Flesh

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Alison felt herself becoming more nervous as she approached home. She had hoped that Evan would show up while she was sunbathing on the grassy quad and save her from the necessity of calling him. It would have been so much easier, that way.

Naturally, he hadn’t put in an appearance. He’d probably spent the whole afternoon in his apartment, waiting for his phone to ring.

I’ve got to call him right away, Alison thought as she climbed the outside stairway. The longer I put it off, the worse it will be.

At the top of the stairs, she found the door standing open. She stepped inside and took off her sunglasses.

On the television screen was some horror movie with a teenage girl running through the woods, chased by a maniac. Helen was asleep on the sofa, wearing only a white bra and panties. The panties were so old that the fabric had torn away from the elastic waistband at one hip and drooped, showing a crescent of skin that looked like uncooked dough.

Alison went over to the television and turned it off.

“Hey, what’re you doing?”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Just resting my eyes.”

Alison turned the TV on again and stepped out of the way.

“The door was wide open,” she said. “Good thing I’m the one who came in, and not some nut off the street.”

“Had to get some breeze. In case you didn’t notice, it’s hotter than a hooker’s twat in here.”

“Any calls?”

“You mean lover boy? Nope, he didn’t call. I suspect that’s intended to be your move.”

“No doubt,” she said, the knot in her stomach seeming to tighten. “Celia back yet?”

“Guess she just can’t get enough of that freshman meat.”

“She call or anything?”

“Nope.”

Alison frowned. “I hope she’s all right.”

“She must be raw, by now.”

“This is a long time to be gone.”

“Maybe it’s love. Isn’t that what you wanted for her?”

“Sure,” Alison said.

“Any minute, she’ll come limping in. So, you gonna give Evan a buzz, or what?”

“I think I’ll get cleaned up first.”

“Keep putting it off, he’ll forget who you are.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” With a smile, Alison turned away. She went up to her room, grabbed her robe, and trotted down the stairs again.

In the bathroom, she hung her robe on the door and took off the oversized shirt she had worn as a cover-up. Her bikini was damp with perspiration and stained by suntan oil. Since she might want to wear it again before laundry day, she left it on when she stepped under the shower.

The hot, pelting spray felt good. She turned slowly beneath it. As her bikini became wet, its thin fabric clung to her. She liked the way it hugged her breasts and groin and rump, so she left it on while she shampooed her hair. With sudsy hands, she rubbed the bikini to clean it.

Tonight, she thought, the hands on me will be Evan’s.

What happened to celibacy?

We’ll see.

If you go at it with him, you’ll be back where you started. You’ll never find out if there’s anything more.

I’ll try to hold off.

Rinsing the shampoo from her hair, Alison thought, it’s like going to a party where you know there’ll be drinking. You have to make up your mind, before you start out, that you won’t get drunk. If you just go unprepared, it sneaks up on you, one drink leads to another, and before long you’re blotto.

Or before long, as the case may be, you’re naked and he’s slipping into you.

Which might not be all that bad.

Alison untied the wet cords of the bikini top and peeled the clinging fabric off her breasts. She held it up close to the nozzle. The spray caught it and tugged at it. After a few moments, she turned to the shower, wrung out the excess water, and draped the top over the curtain rod.

She didn’t think that she had burned, but with the bikini top off she could see that her skin had a light pink hue that looked as if it had been sprayed on, leaving a well-defined line that angled across the tops of her breasts. On the other side of the line, her skin looked bleached.

Real cute, she thought. Boobs like bugging eyes.

I don’t think Evan will complain.

Evan ain’t gonna see them, is he?

You’d better decide.

Later. If I try to decide now, it won’t bode well for abstinence.

She untied the cords at each hip. The triangle of fabric in front was so small that the weight of the hanging cords was enough to pull it down. She plucked the seat away from her buttocks and the garment came away. She rinsed it, wrung it out, and hung it on the rod beside her top.

