Center of it All VIII
Rachel and Fran were waiting for us when we pulled up to the corner at 8:30 in the morning. We had been out together every night since we met at the party, but today would be our last day together. I was heading back home the next morning, and Yoni would be going back to Yeshiva on Thursday.
Summer was winding down, and we wanted to make the most of our last full day. Six Flags was only a 45-minute drive from Chicago, and we made plans with the girls to spend the day there.
As we had done the past few nights, I moved to the back seat of the car, to sit with Rachel, while Fran sat up front with Yoni. We had been out late the night before, and Rachel quickly fell asleep, leaning her head against my shoulder. I spent the entire drive with my arm around her, smelling her hair and wondering if she would wake up if my hand accidentally grazed a boob.
We had seen each other every night since we met, but it had never gotten as physically intense as it did the night we met. Still, I bathed in her scent, fully aware that this would be my last opportunity to be in such close proximity to a girl for quite some time.
I tried to listen to the conversation in the front seat, but with the music playing, and me being forced to sit back in the seat, I couldn’t hear much.
The weather was perfect when we arrived. We bought tickets, and went into the park.
I reached out to Rachel, and she grabbed my hand. She looked fantastic. She was wearing a short denim skirt, with a short-sleeved T-shirt that said Bewitched across the front. Fran looked good too, in a long flairy skirt and a striped top. We were wearing shorts and T-shirts, with baseball caps instead of our normal yarmulkas.
It was my first time at an amusement park without any type of adult supervision, and the freedom was exhilarating. I had a girl on my arm, some money in my pocket, and I knew, the day was ours to make what we wanted.
The four of us started out together, but soon we split up. Yoni and Fran wanted to go on the Roller Coasters. I was never a big roller coaster fan, and neither was Rachel, and after the first one, when I thought I left my stomach at the top of the hill, I had enough.
We walked through the park, going on some of the smaller rides, watching a show, and recording a song together. We played some games, and I won her a small teddy bear with the Six Flags logo stitched into its bottom.
It was getting hot, and we decided to go on the log flume to cool off. The line was long, but moved quickly, and soon I sat down in the log, and felt her sit down on me. I wrapped my arms around her, and we were laughing as the log made its way up the mechanical hill. My legs were pressed into the foot rest, flat along the bottom of the ride. Rachel’s feet were flat on the floor, and her legs were bent at the knees. Her skirt started to ride up a little past her knee, her denim skirt holding her legs in place. I kissed her neck as reached the top, and felt her squeeze my hand as the log began its descent.
We reached the bottom with a huge splash, the water soaking us. The cool water felt good in the hot weather, but Rachel shrieked.
“The water filled my skirt,” she yelled.
“What,” I asked, not fully hearing.
“The water from the ride filled up my skirt and soaked my underwear,” she repeated. “I need to stand up so I can pour it out.” The skirt had acted as a basin, catching the water and holding it there.
“I heard they have fish swimming in the Log Ride,” I joked. “You better hope there aren’t any swimming in your skirt.”
The ride ended, and we got off the log, water pouring out of Rachel’s skirt and all my legs when she stood up.
We walked around for a few minutes, trying to dry off.
“I can’t keep walking like this,” she said. She pointed to the ladies’ room. “I’ll be right back.
She came back a few minutes later, smiling mischievously.
She leaned toward me, stretching her body so that she was whispering in my ear.
“Your girlfriend’s not wearing any panties,” she said excitedly.
She reached into her purse and took out the soaking wet panties. “Here’s something to remember me by,” she said, and put the balled up panties in my hand.
I wanted to hold them and open them and smell them, but instead, I put them in my pocket.
“I always wanted a pair of those,” I told her. “And a yellow flower pattern. Just the color I was looking for.”
It was almost one o’clock, and we had planned to meet back up with Yoni and Fran near the entrance for some lunch at one, so we headed back.
“What did you guys bring to eat,” Rachel asked. “I’m starving.”
“Umm, nothing, I don’t think,” I stammered. “It never occurred to us.”
