Like I said, I grew up in a tiny town.
On its own, that was a recipe for boredom. But our little borough was particularly bad thanks to some self-inflicted wounds. It was a de facto dry town; no liquor licenses were given out to
anyone
. Arcade machines and comic book sales were banned. When I told one of my college friends about where I grew up, he said it sounded like 'the real-life town from Footloose' and he wasn't wrong.
The only things to do were go to church (Yes, we were the only Jewish family in town. No, I don't know what the hell my parents were thinking), get your hair done, or rent a movie. Thus, my Blockbuster Video was the hottest place to be. In a town with a population of a little over ten thousand,
we led the entire country
in store earnings per square foot.
Working the front on a Friday night was like standing under a typhoon with nothing between me and destruction except a scanner gun. At the end of the day, the entire system would be broken down -- candy strewn everywhere, shelves almost sideways, returns piling behind the counter till they threatened to avalanche over us. Closing the store often took hours just to make the place look like we hadn't been hosting a rave. Or the apocalypse.
I was so busy -- scanning movies, helping customers, doing returns, fighting for air -- I didn't have time to think about my relationship with Krissy. My mind didn't wander to her because there was never a moment for it to escape.
When the evening was over, I was so exhausted I could barely see. I stumbled out of the store. It was one in the morning. The downtown strip mall was completely quiet; dark except for a few flickering streetlights in the distance.
But to my surprise, standing there in the parking lot and waiting for me by my car, was Krissy herself. The blonde girl looked like a beacon in a storm. Her golden hair seemed to glow with its own, internal luminescence.
She was wearing her usual jeans, but she had on a white t-shirt (Camp for Christ, with a crude sketch of a tent and a crucifix) and a light coat. Apparently, it had started to drizzle while I was inside. Krissy gave me a short, shy wave. My other coworkers filed past her, grunting out tired goodbyes. Fortunately, the only person who would have made a big deal of Krissy, Steve, wasn't working that night.
"Hey!" I called out and raced over to Krissy, embarrassingly happy she was there. "Everything OK?"
Like I said, I wasn't expecting to see Krissy after work, or for the entire weekend. For her to be standing there in a deserted parking lot after midnight, she was either epically horny or truly upset.
Krissy shook her head, then gave me a game smile.
"Want to go for a drive?"
Krissy nodded. I unlocked my car, and we climbed in. I drove a used Saturn, a little cranberry sedan with tan seats and those seatbelts that would try to strangle you when you closed the door.
I fired up the engine and drove off. I switched on the radio and set it to 95.5 (I was more of a K-ROCK guy, but I figured Krissy would prefer PLJ). The rain got heavier, and we watched the water drip down the windshield. There was nowhere to go, really. Nothing to do. Even the town diner closed at 11pm. So, I meandered aimlessly.
Eventually, the storm settled and dried. I turned us down a quiet road that had a park at the end of it. Mostly, it was just a clearing surrounded by a thicket of tall trees. But it was at the end of an empty street, almost forgotten. My high school friends and I had used it a few times to smoke weed. It seemed like as good a place as any.
Krissy and I got out of the car and found a dryish picnic table near the back of the park, by the towering pine trees. I lay back on the table and Krissy joined me. Our shoulders touched as we stared up at the greyish sky.
"My parents got me a job at some dumb Christian camp," Krissy said, talking up to the darkness. She pointed at her own t-shirt. "Weekdays from six to two dealing with a bunch of snotty little kids."
"That doesn't sound too bad," I said. Krissy gave me a withering look.
"It's supposed to be good for my character," she said, "Whatever that means. They're punishing me, I swear."
"I'm sorry," I said.
I have to admit, I was impressed with Krissy's parents' solution. All this time I'd thought there was nothing they could do about my relationship with Krissy and so I'd discounted them. I'd clearly made a massive tactical error. Getting her a job was a masterstroke.
"I'm sorry too," Krissy said.
She kissed my cheek and it occurred to me that the aloof blonde wasn't confiding in me -- she was dumping me. After all, what was our relationship without afternoon make out sessions? I felt my heart sink far harder than I'd expected it to. I didn't know what this was, what we were, but I realized I didn't want it to end.
It's not like I actually liked Krissy. Or enjoyed her company. No more than in the basic biological sense that moving towards mating with a beautiful woman is always enjoyable. I guess some part of me knew that once Krissy was gone, that meant I had to start addressing my actual life. And I didn't have a lot of solutions for that. Wasn't it easier to fool around with this strange, serious girl and pretend that tomorrow would always stay one day away?
