(Don't blame my editor for any errors, as this was rushed out without his kind assistance.)
"Hi Larry," Vernon cheerily greeted his friend. He stood in the doorway leaning against the frame, with a disarming smile on his face. He watched his friend turn from the computer screen with his mind still on whatever it was he had been working on.
"Hi Vern," he absently replied. "Hey, what are you doing here?" he added.
"Nice morning for a stroll, bit restless as well. Couldn't sleep with a mystery on my mind," he said. On opening the door he had detected the scent of a woman, amongst the bitter smell of electronic circuits. Now he was sure, his geeky friend had made a conquest, and it amused him.
That must be why he hadn't been pestered for the promised, all important, magic games console. His reception was always hit and miss, not just with Larry either, but this was more than usually off-putting. Perhaps the new friend was a pariah and Larry didn't want anyone to see her. Or, maybe Larry was afraid she might fall for the campus heart-throb.
It was his skills in electronics that brought the two friends together, when Larry devised some surveillance devices for his uncle. Somehow their personalities fit together; the awkward teenager, with the confident man of the world. Both of them were eighteen, yet polls apart, where experience of life was concerned. They were both quietly spoken and thoughtful and both could handle an awkward situation, with words or violence.
Vernon smiled again, when his friend looked toward the bedroom door, wearing a worried look. He felt like reassuring Larry, that whoever it was, they were safe from him. He already had what he wanted. "I was curious about a girl dressed in a French maid outfit. Gave her a lift to near here, last night, wondered who she might be."
Larry looked startled for just a moment. He couldn't help glancing furtively toward the bedroom door. "She had big tits, like Rebecca's mom. Probably false as part of the outfit," he added. The look on his friends face was comical. He was trying to cover up a look of angry guilt, with nonchalance, only the emotions rippled over his face while it grew red with embarrassment.
"OK! No problem, I just thought I'd ask that's all. I had to come by anyway, to deliver a promise. Why are we whispering?" Vernon suddenly asked. He noticed Larry was too distracted to ask what was meant by a promise. Why wasn't he clamouring for the games console?
"Come on Larry, who have you got in there?" Vernon chided him. He chuckled with a conspiratorial look on his face, meaning to get him to introduce this new found friend. Whatever was going on, it was important to him, so Vernon wasn't going to push too hard. The look of defiance on Larry's face was enough to warn him off.
"OK! Do you want this games machine or not?" Vernon asked, pointing at a box just outside the door. The lurid colours and pictures were enough of a clue as to what it was. Larry's look of despondency rattled him.
Vernon picked up the box and brought it in, plonking it down on the sofa. "Mind if I use the bathroom," he asked.
"Yea, sure, Vern. Hey, thanks for the mark two," Larry softly said, obviously trying to sound enthusiastic, though failing.
Vernon waved away the thanks as he strode to the bathroom. The lack of interest confirmed something was up. A girl could do that to a guy. If she was the type to mess with Larry, he was just the person to put her right.
A black something, with frilly white trim, was spilling out from a laundry basket. He opened it up and smiled to himself. The French maid outfit! Remembering what happened last night his expression turned to anger. His friend's girlfriend had been abused by those morons! So that was why Larry was so jumpy. It was reason enough to whisper if she was sleeping off the hurt.
She hadn't seemed drunk, like the waitress, but there was something wrong. He had sensed it on entering that dirty room last night.
From the bathroom another door led into the bedroom. He pushed it gently, anticipating the telltale sticking point that would herald a squeaking groan of wood on wood or hinges shrieking. Luckily it was silent. Opening it enough to stick his head around the door, he did just that.
It wasn't a young girl asleep in the bed, it was a mature woman. The face was in repose at an unfamiliar angle with an unfamiliar expression on her face. She moaned, creasing her brow from a bad dream, or memory. He ducked back in, with that familiar image about to make sense; to be recognised. Vernon flushed the toilet and put his hand on the door to the lounge that was really a workshop.
His upper body carried on through the door while his feet had just caught up with the shock. Consequently he stumbled in. Larry stood in the same spot, looking down at the games console wrapping, still unopened. The looks that passed between them confirmed Vernon now knew and that each other knew it too.
Vernon marched across the room and grabbed his friend's shirt in both fists. "You had better tell me what's going on here," Vernon slowly stated. The familiar threatening voice was low and heavy. It had never ever been used against Larry, before this moment.
"It's none of your business, just go. Get out!" Larry hissed quietly back at him.
"It is my business. You have my girlfriend's mother in that bed. I want to know what's been going on. Shit! Last night, did she tell you about that?" he asked, while slowly shaking Larry in a tight grip. He knew his friend was no push over, another reason why he liked the guy, but he just stood there taking it. He looked exhausted.
"You OK?" he asked.
The sudden change in tone of voice, to one of thoughtfulness, woke Larry from the nightmare as though he had been slapped. He hadn't slept all night, thinking her ordeal last night had been his fault. He was still wondering what he could do about it.
"You're out of your depth, you need help. She's a professor, the head of a department, and she's in your bed. Let me help you buddy. I'm discreet Larry, you know that," he said.
They were touching foreheads. So close, Larry couldn't help seeing the stark sincerity in his eyes. He could no longer hold back the tears. In both eyes drops blossomed but did not fall.
Vernon pulled back, embarrassed for his friend. "I'll make a coffee while you tell me everything," he demanded. It was beginning to hit him, harder than a blow from that big lug of a football player. He and Rebecca had walked in on her mother last night. She had been in an orgy with those stupid people, waiting for more idiots to arrive! She wore a mask so none recognised her, thankfully, not even her daughter.
Bob and his friends were morally retarded, hence the dismal condition they found the two women in that room. Why had she been there? Why was she just there waiting for more? Shaking his head, Vernon attempted to put aside the doubts until he heard Larry's tale of woe. Realising he had just been standing there, he spooned coffee granules into a couple of mugs.
"Why do you drink this stuff?" Vernon asked, shoving a mug into his hand.
"Because it's quick and easy to make and it tastes reasonable every time," Larry answered, more like his old self, while on safe ground. "You just get used to it," he added.
"Not bad. So how did the hard case professor get into your bed? Start at the beginning and tell me. You need serious help, my friend," Vernon stated. He watched the geeky guy nod his head. The look on his face relaxed on realising he could share the burden with a dependable friend.