Fran and Yoni were waiting for us when we got to the fountain.
“Hey genius,” I said. “We got no food.”
“Maybe we can get something here,” Yoni answered.
“My family always eats the popcorn and cotton candy wherever we are,” Fran offered.
“But is it Kosher,” Yoni asked.
“It doesn’t have any hashgacha, but there’s nothing in it,” Fran replied. “And I saw some kosher ice cream when we were walking through the park.”
“I’m not eating anything that isn’t kosher,” Rachel said. “But I guess I can survive on ice cream and some candy bars.”
That settled it, and we had Good Humor bars for lunch. Fran tried to get us to eat her popcorn, but none of us had any. I wondered if I would have had some if Rachel offered, and was glad I didn’t have to make that choice.
We made plans to meet at the Grand Music Hall for an eight-o’clock concert, and walked our separate ways. The rest of the afternoon was a blur of rides and games, each activity punctuated by a quick make-out session.
We had an hour to kill before the concert, and were walking around eating our third ice cream bars of the afternoon when Rachel brought it up.
“You’re leaving tomorrow, huh,” she said.
“Yeah. I gotta go home and get ready for Yeshiva to start.” I answered.
“When does school start?”
“Next Thursday, but I need to pack my stuff and get ready to go. I have a ton of stuff I need to do before I go.”
We walked in silence for a few steps.
“Are you going to call me,” she asked. “I mean, when you’re home, or in Yeshiva.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I said. The truth was, I knew I couldn’t just make long distance calls whenever I wanted, and as much fun as I was having with Rachel, I didn’t want to get kicked out of school over her.
“I really like you,” she said.
I was surprised when I heard those words. No girl had ever said anything like that to me before.
“I really like you too,” I answered. “I hope we can stay in touch somehow. Can you write to me?”
“Won’t you get in trouble for getting mail from a girl?”
“Not if you are smart. You just have to follow some rules.”
“Like what?”
“No girly handwriting on the envelope, and a fake name on the return address.” I wondered if I should give her limits, but decided against it.
“Will you write me back?”
“Sure, I will.”
“I’m really going to miss you when you leave,” and I thought I heard her voice shaking.
Please don’t cry, I silently prayed. Please don’t cry. I squeezed her hand in mine.
“I’m going to miss you too. I wish there was a way we could still see each other, but I don’t know when or how.”
I turned to face her, and saw a tear running down her cheek.
“Don’t cry,” I said, wiping away her tear. “Let’s just have a good time tonight, and we’ll let whatever happens happen. Besides, I will always something to remember you by,” and I guided her hand to the lump in my pocket.
When we got to the Grand Music Hall, Yoni and Fran were waiting for us. Rachel wasn’t in the mood for a concert anymore, and I was feeling pretty tired, so Yoni and Fran agreed to leave.
The ride home was quiet, and an hour later we were near the girls’ neighborhood. As we had done every night for the past week, we drove to a parking lot three blocks away, and let them out of the car.
I gave Rachel a quick goodbye kiss, mumbled something about how it was nice to meet her and I looked forward to hearing from her, and jumped back into the car before she could say anything.
We drove a block away before I pulled out the balled up panties from my pocket. “Rachel gave me her panties,” I bragged.
“Fran blew me,” he said, one-upping me.
“You win,” I said.
“I’m just messing with you,” Yoni said. “She didn’t do it.”
“Asshole,” was all I could say back.
For the next two years, from the beginning of eleventh grade through our senior year, whenever we needed to talk privately, we would work Six Flags into a sentence.
And now, “SixFlags” had gained me access into Yoni’s computer.
The preceding story is a work of fiction. You can read the beginning of "The Center of it All earlier on this blog.
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Summer was winding down, and we wanted to make the most of our last full day. Six Flags was only a 45-minute drive from Chicago, and we made plans with the girls to spend the day there.
As we had done the past few nights, I moved to the back seat of the car, to sit with Rachel, while Fran sat up front with Yoni. We had been out late the night before, and Rachel quickly fell asleep, leaning her head against my shoulder. I spent the entire drive with my arm around her, smelling her hair and wondering if she would wake up if my hand accidentally grazed a boob.
