The rain was still coming down. It had started raining that morning, and had not let up all during the day. Now it was steady drizzle, slacking to a mist at times. Enough to keep the streets slick and pedestrians miserable.
But in the bar, the rain was forgotten. Amidst the blaring music, the bright neon signs, and the cigarette haze, all was forgotten. She and I sat drinking at battered wooden table. We were drinking in our usual style. Rounds of pitchers, one for each of us. It was the fourth round and the beer was taking its toll. I wasn’t stumbling drunk, but was getting close.
“What say we get out of here before the rush. Gonna be a bitch of a walk back to your dorm anyway.”
She gave me an odd look. “You coming home with me?”
“No, was going to be nice for once and walk you home.”
“OOOHHH!!! I see. Now you’ll be nice.”
Sarcasm is not a good thing when coming from drunks. Especially when you are also drunk. But I forgave her. After all how many people have a drinking buddy who is a 5’11” blonde who still has the washboard stomach from her high school athlete days? The fact that she was drop dead gorgeous didn’t hurt matters either.
“I’m always nice to you. Don’t’ I let you bitch and moan continuously about Dave, without complaint. Don’t I let you cry on my shoulder whenever he doesn’t call daily?”
She didn’t say much, just stared at her beer.
“Yes, I know. You keep me sane.”
“So don’t say I’m not nice. Now lets go.”
We headed out the back door of the place, and headed up the alley on the side. The rain was still fine drizzle. We crossed the street back onto campus and stumbled the half-mile back to her dorm. By the time we arrived, we were not totally soaked, but by no means dry.
“Well, thanks for the escort. You alright to walk back to your place?”
As she asked this, there came a clap of thunder, a flash of lightning, and we looked out to see the rain suddenly increase. In a minute it was a downpour. I stared out through the dark and contemplated the mile walk back to my dorm, through these lovely conditions.
“Can I come up and wait this out for a bit? Need to clean your hat anyway.”
We entered her dorm, and slipped up the stairwell to the 3rd floor. We tried to be as quiet as possible, knowing the consequences for both of us would be unpleasant if I were caught here.
We slipped in her room and hit the lights. Bekhas room always smelt like a floral shop I thought. Her and her roommate kept several candles around and some sort of potpourri.
“Angie gone for the weekend?”
“Yeah, she headed to Dallas to see Phillip.”
I took off my straw hat and stepped to her bathroom to retrieve a towel. I began cleaning and drying it off, while she checked her messages.
“Damn, he didn’t call.”
“Hey, it’s Friday night, he’s on a base in a partying town, he’s out with his buds. Much like you my dear.’
“I know, just annoys me.”
I could tell that this was more than simple annoyance. Bekha and Dave had started dating almost a year ago and had fallen hard and fast for each other. The in the spring, Dave got tired of college, and joined the Army, needing only 10 hours to finish his degree. Bekha supported his choice, and they had done well with the long distance thing. But I knew it was rough on her. She saw other couples sometimes and the fact that she had no one to hold at night hurt deeply. I had become almost a surrogate boyfriend. Acting as a vent for her anger, listening to her problems, and offering sage, well sort of, wisdom on relationships.
I myself was not in a relationship. I had several female friends who could be considered “fuck-buddies” so I seldom had to worry about sex. If I wanted to get laid, I could easily find someone.
Bekha saw my loose and wild ways and envied them to a point. At the same time, I envied her ability to find someone that truly cared and loved her. It may have been the empty spots in each of our lives that drew us to be such good friends.
I continued working on my hat, and then walked across the room to retrieve Bekha’s. She sat on the foot of her bed, trying to pull off her boots, and obviously bothered by something.
‘Need help with those?”
“No, I got them. They’re wet and being stubborn.”
“Need help with what’s in your head right now?”
She struggled with the boots a moment more, finally pulling them off. I took them from her and dried them a bit, placing them by her closet. She sat there in silence, as I resumed working on the black felt hat she had been wearing. It was less than 2 weeks old and was now drenched. I tried as best I could to dry it off. It would require reshaping and cleaning after drying it was obvious.
“Well your is broke in now I guess. Bad way to do it though.”
She looked up at me, her gloom seeming to deepen. I finished toweling of the hat and sat it in the bathroom, along with the other, on towels to dry. It was obvious Bekha was depressed and I would do my best, as usual to cheer her up and help her cope. But as I stood I the doorway staring, other thoughts appeared. She was a truly beautiful woman. And much of our usual conversation revolved around sex. Both us were self-admitted fiends for oral sex, and Bekha would freely admit that she loved to swallow. Maybe my helping as a friend could include some recreational carnal exercises well. I tried to shove the thoughts down remembering I was a friend with Dave also and that I had already broke up one serious relationship that way this year.
That’s another story.
I walked in the room and sat down on the bed next to her. She stared sadly at me, her wet hair clinging to her face. I brushed it back and put my arm around her, then hugged her close. She seemed to melt into me, pulling close to me. We sat for many long moments, no sound except for the AC and our own breathing.
“What are you thinking?”
“That I don’t’ know If I can do this long distance thing much longer. I sit here every night and wait to here from him, and when he doesn’t call I feel, like I’m wasting my life waiting for him. I can’t keep doing this.”
Her voice started to crack as she finished saying this. Within moments, I could feel the tears dripping of her face onto my shirt, feel the sobs starting to build. I pulled her close and lay back on the bed, holding her to me. She snuggled up closer to em and cried, letting all the pain and anger and frustration come out.
As I lay there, the thoughts in my head started up again. I felt how warm and firm her body was under my arms. How her full breasts were pressed against me. Her perfume filled my mind with its seductive scent. I tried to relax my hold a bit, to let these thoughts go, but she pulled me closer, holding onto me. Her sobs had decreased, but her tears still flowed.
I moved around so I could see her face. I brushed the hair back from her forehead, and wiped some of the tears of her cheeks. She looked at me and tried to smile a little, but only broke down again. I hugged her close and let her cry, let her release the feelings.
After a few more minutes she looked up at me and started trying to compose herself. I stroked her hair and just tried to look sympathetic and open to listen. She relaxed her hold on me a bit, and we lay there, her staring off into space, obviously thinking hard.
“Are you okay, Bek?”
She looked at me and smiled a little smile.
‘I think so. Thank you for being here.”
‘Is my job, supposed to watch out for you.”
“I know, but I ask too much of you.”
‘Ask all you want. You’ll make more money than me one day and you can pay me back then.”
She laughed at this and it seemed to lighten her mood. She rolled away from me and stretched. I couldn’t help but stare at her, how her shirt pulled tight across her breasts and how every inch of her seemed to exude sex. She noticed my stare and smiled.