Author's note and acknowledgements
This story has sat on my hard drive for four years now.
I wrote it, all twenty chapters and 95,000 words of it in eight days of a frenzied, near trance-like state, sitting on my couch with my wife's laptop. She would occasionally have to remind me to eat.
When the dust settled, and I looked up, I realized a couple of things: one, I had just written a fucking novel in a week, whoa. Two, it seemed to be pretty damn good, double whoa. And three, what the hell was I going to do with it?
I tried editing it, I even enlisted the help of a Lit-Editor, who was invaluable for early editing, and confirming it was in fact, pretty good, or readable at least. I spent several months then, editing, unashamedly forcing it on writer friends to read, regular friends to read, and total strangers on writer boards. Everyone had different opinions of course, as people do, but all of them seemed to think it was pretty good, and I should probably try to do something with it.
So I spent another year trying to sell it.
Well nothing happened.
And I can't blame them, agents and publishers. It's kind of a niche story, hard to market. It's got too much sex for a coming age story, too much teenage drama for adult fiction, and not a single word about vampires or bondage to make it work as erotic fiction.
So it's sat on my hard drive for four years. I'll occasionally open it up, tinker with a line, or try to figure out how to re-work it into something more marketable. I always end up wasting a weekend trying to figure out how to change it, without losing the essence of the thing which I, and several others, feel is, "pretty good."
So fuck it. Here you go Literotica. I just want people to read it. I want people to get to know Jack the way I did. Writing his life made me feel like I was a part of it. He's a pretty good guy, I wish I knew him in real life.
So NEXT, some disclaimers.
This is a coming of age story. Which means first it starts out when the characters are too young to have sex (on literotica.) So there's no sex for a couple chapters. I hope that's okay. Second, this is a novel length story, including the prologue and epilogue, there are twenty-one chapters in all. Some are longer than others, and there is not a sex scene in every one. (Though some have more than one.) More importantly, sex is a thing that happens, it's not written to be titillating, but rather just as events in Jack's life.
So there you go. It's a story with sex in it, not a story about sex. I think it's pretty good anyway.
If you have not read the first chapter, please click on my profile and pick the story up at the beginning, its better that way, trust me.
*****
As it turned out, it was my mother that changed the game, three weeks later.
I stared at the check. It was a lot of money.
"Mom, I can't accept this," I said, not looking up at her.
We were out for lunch, just the two of us. No Stan. That was nice.
I'd started the job hunt and gotten a few nibbles already. Not teaching jobs, but jobs nonetheless. I was probably going to get the tech writing job in Orange County. Abby's dad had put in a good word for me at a place he'd represented and still had friends at. It felt a little bit like nepotism to me, but the money was good and I needed a job. Abby told me to shut up and take it. I was just waiting on the call back. It was really only a formality at this point.
"Oh yes you can. You used all of your savings for your trip," she said.
I started to hand her the check back, "Yeah, and that was my choice." I said firmly.
She shook her head and didn't take the check, "and it was the right choice. Honestly Jack, you work harder at things than anyone I've ever met. You needed a break. Now..." she said with one of her little mom-smirks, "I need you out of my house."
I rolled my eyes, "If this is because of Stan, I'll just go stay with Abby at the beach house."
To be honest I'd been staying there more often than not the last week. It was way better waking up smelling Abby than Stan's butt fumes. There were other reasons of course. But I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a factor.
My mother sipped her coffee, "Well you haven't yet, and I'm not sure you aren't making the right choice. You have to trust your instinct on these things. I was a bit surprised when you two didn't move in together right away. So I assume you're delaying for other reasons..." she said. I started to speak up in my defense, "And I'm sure they are good reasons. Your reasons. I trust your judgment - better than anyone's, Jack. This way, you don't have to make a choice you don't want too just to escape Stan and I."
I frowned, "Mom, Stan isn't..."
"Your father," she said flatly.
I admit. It left me speechless. I stared at my coffee with my mouth hanging open stupidly.
"Well, he isn't. I know that. Far better than you I might add. But I enjoy spending time with him. And I'm ready to do it without you underfoot," she smirked at me with a little twinkling of her eyes.
I shuddered. Do
not
contemplate that Jack - don't even think about what that means. Fuck. I thought about what it meant. Dammit.
"Okay then," I said and finished the rest of my coffee in a slug.
"You don't need a big place and I'm not Abby's parent's so I don't have a beach house for you. But that should give you a couple of months to get going on your own. I know you'll be fine," she said.
I flicked the check with my hand. She was right. This was the best option.
"Thanks mom, you're pretty damn smart," I said.
She smirked at me, "You didn't get it
all
from your father," she replied smugly.
I grinned at her and we enjoyed the rest of our lunch.
#
I found a place pretty quickly. It was exactly half way between the beach house and downtown LA. It was probably a little more expensive than I could afford, but it meant only a forty-five minute drive to Abby and where I would most likely be looking for work if the tech writer job didn't pan out. But it did, so my commute was a little rough. I grew up in California, though. I feared no traffic. It was a little one bedroom apartment on the third floor of a large multiplex. I had loud neighbors, coin operated laundry, and I had no intention of using the place's tiny pool that probably a thousand people shared. But it was mine.
I had my own place.
Abby and Beth, and Todd and Kimmy helped me get moved in. I didn't need a lot of furniture, but Todd and Kimmy gave me their old couch as a housewarming gift. It wasn't new, but they'd just bought a new living room set, so they needed to get rid of it anyway. I was grateful, even if it did have the faintest strange odor I couldn't identify.
I bought a small kitchen set at Wall-mart, and Beth got me some dishes and pots and pans. Abby bought me a television. I think she had to out do everyone else and I felt a little weird taking such an expensive gift. She told me she'd work it out of me later. Beth blushed. So did I.
Yeah, they all knew Abby and I were together. It wasn't a secret, even though there'd been no formal announcement. I guess news travels through osmosis in small circles.
Kimmy was starting to get very pregnant, and Abby and Beth fussed over her like hens. Strangely, I didn't have a hard time with it like I thought I would. Kimmy glowed. I never noticed expectant mothers glowed. But Kimmy could have lit up LA. It made her look beautiful in a way she never had before. I wasn't wistful when I thought about it either, just happy for her. I guess time heals and all that.