Alison picked up a slick bar of soap and began to lather her body.

If you see Evan tonight, she thought, he’ll expect you to come across. Nice phrase, come across.

Too bad you’re not here right now, Evan old pal. There wouldn’t be much of a fight. Hell, there wouldn’t be any fight. You might be the wrong guy, but you’d do in a pinch. Just catch me any time after I’ve been lying out in the sun for a while.

Maybe the sun’s an aphrodisiac. Or maybe it’s the feel or smell of the oil. Or maybe it’s just that you’re sprawled out almost naked, and the sun is hot on your bare skin and you can feel it through your bikini and sometimes a breeze comes along, caressing you.

I ought to write a paper on it for Dr. Blaine next time he asks for a descriptive passage. Give the guy a hard-on. He’d put it in me if I gave him half a chance. Horniest prof I’ve ever seen.

Let’s not disparage horny.

But let’s get over it before we make the big call to Evan.

How’s about the old cold shower trick?

Thanks, I’d much prefer to stay horny.

But the house was hot. If she didn’t force herself to undergo the torment of a cold shower, the sweat would pop out as soon as she had dried herself, and she’d stay dripping for a long time.

Laughing a little, Alison turned the hot water faucet. The spray became cool, then chilly. She clenched her teeth. She felt goose bumps rise on her skin. She stood rigid with her back to the cold shower, buttocks flexed tight, fists pressing her cheeks. After a while, the cold deluge didn’t feel so bad on her back. She turned around and shuddered. Finally, she lowered her head into the spray. She felt as if someone had dumped a pitcher of ice water on her.

When she climbed out, the towel felt wonderful. She hugged it to her body, savoring the warmth and softness. As she started to dry her hair, a knock on the door made her flinch.

“Telephone,” Helen called.

Alison felt as if her breath had been knocked out. “Who is it?”

“It’s Helen, who do you think?”

“Very funny. Who’s on the phone?”

“Three guesses.”

“Oh, Jesus,” she muttered.

“Wrong. One down, two guesses to go.”

“Tell him I’ll be right there.”

“I could tell him you’ll call back.”

“No!” Alison draped the towel over her head and rushed to the door. She jerked the robe off its hook and put it on. The velour clung to her wet body. Helen stepped out of the way as she hurried into the hall.

“Slow down. I’m sure he isn’t going to hang up on you.”

Alison rubbed her hair with the towel a few more times on her way toward the living room. She rushed the rest of the way hunched over, sweeping the towel up and down her legs. She was a little breathless by the time she reached the telephone.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Evan said. In that one word, Alison heard a tension and weariness that seemed completely unlike him.

“How’re you doing?” she asked, trying to keep her own voice calm in spite of the tremor she felt inside. Water drops ran down the backs of her legs. She sat down in a chair. Her robe blotted some of the trickles.

“I’m okay, I guess,” Evan answered after a pause.

“I was planning to call you in about five minutes,” she said. “The flowers are lovely.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

She tried to think of what to say about the letter. Her mind seemed hazy. She rubbed her wet thighs with the towel. Helen came in from the corridor, grinned and made an O sign with her thumb and forefinger, then went into her room and shut the door.

The silence stretched out.

I’ve got to say something about the letter, Alison thought.

“I suppose you read my…apology.”

“Yeah.”

“What do you think?”

She felt as if the air were being squeezed from her lungs. Arching her back, she managed to take a deep breath. “I don’t know,” she said.

“I was such a jerk. About everything. I should’ve respected your decision. I was just…hurt and confused. But that’s no excuse. There is no excuse.”

“Temporary insanity?”

He made a feeble laugh.

“I’ll come over, if you want.” Alison could hardly believe she had said that. There had been no decision. At least not a conscious one.

“Really?” He sounded alive again. “Tonight?”

“What time?”

“Oh, God, Alison. I can’t believe it.”

“We’ll see how it goes.”

