This story has a long build up. If you want to jump to the hot sexy part, you can skip down to the second ***** The sexy stuff comes pretty quickly after that.
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This all happened long ago, in 1991, the summer after my senior year in high school. Visual art has always been my passion, so when my parents insisted I do something productive with my time, I enrolled in a summer art school class. Our teacher was Terry, a very handsome man, sophisticated and urbane.
Terry spoke to me as he would to an adult and I felt special. Being only 18 and rather inexperienced, I fell for his ruse to get me into the alley next to the art school by myself. Suddenly I found myself being pushed into a corner formed by the neighboring building and the fence. He set upon me, backing me into this corner, groping me while I fought his onslaught. I barely came up to his chin and the contest was decidedly in Terry's favor.
Then I heard someone rattling down the rear stairs from the balcony above. A guy dressed in black jeans and a black leather vest burst through the wooden gate. He had seen us. He took in everything: Terry's hands on me, my struggle to escape.
"What the fuck are you doing to her?" he demanded of Terry. My preserver looked like he belonged at a Metallica concert.
Terry withdrew quickly. I was now crying.
"Go upstairs," the young man directed to me over his shoulder, still facing Terry.
I obeyed. From the top of the stairs I saw Terry back up, away from my guardian, then hustle back into the art school. He stood there with folded arms for a few moments as if waiting to see if Terry would re-emerge.
That was how I met Cody.
Once we were in Cody's apartment, he asked "Are you OK?"
Cody's face remained glowering from his encounter with Terry. As glad as I was to get away from Terry, my rescuer was a bit alarming. My sheltered existence had never brought me close to anyone like him. I'd barely seen anything outside my private schools and the country club. Cody was dark and raw, undisguised.
"Yes, I think I'm OK," I replied, trying to take inventory. It was hard to focus under Cody's intense gaze. The ordinary bun I put my dark hair up in was a little worse for wear, my clothes were disheveled, and Terry had grabbed my arm pretty hard. It would leave a bruise on my pale skin. That seemed to be it.
Cody relaxed a little and removed his hand from my shoulder. He handed me the water he'd brought. After taking a few sips, I noticed a greasy thumb print and quickly put it down. I needed to go anyway, it was past 4. I thanked my champion and departed.
Once home, I wondered why I had hurried. My mother was out shopping with one of her country club friends. I was alone with my thoughts about my afternoon. My father would go down there and threaten Terry with a lawsuit. He might actually do it, bring a lawsuit, or worse, call the police.
And after assuring herself I was not truly hurt, my mother would probably find some way to blame me. She never liked the idea of me attending art school. She wanted me to practice tennis with the pro at the Club. Anything not directly associated with the Club was distasteful, seedy, dangerous, outre, below our station, something. I had been so happy to get away from the Club, out from under her eagle eye.
I didn't want to go through all the scenes that would be involved if I reported Terry's assault. I had no idea what I'd do with my time, but the idea of being free appealed to me. I chose to keep my Terry experience to myself.
My immediate plans for the very next day were decided for me. I'd left my wallet at Cody's apartment. I had no number to call, so all I could do was appear on his doorstep.
No one answered the door when I knocked. I settled myself on an old wicker chair on the balcony to wait. I got out my sketch pad and doodled until I noticed the Japanese tulip tree in bloom, in the courtyard.
I was absorbed in my rendition of the tree when Cody came home. He invited me in and offered me a Pepsi while he looked for my wallet. He eventually had to move the sofa. How it had gotten so far back there, I couldn't imagine. When he returned it to me, he noticed my sketch.
"What's that?" he asked, standing behind me and looking over my shoulder. I had not gotten farther than the trunk and a few branches.
"The tulip tree outside." A thought crossed my mind... No, that would be too strange. Asking a complete stranger to sit on their balcony to draw a tree? I'd never be able to complete it from memory though. I boldly asked the favor.
"Sure, you can come up here any time." If I had known him better, I would have been able to tell how pleased he was. "Doesn't matter if we're away, you're welcome to hang out."
