Chapter 2: Proximity is Everything
After school, Mark was up in his room lying on his bed. He was throwing a rubber ball against the wall, catching it with the other hand, then throwing it back with the other.
Sometimes he did this to help him think, and other times to relieve stress. Periodically Mark would pick up his notebook lying next to him, the one that Jeanie had written on earlier, and he studied her handwriting.
Mark wanted to call her right now. But he knew that would make him look desperate, so he continuously talked himself out of it.
Mark would periodically keep checking to ensure her signature and number were still on his notebook, thou, and not an illusion that would fade away and disappear like a mirage after so much time between glances.
Mark had already rewritten Jeanie's number on a Post-it and put that in case anything happened to his notebook.
Then Mark wrote down her name and number a third time and hid that piece of paper in a shoe box on top of his closet.
Mark constantly needed to prove to himself that everything that happened earlier wasn't a dream and that Jeanie was real, and he had her handwriting note memorized. Everything about Jeanie was sexy. Her signature: light, soft, and feminine.
He was still thinking about the images he saw about Jeanie and desperately wanted to know if any of it was true. Was Jeanie a witch? And that's when he heard his mother calling him from downstairs.
"Mark, can you come down here, please? You have company."
Mark was annoyed. He didn't want to go anywhere. Mark thought it was just one of his guy friends, Carlos or Kyle.
"Just send them up, Mom. You don't need to keep me in suspense, Mark said."
"No, you're going to have to come down here, his mom answered."
What the hell was going on, Mark thought.
Mark only had on his shorts and sandals as he walked down the stairs heavily, then turned the corner that led into the hallway that connected him with the kitchen, and that's when he saw Jeanie sitting in his kitchen. He was stunned.
Instantly everything felt surreal. Mark couldn't even talk for a second, and when he studied Jeanie from his position, the sun shone through the cracks between the blinds, which outlined her body and cast an aura of white, an aura that made her look like an angel, except for the wings.
Mark was mesmerized and continued staring at Jeanie until she was uncomfortable. His mother, Beth, was folding laundry, and she turned around, and when he saw him staring, Beth had to clear her throat.
"Is it Saturday already, Mark asked abruptly, pretending to shake the cobwebs out of his head?"
Jeanie laughed, but she would not look at him directly, he only had on shorts, and she blushed from his semi-nakedness."
"No, I'm early, Jeanie said, embarrassed."
Beth thru Mark's clean shirt, and it hit him in the head, covering his face, and he pulled it down in a slow-motion gesture.
Jeannie laughed again but still avoided eye contact until he finished dressing.
"I'm sorry, Jeannie, I thought it was one of my stupid guy friends, Mark said."
"Sorry to disappoint you, Jeanie said, smiling."
"I was just on my bed thinking about you, Mark said."
His mother coughed again.
"I mean daydreaming like in class...Mom, this is Jeanie, he said, turning to his mother, and she is a girlfriend from my class. He made sure to pause between the words girl and friend, so it sounded like two separate words," but she still stammered. Nobody could be cool in front of their mother, not even Mark.
"Yes, I met Jeannie, his mom said, and she's lovely.
"I'm going downstairs to finish the laundry. Why don't you take her out, and show her around, maybe introduce her to some of your friends, Beth said."
"Great idea, Mom. Mark agreed."
When his mom was out of earshot, Mark told Jeanie that he was daydreaming about her upstairs.
"Am I still dreaming, Mark asked her?"
Jeanie laughed, "You mean like in class?"
"You have that effect on me, Mark said?"
"What were you daydreaming this time Jeanie asked?"
"What I was going to say to you on Saturday, he said."
"Oh, Jeanie replied."
"How did you find me, Mark asked?"
"I discovered I only live a few houses up from you by accident. I was walking to the store when I saw your last name in the mailbox. Jeanie said I took a chance to see if you were the same "Winters" from my class."
"Wow, that was really brave of you, Mark said, impressed."
