Mickey turned the volume on his stereo to maximum. He lay back on the bed and pressed the sides of his pillow to his ears, trying desperately to shut out the noise from the room next door. When that didnât work, he got up, switched on the T.V as well, then angrily went back and buried his head deep under his pillow. As the track playing reached its noisy crescendo, the sounds next door also came to a climax. He sat up and switched off the T.V with the remote and was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief as silence filled the room. After a couple of minutes he heard the door of the adjacent room open then close and footsteps head off down the hall. Mickey tried to calm down and flick through a magazine, but soon abandoned it, his face still bright red with anger and embarrassment. He hated in when his sister had sex.
Sophie had been seeing this guy, whoever he was, for about a month. Mickey hadnât even met him yet, didnât know anything about him except that his name appeared to be Max. He had only gathered this from hearing his sister groan it during their constant sessions in her room. Whoever he was, the guy worked quietly, because Mickey only ever heard his sisterâs voice moaning in pleasure or begging for more. With these thoughts still bugging him, Mickey shoved his feet into his shoes, grabbed his coat and headed for the door. He had no idea where he was going, he just had to get out of the house and away from that infuriating nympho in the next room. Getting into his old but reliable car, Mickey drove away from the house in the hope that putting some distance between them might calm him a little.
Things had been difficult for Mickey ever since they had moved to this stupid new town. He had always been a shy, quiet guy, and being dragged away from the few friends he had turned him into a virtual hermit. Still a virgin at 18, he had never been good with girls, always saying the wrong thing or blushing at the wrong time. He had always been in pretty good shape, with a sort of boyish charm, short, spiky hair and a cheeky grin that girls found âcuteâ but never really sexy. Like any other 18-year-old, Mickey thought about sex a lot, but he was always too nervous to try and actually do anything about it. Besides, his sisterâs constant escapades always put him off any sexual thoughts he might be having.
Now Sophie, on the other hand... she was a different matter altogether. At 20, she was bubbly, outgoing and very flirtatious when she wanted to be, with a body that left guys- and girls- drooling in the street- firm, round 34c breasts with perky nipples that always seemed to be hard, a tight little bum which wiggled a bit as she walked, and a slim waist which many a guy tried to slip his arm around. All in all, she was a gorgeous little package and certainly never lacking in company. When the family had moved two months earlier to follow their fatherâs work, Sophie had happily left her vast group of former friends behind and easily slipped into a new circle, making Mickey all the more depressed. There was one girl she had become particularly close to, a stunning creature who Mickey had often seen her out with but to whom he had never been formally introduced, as with all her friends. The one thought that had kept him sane these past few weeks was that in just a few monthâs time he would be off to university. He hoped he could start a new life, make new friends, maybe even get a girlfriend. As he glanced at himself in the rear view mirror, he sighed and realised heâd spent the whole drive in which heâd been trying to clear his head thinking even more about how crappy life was. Spotting a pub pass by, Mickey pulled over and parked the car.
Stumbling up the stairs, his head woozy as the world spun, Mickey tried his best to be quiet. He couldnât remember where the pub was at which heâd left the car, but it couldnât have been far because somehow heâd managed to stagger home. Unsurprisingly, all the lights were off when he got through the front door. In the dark, he clumsily felt his way through the hall, up the stairs and across the landing. As he passed his sisterâs room on the way to the bathroom, Mickey noticed a light shining through the crack under the door. In his drunken state, whilst splashing cold water onto his face, he could have sworn he heard giggling and a slight buzzing noise. Feeling sick, Mickey staggered back to his room, collapsed on the bed, and passed out.
Summer had crept by far too slowly for Mickey. Having no real friends, he had spent most of it sitting in his room dreaming and counting down the days until he left for university. This solitude was only interrupted twice- the first time by a much-welcomed fortnight spent back in his old town with his friends, and the second by a two-week family holiday in Spain. This trip was the worst period of the whole summer for Mickey. His parents did their best to keep him amused, offering to take him out on daytrips with them when they went sightseeing. He always went along, not wanting to seem ungrateful, but each time was relieved to get back to his room in the villa, put on his headphones, and lose himself in his music. The worst part of the whole experience, however, was Sophie. She strutted around the place like she owned it, usually wearing nothing more than her skimpy pink bikini which left very little to the imagination. Every night she would dress up (or rather down) in tops which squeezed her tight breasts even closer together and revealed most of them, and skirts that looked more like belts. She would then demand money from their parents, who willingly gave it to her, partly because they wanted her to have a good time, but mainly because they couldnât bear the thought of her stomping around the place if she couldnât go out. As always, she virtually ignored Mickey, which was fine by him. On more than one occasion, Sophie didnât return the same night, strolling in the next morning with her clothes in disarray. Mickey was so relieved when the final day passed and they boarded the plane back to England. Just three more weeks to go.
Packing the boot of his car, Mickey wore the biggest grin in as long as he could remember. His parents stood in the doorway, excited for him but naturally sad to see him go. They had offered to drive him, but as he was going to university in a city 200 miles away, he didnât feel the 8 hour round trip was fair on them, considering how busy with work they both were. As he shut the boot, Mickey took one last look up at the house, glancing for a second in the direction of his sisterâs window. Typical. She hadnât even bothered to look out and wave goodbye. The way Mickey was feeling right now, that didnât matter to him in the slightest. Still grinning, he felt a pang of sadness and guilt on seeing the looks on his parentsâ faces as he went over to give them a final hug. Quickly shaking this feeling off, he jumped into the car and hit the road, waving out of the window as he pulled off. He was finally on the way!
Mickey closed the door and sat down at his desk. With a sigh, he opened a book and decided heâd better get on with the essay that was due in on Friday. University life wasnât turning out quite as heâd hoped. Sure, heâd made some friends, a few of them he was even quite close to, but in the two months heâd been there he still hadnât yet managed to get a girl to look at him twice. Just as he began to contemplate this, the phone rang and made him jump.
âHello?â
âMichael, dear, itâs mum.â
His mother was the only person who ever called him âMichaelâ.
âHi mum, whatâs up?â
âWhy does something have to be âupâ? Am I not allowed to phone my son occasionally just to say hello?â
Her voice sounded hurt. Mickey was instantly annoyed at himself for his bluntness.
âIâm sorry, mum, of course you can! How are things at home?â
âOh, just fine, your father is killing himself with work as usual!â she joked.
âGlad to hear things are still normal then! How are you?â he enquired, feeling guilty at having left it so long since he last called.
âFine as well, dear, thank you for asking.â
She went on to describe in some detail over the next twenty minutes every recent event, from the leaking tap in the bathroom to the state of his uncleâs bowel condition. Mickey in the meantime settled back on the bed, listening politely and adding the occasional appropriate murmur of acknowledgement. Eventually, the conversation began to wind up. As an afterthought, Mickey asked,
âAnd howâs Sophie?â
âOh, itâs a good thing you mentioned her, dear! I almost forgot!â his mother exclaimed.
âForgot what?â asked Mickey.
âShe and that best friend of hers, theyâre going to some concert-or-other near you next weekend. She asked me to tell you they might stop by and say hello!â