I knew something was wrong when the school counselor stepped into my classroom. I'd spoken with Mrs. Davis before when I found out I was eligible for a scholarship. Seeing her glance briefly in my direction, her look haunting when she did, just before approaching Mr. Benson, my social studies teacher. She whispered to him briefly in tones too low for anyone else to hear.
Mr. Benson's expression softened, further confirming that whatever news they were sharing, wasn't good. "Benson" as everyone called him was a no-nonsense kind of a teacher anyway. Seeing his expression, especially as he looked up in my direction said more than words ever could.
"Scott? You're needed in the counselor's office," he said almost apologetically.
Normally several snickers or jabs usually followed an announcement of this sort from fellow classmates. Eerily, it was as though everyone picked up that something was wrong. The fact that Mrs. Davis had come to get me herself, rather than sending a teachers aid along with a note to do it only emphasized the seriousness of the situation.
As I gathered my things shoving them inside my backpack, I found my hands were shaking. As I approached Mrs. Davis while she stood at the door waiting for me, her smile was genuinely sorrowful. I wanted to ask her right there and then what was wrong, but it was obvious she wasn't about to tell me anything yet. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly gone dry; licking my lips as I quietly followed her down the hallway back towards her office. When I arrived, there was a police officer, and my mothers best friend Mary waiting in her office for me.
"What's wrong?" I finally asked, no longer able to contain my curiosity. "Something's happened hasn't it?" I said already knowing the answer.
"Scott? Your mother and father..." Mary began, obviously choking back her own grief at this point.
I knew that Mary was the same age as my mother. Though at fifty, she looked easily ten years younger than that. Her dark brown hair was currently streaked with attractive looking blonde highlights, making her brown almost golden eyes even more alluring. She wore her hair short, swept up and feathered along the sides, making her the most attractive 'older woman' I knew. She was also tall for a woman, with long shapely legs, heart-shaped ass, and obviously full breasts. It was hard not to think about her without having lusty thoughts. Something I had often had about her, except for now.
"They're dead aren't they?" I interrupted knowingly.
Unable to continue, Mary looked towards the officer who cleared his throat stepping in. "I'm officer Jones," he began "Your mother and father were involved in an automobile accident this morning on their way to work. I'm sorry to have to tell you this Scott, but they were hit by an out of control eighteen wheeler, they were killed instantly."
I had no other family. No brothers, no sisters. My grandparents all having died years ago, and mother like me, an only child herself, so there were no aunts and uncles to even speak of. My father did have a brother, but he'd disappeared years ago after a dispute with my father over my grandparent's estate. So for all intents and purposes, I really had no family to speak of. Only "Aunt Mary" as I had grown to affectionately call my mothers long time friend.
Finally 'Aunt Mary' came to me, taking me into her arms hugging me affectionately, her tears freely flowing at this point.
"I'll take you home, we'll gather up what things you need to get by for a few days, then we'll sit down and sort this all out," she stated simply.
"Where am I going to live? What am I going to do?" I asked bewilderedly.
Once again the officer spoke trying to assuage my fears. "Arrangements are already being made so that you can stay with your mothers friend until such time as we can either locate your uncle, or make a determination as to what will be in your best interests," he said offhandedly.
"I don't want to live with my Uncle!" I informed everyone. "I don't even know where he is!" Turning towards Mary, I looked at her with fearful eyes. "Can't I stay with you?"
"Of course you will," she said determinedly. "Don't worry Scott, like I said, we'll sit down together and work everything out. There's no reason for you to be afraid!"
Mary had lost her husband several years' back. He'd been a member of the Special Forces during Vietnam, still MIA, or "Missing In Action" as it was officially termed, though everyone knew of course that after all this time, he was most certainly dead. Mary had never remarried, refusing for a number of years to even have her husband officially declared so.
And so it was that I eventually moved in for good with her. With less than three months remaining before I graduated from high school, and my eighteenth birthday less than a month away, things eventually settled into a resemblance of normalcy, even though Mary was unaccustomed to having anyone living with her as she and her husband had never had any children either. For a while, it was awkward, often difficult trying to stay out of one another's way, and especially in trying to keep from getting on each other's nerves. Eventually however, things began to iron themselves out, reaching a point where both Mary and I began to enjoy and appreciate having each other for company.
I had few friends, none really close. And though I had certainly dated, I currently didn't have a girlfriend to speak of either. When the day of my birthday came around, I had made no plans to spend it with anyone, doing anything, or going anywhere. Mary also knew I didn't want any kind of party, the death of my parents still too fresh for me to feel like celebrating. As such, she offered to treat me to dinner, and then to a movie afterwards. As I had been given, I chose both the restaurant, as well as whatever movie I wanted to see. Dinner had been great, and the movie was one filled full of adventure and intrigue. Something I'd hoped would help me keep my mind off the obvious. And it did, to some extent. But I hadn't realized when picking it, that there was a considerable amount of sexual activity that would be so openly dramatized. Sitting adjacent to 'Aunt Mary' made me feel self conscious several times during the showing, especially when I found myself becoming aroused. I dared not even look in her direction, fearful that if I did, I would see the embarrassment, if not downright indignation that I was putting her through watching this, just because it was my birthday.
"Well, that was certainly an interesting movie," she'd said moments after we'd exited the theatre.
I couldn't tell by the tone of her voice, nor by the expression on her face if she was subtly telling me she'd been uncomfortable watching it with me or not. I decided to refrain from saying anything, figuring under these circumstances that silence was the best answer to that.
To further impress that feeling upon myself, we drove home in silence. In the short time since I had come to live with Mary, it was the most awkward and longest silence we'd ever shared with one another. The images of the sexual activity taking place on screen were still burned into my mind however, and like a favorite song, I kept replaying them over and over inside my head. Still a virgin with respect to the fact I'd never had intercourse with anyone, I did have some limited experience with one or two girls I had known. But not much beyond the typical light petting. By the time we'd arrived home, I was all for running upstairs to my bedroom, locking myself in, and relieving what had become for me a most uncomfortable bit of pressure.
Mary's apartment was small, a two bedroom affair, one of which she'd been using mostly for storage until I'd come to live with her. There was only one bathroom, accessible either by the hallway entry, which stood directly across from my own bedroom, or through the connecting door on the other side to her bedroom. "I know you didn't want to make a big deal out of your birthday," she'd begun shortly after we'd arrived home, "but I did purchase a gallon of your favorite ice-cream. I thought we could share some while watching the late show on TV."