"Not brave, desperate, I needed to get out of the house, but I didn't want to go to the store by myself either, and I don't know anyone, so when I saw the name "Winters," I rolled the dice, would you like to come with, Jeanie asked a little sultry?"
"Indeed, I would, Mark replied."
Mark got so caught up in the moment that he rushed her out the door before Jeanie could stop him.
"Wait, Mark, tell your mom we're leaving, and when you'll, we'll be back, Jeanie said."
Mark ran through the door and yelled down the stairs to his mom, "Mom, I'm going to the store. Do you want anything, he asked?"
"No, but you better not ruin your appetite, dinner will be ready in half-hour, and Jeanie can stay if she wants, his mother offered."
Mark grabbed his jacket and ran back out to Jeanie.
"What were you going to buy at the store Mark asked."
"I don't know. I have a craving for Ice Cream, Jeanie said."
"What flavor, Mark asked?"
"Vanilla, Jeanie answered."
"Good call, Mark said, "but I must have mine dipped in sprinkles."
"Strawberry?" Jeanie asked.
"Yea, Mark looked at her a little dumbfounded. They're my favorite, he said."
"Mine too, Jeanie agreed, we even have ice cream in our freezer, but I have to sprinkles; otherwise, I won't eat it."
Wow, Mark thought to himself.
As we walked, Mark started telling Jeannie about the history of their subdivision, their school, the town, and some of the recent major events.
"They want to make this sub-division into a gated community, Mark told her.
"Why, Jeanie asked?"
"Because of my father, of all people, if you can believe that. Last year he came home early from work and discovered four or five inner city kids had broken into our yard and were swimming in our Pool, Mark told her."
"You have a pool? Jeanie asked?"
"Yea, why don't you come over tomorrow, and we can swim, " Mark said without missing a beat."
Jeanie laughed, "Well, finish telling me your story first, she said."
"My dad caught these black kids swimming in our pool when he came home early from work one day, and he ran out of the house with his rifle, Mark said."
"What happened, she asked?"
"He called the cops first and then ran outside, they were in the pool and tried to run, but he fired it off in the air before they could jump the fence."
"So, they got arrested, Jeanie asked?"
"Yes, he and Mayor are golfing buddies, Mark said."
"What does your dad do, Jeanie asked?"
"He's a prosecuting attorney who works for the city, which translates into making sure blacks and other minorities stay out of New Baltimore Heights."
"He sounds just like my dad, Jeanie said."
"I'm not like that, Mark added as an after-thought."
"Were you there when it happened, Jeanie asked."
"No, I was at school, Thank God, but I heard all about it over dinner. There was even a right-up in the paper. He made the front page of our local rag. And the city even gave him a metal plaque it hung above the fireplace in our living room.
"Very impressive, she said."
He bought several copies of the newspaper with him on it and had them reprinted, matted, and framed. He has one in his office and the other with the plaque.
"That's in the living room, too, Jeanie asked?"
"It's becoming more like a shrine, Mark laughed."
"So, your family is famous, she asked?"
"Infamous, Mark corrected. The next day everybody in school asked me what happened, but I told them I didn't know any more than they did because I was at school with them when it happened."
"What happened after that, Jeanie asked?"
"I think he got a promotion, Mark said."
Jeanie rolled her eyes, "No, I mean to the kids after they were arrested."
"I have no idea. My dad wanted to prosecute them himself, but the city wouldn't allow it."
"So, they never came back for another swim?"
"No, they were just high-school kids, skipping class and looking for something to do. When rich kids go to poor neighborhoods, they call it "slumming," I don't know what they call it when poor kids go to rich neighborhoods, Mark said."
"Trouble, Jeanie replied."
"Exactly, Mark agreed."
"Do you think your dad would have shot at them if they kept running, Jeanie asked?"
"I don't know. I think they thought he would have shot them, Mark replied."
"Can he have done that; I mean, with them being minors and all?"
"Well, you can't "legally" shoot someone in the back because the rationale is that your life was not in any immediate danger. I mean, don't quote me on that, but I think that's the standard for "Justifiable Homicide," I'm not a lawyer, but even I know that much, Mark said."
