Growing up, there were friends that you saw only in the summer, and then when school started you didn't see them, because you were involved with school buddies. Those summers seemed timeless and left plenty of room to wonder and dream of life beyond childhood. As I got older, I was sad that summer friends became faces, people, times that were gone. High school ties now were formed, and those ties would later serve a love hate relationship. But youthful summer moments would always hold a special place.
I had a couple of close friends in the neighborhood, but one friend in particular, J.P., was close to my age and had an adventurous streak that I was drawn to. We usually ended up getting in trouble. Many times we had to flee certain situations, not knowing exactly why we were running, but knowing that surely the blame would always turn to J.P. His house, although on a corner, was always the center of activity. His parents came home from work at regular hours, but the time in between seemed plentiful enough to get stuff done, or to get nothing done. He had three sisters, and each one looked different than the other. One would never be able to tell these girls were sisters. Patty, the oldest, was short and solidly built. Her hair was black. She should have been a gymnast. Her dark eyes always knew what we were up to. She seemed to know exactly what our next moves were. Julia, the middle girl, was tall and slender and had very sharp curves. Her legs were always tanned and perfectly smooth. She had blonde hair. When she looked at you with her green eyes, it seemed she was challenging you to impress her. I don't think I ever did impress her. Looking back on her, I think she was bored with the people that filler her world at that time. Callie was the other sister. She seemed to be a mixture of the other two, but yet totally different. She was about 5'5" tall, and had soft curves. Her breasts were very friendly when I was around them. I liked seeing them in different outfits. Some showed them larger and firmer than others, and some made them seem more secretive. The day I finally saw them in a bathing suit, I realized she was very soft indeed and her boobs, which I thought were large, actually seemed smaller and somewhat pendulous. I was always entranced by her slow lazy ways. She did everything slowly, and was an expert at lounging around. She seemed more sensitive than the other two. She was three years older than me.
Freshman year of high school was the first summer I spent mostly outside of the neighborhood. I actually avoided going by J.P.'S corner house, knowing that I had to let life change for me, that summer had to end sometime. The following year got easier and by senior year I felt like a stranger in the neighborhood. J.P. was doing his own thing also, but he seemed to still like staying close to home. The two oldest sisters, Patty and Julia, had move out and Callie was away at college.
I went away to college too. Things seemed strange there. People seemed to have unheard of agendas, and they seemed to gather energy from some unseen place. I thought back on all the people I knew, to try and figure them out, and undoubtedly I found comfort in J.P. and his sisters. His three sisters, from the same home, yet so different, helped me to accept my surroundings. The fact that I never figured out J.P'S motivations also helped. I was able to relax and let these new experiences flow more naturally.
On winter break, I wanted to, in some way, thank J.P. for helping me through a very difficult time. I stopped by his house. Things seemed so different. The furniture I remembered had been replaced. Walls were painted in updated colors. The father had divorced the mother and had moved out west. J.P. was gong to a local college. He did not seem moved by my visit. We shook hands, and although I was genuinely happy to see him, he seemed a bit distant. He talked about how he was now playing guitar in a garage band and was not thinking much of school. He invited me to a party that night. An old friend of his from the neighborhood was going into the army and his friends and family were sending him off. Although, not really in the mood for a party, I told him I would be there. As I was leaving, I saw Callie at the other end of the house. She seemed occupied with something. She was wearing the sexiest boots I could have imagined. Knee high, black leather boots. Her skirt met the boots. I wanted to linger on them, on her. I wanted to stop, to go back in and say hello to her, but the tone of my reunion with J.P. signaled it was time to leave. I felt J.P. unknowingly swept me out of his house before I could speak with Callie.
I went home, and tried to think if I had ever been attracted to anyone wearing knee high boots before. I thought of a teacher at school who had a dominant personality that was accentuated by her boots. I thought of a time in high school when I sat next to a girl with long legs who seemed to have every type of footwear. Her legs were particularly sexy sheathed in leather. I wondered if, at nineteen years of age, I was developing some sort of fetish.
_____
I drifted into the party and was greeted with a few sincere hellos and with a few blank stares. I immediately focused on J.P. He was holding a bottle of beer and was keeping pace with the music playing.
"You made it." He said. "I figured, well... it's still early. Might get exciting later. Sometimes it's a good idea to leave these parties midstream and then come back later when every one is wasted. Easy pickings with the girls."
I nodded my head in agreement. "Sounds ... a good idea."
Ever since I left his house, I had been thinking about Callie. She was 22 now and very much a woman. I could not get the image of those boots out of my head. They made her seem so sure of herself.
"Is Callie coming?" I asked.
"No." He said. "She outgrew the neighborhood and everyone in it a long time ago. She's having some issues with her boyfriend. She wasn't even coming down for break."
A girl dressed in silly colors came up to us and started to blow a whistle. She looked semi drunk and in need of attention. We just ignored her. The guest of honor was seated on a leather sofa, surrounded by a couple of girls, and drinking his share very quickly. He seemed bored with them and with the party. I only remember having a few conversations with him. I remembered that he had been a good athlete.
J.P. introduced me to a member of his band: A very anxious looking guy that had to be in his mid-twenties. He talked about the lack of drugs at the party. He wanted to leave this party for another one across town. We lingered a few minutes. I looked at my cell phone, to see if it held a reason to leave. I never really grasped the party scene very much, and I think that J.P. sensed that. I found this homecoming to be tiresome but could not pull myself away. There was nothing that I was missing, nothing to force me to leave. We lingered another hour or so, slowly drinking beer and inhaling any strange smells that drifted up from the basement.
"Let's get out for a while." He said. You can come back with me later if you want.
"Sure." I agreed.
"This party needs to develop more. Needs a few more people stumbling across the room. Let's get out of here." He motioned for the door.
We both had walked there. As we strolled through the old neighborhood, it felt strange. We both were different persons since last walking our city streets together. We stopped by a hamburger restaurant that I had been craving for a long time. The counter, and the rest of the place, was unchanged. The fixtures and pictures on the walls were the same. I was starting to drift from the night, feeling that saying goodbye after our meal would be the only thing left to do.
As I was about to wish him well, he invited me to his house. He said his mother was not home, and that his sister, Callie, was probably on the phone trying to make her boyfriend see things her way. We would have the place to ourselves. There was liquor and there was even some weed. I was about to decline his offer, when the thought of seeing Callie again, gave my insides a weird charge.
"That's cool. I don't have anything better to do." I said.
"That's good to hear." He laughed.
_____
We walked into his house. I sat down and watched him arrange some drinks. I was definitely feeling nostalgic this night. I have always tried to move forward, and sometimes have left certain people or feelings behind. I was starting to convince myself that I needed to reconnect with J.P., and that we had unresolved issues to address. As I tried to look mature, sipping on some bourbon, in walked Callie. She was bundled up from a not so cold night. She gave me a very knowing look, tinged with some anger. I felt that my youthful betrayal of the corner house needed some explaining, some redemption.
I stood to hug her. She let me hug her, but did not move her arms or return the affection.
"Callie... I don't know what to say." I said.