We had seen each other every night since we met, but it had never gotten as physically intense as it did the night we met. Still, I bathed in her scent, fully aware that this would be my last opportunity to be in such close proximity to a girl for quite some time.
I tried to listen to the conversation in the front seat, but with the music playing, and me being forced to sit back in the seat, I couldn’t hear much.
The weather was perfect when we arrived. We bought tickets, and went into the park.
I reached out to Rachel, and she grabbed my hand. She looked fantastic. She was wearing a short denim skirt, with a short-sleeved T-shirt that said Bewitched across the front. Fran looked good too, in a long flairy skirt and a striped top. We were wearing shorts and T-shirts, with baseball caps instead of our normal yarmulkas.
It was my first time at an amusement park without any type of adult supervision, and the freedom was exhilarating. I had a girl on my arm, some money in my pocket, and I knew, the day was ours to make what we wanted.
The four of us started out together, but soon we split up. Yoni and Fran wanted to go on the Roller Coasters. I was never a big roller coaster fan, and neither was Rachel, and after the first one, when I thought I left my stomach at the top of the hill, I had enough.
We walked through the park, going on some of the smaller rides, watching a show, and recording a song together. We played some games, and I won her a small teddy bear with the Six Flags logo stitched into its bottom.
It was getting hot, and we decided to go on the log flume to cool off. The line was long, but moved quickly, and soon I sat down in the log, and felt her sit down on me. I wrapped my arms around her, and we were laughing as the log made its way up the mechanical hill. My legs were pressed into the foot rest, flat along the bottom of the ride. Rachel’s feet were flat on the floor, and her legs were bent at the knees. Her skirt started to ride up a little past her knee, her denim skirt holding her legs in place. I kissed her neck as reached the top, and felt her squeeze my hand as the log began its descent.
We reached the bottom with a huge splash, the water soaking us. The cool water felt good in the hot weather, but Rachel shrieked.
“The water filled my skirt,” she yelled.
“What,” I asked, not fully hearing.
“The water from the ride filled up my skirt and soaked my underwear,” she repeated. “I need to stand up so I can pour it out.” The skirt had acted as a basin, catching the water and holding it there.
“I heard they have fish swimming in the Log Ride,” I joked. “You better hope there aren’t any swimming in your skirt.”
The ride ended, and we got off the log, water pouring out of Rachel’s skirt and all my legs when she stood up.
We walked around for a few minutes, trying to dry off.
“I can’t keep walking like this,” she said. She pointed to the ladies’ room. “I’ll be right back.
She came back a few minutes later, smiling mischievously.
She leaned toward me, stretching her body so that she was whispering in my ear.
“Your girlfriend’s not wearing any panties,” she said excitedly.
She reached into her purse and took out the soaking wet panties. “Here’s something to remember me by,” she said, and put the balled up panties in my hand.
I wanted to hold them and open them and smell them, but instead, I put them in my pocket.
“I always wanted a pair of those,” I told her. “And a yellow flower pattern. Just the color I was looking for.”
It was almost one o’clock, and we had planned to meet back up with Yoni and Fran near the entrance for some lunch at one, so we headed back.
“What did you guys bring to eat,” Rachel asked. “I’m starving.”
“Umm, nothing, I don’t think,” I stammered. “It never occurred to us.”
Fran and Yoni were waiting for us when we got to the fountain.
“Hey genius,” I said. “We got no food.”
“Maybe we can get something here,” Yoni answered.
“My family always eats the popcorn and cotton candy wherever we are,” Fran offered.
“But is it Kosher,” Yoni asked.
“It doesn’t have any hashgacha, but there’s nothing in it,” Fran replied. “And I saw some kosher ice cream when we were walking through the park.”
“I’m not eating anything that isn’t kosher,” Rachel said. “But I guess I can survive on ice cream and some candy bars.”