"Maybe your dad was more scared of them than they were of him, Jeanie suggested?"
"Yeah, I mean, they may have been kids, but they were big kids, they were all as tall or taller than my dad, and he's over six-foot, Mark explained."
"Did they do any actual damage, Jeanie asked?"
"Not really, they might have trashed our yard a little by tearing out a few of my mom's rosebuds, and we did find a broken window in the pool house, but I don't think they tried to get into our actual home; otherwise, the alarm would have gone off."
"And your mom wasn't home, Jeanie asked?"
"No, then he would have shot them. Mark explained that my dads hardened because of his job.
"What do you mean, Jeanie asked?"
"Well, he works for the justice system, so he knows what's wrong with it like anyone in their field."
He doesn't believe that prison or jail is a punishment anymore. There is no rehabilitation, and he sees the same people going thru the system repeatedly. He is a staunch supporter of the Death Penalty. He's trying to petition the state to bring it back."
"Isn't that extreme, Jeanie asked?"
"For the average law-abiding citizen, yes. But for most people in the inner city -No. The inner-city mentality is that it's work anytime you get paid for something. Maybe not a legitimate job, but you're still getting paid for it. So, stealing, robbing, pimping, selling drugs, and killing are all legitimate jobs because they make money."
Mark saw Jeanie shaking her head. She did not agree.
"Ghetto violence is just a way of life. Do you remember that Gangster rap bullshit from the nineties, Mark asked?"
"Yes, Jeanie nodded."
"It did nothing but glorify killing, drinking 40s, and getting high for damn near that entire decade. No legitimate artist from the hood had street credibility until they went to prison first."
"Does your dad know who killed Tupac?" Jeanie asked.
"He did," and then Mark laughed.
"You'll understand why I won't be staying for dinner…."
"Look, all I know is that the worse your criminal record, the more CDs they sell. One thug even put his rap sheet on the back cover of his Cd."
"You believe that too, Jeanie asked?"
I don't know, I don't work in that field, he wants me to be a lawyer like him, but I see what it's done to him…."
"It would be frustrating to lock the same people up repeatedly. My father said they might as well put revolving doors in the jails and prisons the way the convicted are in and out of the system. The media use phrases like "parole Violations," but to the insiders, they are out there committing more crimes until they get arrested again."
"I guess it could be frustrating, Jeanie admitted, and depressing. I could never do his job."
"Every new prison that's built is immediately filled the same day. Society cannot afford to house, cloth, and feed people locked up for their entire life, only to be released after they are too old to be a danger to anyone anymore."
Jeanie signed.
"You want to hear something crazy, Mark asked?"
"I don't know, Jeanie replied."
"One of the kids even left his undergarments in our pool, Mark said."
"Ewwwww, Jeanie replied."
"Yea, the idiot was naked the entire time he was in the Pool, and my father wouldn't let him get dressed until the Police came, and then the Police wouldn't let him get dressed while they arrested him. They threw a blanket over him instead."
"Sounds like a lot of drama, Jeanie remarked."
"Oh yeah, but what are the odds? I mean, of all houses, it had to be ours. Mark shook his head.
"Why didn't they just swim in the lake? Isn't it right down the road? She asked."
"I guess they preferred our pool, Mark answered."
"Whatever happened to the undergarments, Jeanie asked?"
"I'm wearing them right now Mark said, pulling up his shorts so she could see his Joe-Boxers."
"Ewwwww, Jeanie replied."
"Well, my mom wanted to mail them back to the owner after she washed them, of course, but it's not like he wrote his name and address on the inside tag."
"Jeannie laughed, and her entire face lit up when she did. Her beauty was stunning. Mark was glad that he could make her laugh."
"That was so nice of your mom to think of them. I mean, considering the circumstances, Jeanie said."
"Yea, but in the end, the undergarments were confiscated by the police, so they could be used as evidence to prosecute the owner."
