-five and forty came and went, with me realizing more with each passing year that I was lonely and probably always would be.

Then, one night, when I was 42, a couple of years after I moved to Signal Mountain, Tennessee, to run the branch office of a national firm in Chattanooga, my cell phone rang.

***

I was out walking Luke, my dog, when it rang.

"Barry, it's Mom."

"Hi, Mom, how are you?"

"Good, son, but I have some bad news for you."

I hate when she does that, my blood pressure spiking as all the bad things that could happen flood through my mind. My dad had passed a couple of years before, so it wasn't that. She was in the hospital? A broken hip? Cancer?

"Remember Charlie Hestridge? Evie Hestridge's dad? He died a couple of days ago. The funeral is day after tomorrow if you want to come."

Like steam through an exhaust, my blood pressure slowly bled off, coming back down to a normal range.

"Mom, I didn't even know Mr. Hestridge was still alive. Why should I go to the funeral? It's been, what, twenty-something years since I saw him."

"Barry, Evie called to let me know and asked for me to tell you. I tried to give her your number but she said no and asked me to tell you."

My blood pressure was back up, higher than before, but now it wasn't just my blood pressure; my heart was pounding, too.

"What the hell, Mom? Evie, reaching out to me in her moment of need, after all those years and all those potential opportunities that she'd wasted. Where the hell was she for me when Dad died? Well, fuck her and fuck the high horse she came riding in on!"

"Barry Dylan Pierce! You watch your language, young man!"

"Sorry, Mom," I said sheepishly. "I...I just can't believe she'd do that."

"Her mom died three years ago, Barry, so she doesn't have anyone left in town now. Maybe she just needs a friendly face."

"I don't know, Mom. Asking me to put on a friendly face for her is asking a hell-uva lot."

"I know, Son, but you need to do it, for old times sake, okay?"

I'd finally convinced Mom and Dad after several calls and a letter that I never cheated on Evie, and we'd reconciled, but they'd never been able to convince the Hestridges. Dad and Mr. Hestridge broke off their friendship for a while before eventually returning to speaking terms, but Mom had told me years before that she and Mrs. Hestridge had never been friends again.

I sighed, a long, frustrated sound that felt as if it should have gone on for much longer than the amount of breath I had in my lungs. "Okay, Mom. Doing this for you, not for her. I'll be in late tomorrow afternoon, okay?"

***

I had trouble finishing up at the office until later in the afternoon than planned and there was an accident on 24-West before the 59 split and delays on 72 so I arrived in town the next evening too late for the visitation. I spent some time with Mom, instead, and helped her with some things on the To Do list she'd always kept since Dad died. Anything that was in the realm of hardware, tools, or ladders fell to me.

There was a visitation period before the funeral the next morning, so I was there early and went through the line. There was Evie, twenty-something years older and about twenty pounds heavier, but she looked great; she hadn't attended any of our high school reunions, so this was the first time I'd seen her since that semester break so long ago. My heart raced as I looked at her, thinking of what our life might have been like if....

Evie's husband was an everyday sort-of-guy similar to me, about 5'-9 or 5-10, a decent-looking fellow but, much like me, not someone who'd be likely to be voted Most Handsome in a yearbook contest. At least I still hadn't put on much weight and still had all of my hair.

The pretty young lady standing next to them, probably 15 or 16, reminded me of Evie back in our day, and the boys, probably 13 or 14 and maybe 11 or 12, looked like they'd rather be out of their black suits and running around somewhere else, far away.

Mom had come up the evening before, well before my arrival, so I went through the line on my own. She'd told me Evie's family now lived in Florida.

"Barry! You came! Thank you!" said Evie. "It's so good to see you! Barry, this is my husband, Kevin. Kevin, Barry Pierce, my very best friend from high school."

I spoke with Kevin for a moment, and then he and Evie introduced me to their children. Evie took my arm and led me forward for a moment then. "Barry, we can't talk now because people are coming through the line and the service starts soon, but would you and your mom like to come out to the house after the interment? We have lots of food so family, what there is, and a few friends will be there."

"Evie, that wouldn't feel right."

"Barry, please? I'd like to talk to you there. Please?"

Maybe it was my Mom's voice in my head telling me it was the right thing to do, or maybe it was the tear that slipped down her cheek, but I nodded in agreement to try to prevent more. She gave me a big hug before returning to her husband's side.

I sat with Mom through the funeral and the burial, and she rode with me out to the Hestridge house afterward for the little gathering. I spoke with a few old classmates and a few people I knew from years before, and some of Evie's more distant relatives. There were others I didn't know, and then there was Evie, constantly swarmed by a steady stream of the mix. I stood off to the side with a little plate in my hand, nibbling at the finger sandwiches and such that seem to be so ubiquitous at such gatherings, even though I wasn't really hungry. It wasn't long before I ditched it, mostly uneaten, and used a cup in hand to avoid the invitations to get more.

Evie's eyes eventually caught mine and she nodded toward the door. I gave a practically imperceptible nod in reply and went that way. She joined me a couple of minutes later on the swing on the front porch, where we'd practiced our kissing on more than one occasion back in our high school days. I wasn't sure but it looked like the same swing.

She sat down next to me and leaned in, leading me to put my arm around her when her head rested against my chest. We sat, barely rocking for a little bit, before I said, "Evie, I'm sorry, sweetheart, but Kevin's going to be missing you soon. If we're going to talk..."

"No, I told him and he's okay with it. It's...it's me that's not," she sighed. "Barry, I'm so sorry. I thought I was ready, but it's too much and I can't do this today. It's just too much, and I'm too upset. But I really do need to talk to you. Can I call you in a few weeks when things calm down a bit?"

She was looking up at me with those same eyes that I'd once not been able to deny anything. Now, I realized, it was still hard; that magical power, or whatever it was, was still in them. That and the tears. The drops started streaming down her cheeks then, and I tried to gently wipe them away to no avail. I gave in, hoping that would do it. "Sure, Evie. Can I ask what it's about?"

"Us."

Now, I shook my head. "No, Evie, there is no us. You have a great family and you look happy--present circumstances aside, of course--and more important than that, to me anyway, is that I'm not a cheater and never have been, as much as you--