"It's not fair!" Krissy slapped her leg. "I always have to be so good, but it's never good enough. My grades. My chores. My 'behavior.' I do whatever they ask with a pretty little smile. It's like they want me to be a nun."
Again, it was so surprising to hear her get frustrated at her family. I won't lie, some part of me started to wonder if I was doing something wrong to Krissy. Breaking her in some way. She'd been a little frustrated when she'd been in Blockbuster that first time, but she'd been happy. Loving and loved. She had a clear path and the people to help support her on it. Now, it seemed that her central relationship was splitting at the seams. I couldn't help but feel responsible. Bad enough that I was already broken, was I ripping this poor girl apart along with me?
"I don't care anymore," Krissy said, "I really don't. They can't watch me every second, especially once I'm back at school in September. I'm a grown woman. I'll do what I want."
"We could still hang out," I said, "For now. If you want. It doesn't have to be serious. Just fun."
"Just fun," Krissy repeated.
"Right," I said, "I mean, if you don't want to upset your parents, I understand."
A little, wicked grin formed on Krissy's face. I'd said the magic words.
"Camp ends early enough," Krissy said, "I could go to your place after."
"Definitely," I said.
"We'll have to figure it out. I'll have to hide where I'm going but..." Krissy's eyes glassed over. I could tell she was thinking of the previous afternoon, in my bedroom. Picturing the peak I'd brought her to. "Yeah. That works."
I rolled to my side and kissed Krissy, tenderly. My fingers at her chin. We made out on the table for a while. It was weirdly electric. Our illicit plan, being outdoors, all of it.
I let my hand drift lower down Krissy's shirt, but she stopped me. The trance was broken. Apparently, that was as far as Krissy was willing to go in public. Instead, we rolled off the table and limped back to my car.
*
So, we started meeting up in secret. I changed my work schedule to maximize my time with Krissy. It wasn't perfect -- opting out of Fridays and Saturdays wasn't an option for me, and Krissy's Sundays were spoken for -- but that gave us four solid afternoons a week to do what we wished.
We didn't always fool around. Sometimes it was safer to go out and do other things. Plus, I guess we felt like we'd committed to some kind of relationship, so we tried to act like one existed. It was awkward, like putting on a performance only for each other, but we did it anyway.
We went to the Short Hills Mall and walked around, holding hands. I tried like crazy to get Krissy into Victoria's Secret, but she wouldn't even stop by the windows, let alone look inside. We got a sundae at the Friendly's instead and shared it like something out of Archie Comics.
I took her to the multiplex off Route 22 and we watched a couple middling movies. We sat in the back and kissed, kind of like being back in Krissy's basement. But unlike then, Krissy had strict boundaries about what she was willing to do, and it stopped at lips and tongue.
We tried playing tennis once. There were courts at a park walking distance from the Blockbuster. Krissy had the whole setup -- the fancy racket, the special shoes, all of it. She brought me stuff to borrow, I'm pretty sure it was her dad's.
At first it was fun. Watching the gorgeous blonde was enough on its own. The way her amazing body filled that all-white tennis dress. The easy flow of her pink legs as she ran across the court. Her arms flexing with every ground stroke.
Then I made the mistake of advancing on net and slapping one past her (I'd taken tennis at summer camp as a kid. I wasn't good, but I carried a couple moves). Krissy stormed right off the court. Eventually she forgave me, but it took a couple days.
Mostly, though, Krissy and I spent the afternoons in my bedroom getting hot and heavy. It was what we were best at. All the awkwardness of our other engagements was overwhelmed by how well we made things work there.
We'd strip down to our underwear and make out till our lips hurt. I'd heft and suckle her breasts. She'd tickle and tease at my chest. Eventually, I'd work my way under Krissy's panties and rub her off. She came so beautifully. Her pretty face distended with illicit pleasure.
Then, we'd break apart.
*
"Rub yourself for me," I said.
Krissy gaped, her face a mix of anger and shock.
"I want to watch," I said.
Once again, some divine inspiration had grabbed hold of me. I don't know where these ideas originated, how the courage came through. But I kept finding myself making these bold demands to Krissy.
It was a Thursday afternoon, and we were back in my bedroom. The house was empty. We were in the middle of our usual session, about at the point where I'd be slipping my fingers into Krissy's underwear. And for some reason, this idea popped into my head. It was out in the world before I could stop it.