That settled it, and we had Good Humor bars for lunch. Fran tried to get us to eat her popcorn, but none of us had any. I wondered if I would have had some if Rachel offered, and was glad I didn’t have to make that choice.
We made plans to meet at the Grand Music Hall for an eight-o’clock concert, and walked our separate ways. The rest of the afternoon was a blur of rides and games, each activity punctuated by a quick make-out session.
We had an hour to kill before the concert, and were walking around eating our third ice cream bars of the afternoon when Rachel brought it up.
“You’re leaving tomorrow, huh,” she said.
“Yeah. I gotta go home and get ready for Yeshiva to start.” I answered.
“When does school start?”
“Next Thursday, but I need to pack my stuff and get ready to go. I have a ton of stuff I need to do before I go.”
We walked in silence for a few steps.
“Are you going to call me,” she asked. “I mean, when you’re home, or in Yeshiva.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I said. The truth was, I knew I couldn’t just make long distance calls whenever I wanted, and as much fun as I was having with Rachel, I didn’t want to get kicked out of school over her.
“I really like you,” she said.
I was surprised when I heard those words. No girl had ever said anything like that to me before.
“I really like you too,” I answered. “I hope we can stay in touch somehow. Can you write to me?”
“Won’t you get in trouble for getting mail from a girl?”
“Not if you are smart. You just have to follow some rules.”
“Like what?”
“No girly handwriting on the envelope, and a fake name on the return address.” I wondered if I should give her limits, but decided against it.
“Will you write me back?”
“Sure, I will.”
“I’m really going to miss you when you leave,” and I thought I heard her voice shaking.
Please don’t cry, I silently prayed. Please don’t cry. I squeezed her hand in mine.
“I’m going to miss you too. I wish there was a way we could still see each other, but I don’t know when or how.”
I turned to face her, and saw a tear running down her cheek.
“Don’t cry,” I said, wiping away her tear. “Let’s just have a good time tonight, and we’ll let whatever happens happen. Besides, I will always something to remember you by,” and I guided her hand to the lump in my pocket.
When we got to the Grand Music Hall, Yoni and Fran were waiting for us. Rachel wasn’t in the mood for a concert anymore, and I was feeling pretty tired, so Yoni and Fran agreed to leave.
The ride home was quiet, and an hour later we were near the girls’ neighborhood. As we had done every night for the past week, we drove to a parking lot three blocks away, and let them out of the car.
I gave Rachel a quick goodbye kiss, mumbled something about how it was nice to meet her and I looked forward to hearing from her, and jumped back into the car before she could say anything.
We drove a block away before I pulled out the balled up panties from my pocket. “Rachel gave me her panties,” I bragged.
“Fran blew me,” he said, one-upping me.
“You win,” I said.
“I’m just messing with you,” Yoni said. “She didn’t do it.”
“Asshole,” was all I could say back.
For the next two years, from the beginning of eleventh grade through our senior year, whenever we needed to talk privately, we would work Six Flags into a sentence.
And now, “SixFlags” had gained me access into Yoni’s computer.
The preceding story is a work of fiction. You can read the beginning of "The Center of it All earlier on this blog.
posted by Air Time at 11:20 AM
15 Comments:
I'm still with you.
You're twisted dude. And the names from the past are just totally messing me up!
you are on a roll
I'm totally cracking up from these names! And I love the password!
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Must be fiction, Rach.
Glad you all are enjoying the story.
Air,
As evidenced by these comments, there's enough non-fiction in this fiction to make it believable and to keep your readers wanting for more. This is really good stuff, and take your time writing, we'll wait, if it continues to be this good.
its not about rachel or fran. I just borrowed your names.
Weltate - Was rachel a really good girl too?
this and dov bear's post
http://dovbear.blogspot.com/2005/09/light-to-nations-not-if-there-is-buck.html
are perfectly timned
Hi I just wanted to send a quick note to let you know I really enjoyed
Thanks to everyone who has commented. I am working on the next part. I finished it, read it, hated it and have to redo it. I am hoping to have it here on Monday.
I like the dreams of the future better than the history of the past.
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