"I would have been horrified if they had been my underwear, Jeanie said."
"You don't like Joe-Boxers? Mark asked?"
"I would have denied they were mine, no matter what brand, she said."
"What about the police catching you on the premises?"
"I would have told them that those undergarments were floating in the pool when I got there, Jeanie said."
"And your explanation for being there in the first place."
"I would tell them I'm a sleepwalker, somnambulistic, a medical condition, and that I could not be held accountable for my actions, she said."
"You're good. Maybe you should be a lawyer, Mark complimented."
"Ewwwww, Jeanie said."
"Somnambulistic, Mark laughed. What is that Latin?"
"I'm just glad your mom wasn't there, Jeanie said."
"My dad would have shot them on sight, but if my mom were home alone, she would have baked them all their favorite cookies. Even after they raped her, Mark joked inappropriately."
"Mark, that's not funny, Jeanie said, and then she shivered, her nipples became erect from the cold breeze, and she crossed her arms for warmth, and then she sneezed."
You have allergies, he asked.
Yes, they're horrible.
"Mark removed his jacket and held it open for her."
"Thank You, Mark, Jeanie said, smiling, as she put her arms through the sleeves."
Mark inspected her massive cleavage over her shoulders.
No, thank you, Jeanie, Mark thought to himself.
Suddenly a large wasp appeared out of nowhere, circling Jeanie twice but avoiding Mark, who was waving it away. Jeanie dropped right in front of him and put her hands over her head for protection.
She was kneeling in a position in front of him and level with his waist, so she looked like she was in a position to give him a blow-job.
Mark instantly became erect. It was a little-known fact that flying insects are more attracted to redheads than any other hair color.
"Seems like you made a new friend, Mark said."
Jeanie froze like a statue; she was terrified of bees.
Mark noticed her distress, are you allergic to bees, he asked.
"I don't know Jeanie said fearfully. I've never been stung before.
Is he gone yet? She asked fearfully?"
The bee flew away and disappeared just like it had suddenly appeared.
"Yes, he's gone, Mark said, offering his hand to help her up."
Jeanie primped and adjusted her long red hair, which cascaded over her shoulders and flowed down the back of Marks's jean jacket.
Mark was reminded of that song by the Police, "Every little thing she does is Magic," the lead singer, "Sting," could have written that song for Jeanie.
Mark was glad that Jeanie decided to wear his jean jacket that was too big for her everywhere except on her chest. There might be other guys at the party store, it was a popular place, and Mark didn't want them staring at her endowment or making rude comments.
He was very jealous and possessive, even know he had just met her, he had already considered her his girl. She didn't know it yet.
"Thank-You Sir, she said.
"I'm just an old-fashioned guy who knows how to treat a woman like a lady, Mark said."
"Well, I'm a modern woman, but I can still appreciate the manners of a gentleman, Jeanie replied."
"Jeanie, I know this will sound weird, but I need your help."
"Oh no, I have money, she said."
"No, when we walk in the store, I have a friend I'm trying to impress. Would you pretend to be my girlfriend, Mark asked?"
"What, Jeanie replied?"
"The store owner is a friend of mine, and I need your help, Mark said."
"Oh, Mark, I would, but I just met you, and because I don't know anything about you, it could get uncomfortable…."
"If you play along, he interrupted, I'll buy you a double scoop of vanilla ice cream."
"Jeanie wasn't going to take his first offer, …with strawberry sprinkles, she countered?"
"Done, Mark settled, he offered his hand to shake, and Jeanie reluctantly shook it."
The Oasis was a party store owned by Assad, a second-generation American citizen of Arabian descent. He inherited the store from his father, who bought it in the seventies.
Assad was a short, balding, overweight, middle-aged man, who wore several thick gold chains, and a Hawaiian-styled shirt.
Mark thought Assad resembled a modern-day version of a disco-dressing pimp. A real throwback from the '70s, but for some reason, Assad could pull it off.