When I came the next day, at the time I normally would have been at art school, I found someone had covered the chair with a blanket and provided a cushion. I knocked but no one answered.
Away from the busy avenue beyond the alley, the courtyard was quiet, filled with bird song. The wild garden was lush. Honey suckle bloomed on one fence, adding a sweet smell. I watched a squirrel raid a bird feeder hanging from a dogwood. I realized, after a while, I had not continued my sketch and put myself to work.
A problem occurred to me, rather urgently, when I'd been there a couple of hours. I had no access to a bathroom. Just as I was determining I needed to find a public restroom, Cody came home.
Embarrassed, I told him of my need. I was ushered in and shown the bathroom. It was cleaner than I had expected, from my experience with the dirty glass and dust bunnies under the couch. I was offered a drink again and as I was truly thirsty, I accepted.
"That art school guy give you more trouble?" Cody wanted to know, looking a bit grim. I assured him Terry had not even noticed me.
"If he bothers you, let me know." I doubted anyone would interfere with Cody. Terry certainly wouldn't.
I hadn't finished my sketch and asked to return the following day. Cody and his roommates Neil and Michael were home the next day, listening to music while I sketched away.
They were listening to heavy metal, not the kind of music I listened to, or my friends listened to. The more I heard, the more appealing it became. The lyrics seemed a bit silly sometimes, but the hard, intense guitars held my attention.
An hour or so later, I was offered a drink again. I politely asked about the music and got a lot more than I expected. Neil and Michael got into an argument about something to do with Blue Oyster something. Neil appealed to me as if I would actually know or have an opinion.
He pulled out a record and put it on the turntable, selected a spot and lowered the needle. It was beautiful, a guitar rippling and haunting vocals. It was unlike the other stuff they listened to, until about the middle, when suddenly the guitars came on strong.
Neil pointed to my rapt expression and triumphantly said "There, even she agrees!" Michael looked skeptical. Cody refused to comment. Neil seemed to think that ended the discussion, but Michael pursued his argument.
I found Cody looking at me. He shared an amused look with me, watching Neil and Michael debate. Suddenly I realized it was time for me to go. My sketch was still unfinished. It took me one more day to finish the tulip tree.
But I didn't want to abandon my afternoons there and started a new sketch, of the honeysuckle. Next, one of the bird feeder. By then I was an accepted member of the group. I didn't need my sketch book as an excuse any more.
I began a double life. Weekdays, I was a fixture at the bachelor pad. Weekends, I was dragged by my parents to all sorts of boring social functions at the country club. My parents were under the impression that I was still attending art school weekdays and frequently spending evenings with various girlfriends. I was freer than I had ever been in my life. It felt good.
*****
There was great excitement a few weeks later. Judas Priest and Alice Cooper were coming to town. We all despaired of going, as it was sold out, until Neil won a pair of tickets from a radio contest. We drew lots to decide which of the three of us would accompany Neil. Michael was the lucky one.
The day of the concert, Cody was off work from his job at the heavy metal/punk rock record store and I was hanging out as usual. It was sweltering.
I was in shorts and a short tank top, trying to stay cool with as little clothing as possible. I hadn't even bothered with a bra. My dark chestnut hair was done up in a messy bun, wisps straggling against my pale skin.
I was blowing on my fingernails, willing the nail polish to dry when Cody interrupted my thoughts.
"Amber, it's too hot here. Let's go down to the lake. There's at least a breeze there."
I was alive to that prospect. I had been wishing for a cooling rain shower, but a breeze would be welcome.
"C'mon, put away that stuff. I'll get my keys." He pressed my shoulder as he passed behind me, let his hand trail down my arm. It was an easy, natural motion, but unlike any he had made before.
Down by the lake, we found a solitary bench perched on a point of land, sheltered by a lonely oak. The breeze whipped my hair. We groaned with envy, discussing the line up of bands Michael and Neil were going to see tonight.
As a consolation, Cody mentioned a bootleg recording of a Black Sabbath concert he got from a regular at the record store. We could listen to it while the guys were at the show. We ran out of talk about the upcoming concert and lapsed into silence.