“It’ll go great. I promise. How about five?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll make us something terrific for dinner. I’ll pick up some champagne. It’ll be great. You’re incredible, did you know that?”

“I don’t want any hassles, though, okay? We’ll just have a friendly dinner and talk and see how it goes.”

“I’ve missed you so much.”

Alison’s throat tightened. “I’ve missed you, too. A lot. See you at five.”

“Would you like me to pick you up?”

“No. Thanks anyway. I think I’ll walk over. I need to stop by Baxter Hall for a second.”

“The freshman dorm?”

“I just need to talk to someone. Don’t worry, I haven’t thrown you over for a freshman. Or for anyone else, as a matter of fact.”

“Well, that’s good to know. Not that I’d blame you, after the way I treated you.”

“No more apologies, all right? Let’s just start out, from right now, with a clean slate. All that other stuff is water under the bridge, or over the dam, or wherever the hell the water is supposed to go.”

Like down your chest, she thought, and slid the towel over her wet neck and breasts.

“That’s fine with me,” Evan said.

“Okay. See you in a while.”

“If you can make it over sooner than five, that’d be fine.”

“We’ll see.”

“Take it easy, Al,” he said.

“Yeah. You, too.”

She hung up the phone, leaned back in the chair, and pulled her robe shut. A moment later, Helen’s door opened. “Did you catch all that?” Alison asked.

“Catch what?” Helen asked. “So what’s the verdict?”

“I’m going over for dinner tonight.”

“Well, say hey! Score one for love and true romance.”

“I don’t know about that, but I’m going.”

“What was that about Baxter Hall?”

“You were listening.”

“No. Who, me? But I couldn’t help catching a word here and there. You think Celia’s over at Baxter?”

“I don’t know. But I guess I’ll drop by and check things out. She’s probably not there, but maybe someone knows what’s up.”

“Gonna drop in on Roland?”

Alison wrinkled her nose. “He’s Jason’s roomy. If anyone knows where they are, he should.”

“That’ll be loads of fun.”

“Yeah, fun like the dry heaves.”

“You could phone instead. The next best thing to being there.”

“It’s on the way.”

Helen lowered her bushy eyebrows. “You don’t think anything’s wrong, do you?”

“I’m starting to get a little worried, aren’t you?”

“Celia’s a big girl.”

“She’s been gone a long time.”

“You want me to go with you for moral support?”

“You’d have to get dressed.”

Neither of them smiled.

“It’s all right,” Alison said. “I can handle it.”

“Well, don’t let him get you alone. Stay out of the room.”

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” She pushed herself up from the chair. “I’d better get a move on.”

Alison went up to her room. Sitting at her desk, she pulled open the drawer and took out the photographs of Evan.

We used to have great times together, she thought as she looked at the pictures. Maybe it isn’t over. Maybe this will be a new start, and everything will be wonderful from now on. Let’s hope so.

But don’t count on it.

She pinned the photos onto her bulletin board and stared at them.

In one, he was holding her hand.

In another, they were kissing.

In a third, they were seated on a blanket on the grass beneath an oak tree. Evan looked very pleased with himself. Though the photo didn’t show it, Alison remembered that his right hand was inside the rear of her shorts and panties, pressed tight against her rump.

Not long after that one was taken, they had gone to his apartment and made love on the living room floor. It was the only time they ever did it with Alison on top. She sat astride him, leaning forward and bracing herself up with stiff arms, Evan fondling and squeezing and sucking her breasts as she squirmed on him, impaled.

The memory of it sent a warm shimmer through Alison.

You have to get through tonight without any of that, she told herself. Even if it’s only tonight. One night without sex, no matter how much you both might want it. Otherwise, you’ll never know if there’s more.

Sex is like the knot that’s been holding us together, she thought. I’ve got to untie it, just once, just to see whether we come apart. Just to see if there’s another knot in the rope binding us to each other—a knot like love.