The Oasis was a party store that primarily sold liquor, but over the years, Assad had built it up to a first-class establishment.
It was a commercial building in a residential neighborhood and within a subdivision, but it was legal then, so his store was grandfathered in.
Assad would not be permitted to rebuild his store at another location or expand at his current one. But it could remain where it was, and the white community could do nothing about it.
Assad expanded it by adding extra freezers in the back, pizza ovens remodeling the deli counter, and flavored coffee machines to the existing soda fountains, including Frozen Slurpee's, Lottery Tickets, and the newest edition was hand-dipped ice cream.
But a party story in an upscale sub-division was considered as tacky as it was convenient, no matter how first-rate.
Some believed a commercial building had no business in a predominately white residential neighborhood, and neither did an Arab like Assad. Just because he had money didn't make him white. Being non-white was the second strike against him.
The white community surrounding Assad was always overly polite to his face, and they all went to his store because it was very covenant, as opposed to the nearest supermarket that was easily fifteen miles away.
Assad knew he would never be accepted as one of "them," the white establishment, and he knew they made fun of him behind his back—just another undesirable with money.
Some regarded him Assad no better than a low-life pimp, who could afford to golf at the most expensive resorts in the World, but every member would avoid him like the plague because his money was just as illegitimate as he was.
The other members of the subdivision would ask John if there was anything that could be done about the store. After all, he was an attorney; couldn't he fix this?
The home-owner's association, which John was a member of, could do nothing to overturn federal law, but being a big-shot attorney downtown who had political connections, this still made him look bad.
So, the same people who went to Assad's store, spent money, shook hands, and all smiles on his face were those who tried to change the zoning laws to have Assad ousted behind his back, which of course, was impossible.
Mark's father wouldn't even go to his store, and he didn't want Mark hanging around with him, except that Assad gave him a summer job.
He liked the fact that his son was willing to work. He used to work summers, so he thought it would be a good experience.
But Michigan was not California. It might have been known as a blue state, but not for its liberal views. Despite the inner city, the state still had a no-nonsense, work-hard, play-hard class mentality.
Arabic business owners were exempt from paying taxes (unlike every other hard-working, natural-born citizen) since the Jimmy Carter Administration secretly made them exempt from business taxes for seven years.
But worse than that, he could legally pass it on to a blood relative after seven years, which extended this loophole forever. The zoning changed soon after Assad's father had bought the store.
Also, the first-generation Arabic culture was alien to America, and they were not the most friendly or hospitable. They were very guarded and suspicious. Not the ideal trait(s) when dealing with the Public.
Yet despite all the racism, cultural differences, and language barriers, Dearborn, Michigan had acquired the second largest concentration of Arabs in the World, second only to the actual Middle Eastern countries they were native to, like Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, and even Pakistan.
But more than that, Assad tried very hard to be likable -unlike his father, Saeed. Assad was good at remembering names; if it were your birthday, he would give you a pack of cigarettes or a six-pack in the house.
Servicemen always got discounts, and he even refused to take their money if they were in uniform. He helped the elderly by carrying the heavier groceries to their cars. Assad had a real knack for making you like him when he wanted to.
As far as Assad was concerned, no matter what they thought of him behind his back, if bought his shit, that was the only thing that mattered.
Assad didn't care anymore for Mark's father, John. Then John cared for him. But he loved Mark. And Mark thought Assad was cool as ice, and God only knows why, but the two of them became the best of friends, despite their age, race, culture, and background.
For one thing, no matter how old Mark was, Assad never treated him like a child. Assad always treated Mark like he was more mature than his actual age.
For example, Assad would openly curse in front of Mark, and they would watch wrestling or the baseball game on TV, and Assad would even explain the finer points of the game, so Mark would know what was going on. Assad even promised today him to a game during the season's opener at Commercial Park if his dad would let him.
As Mark got older, Assad would tell him dirty jokes, make fun of the obnoxious white customers, and even let Mark flip thru all the girlie magazines he sold on the rack.
He even gave Mark one of his illegal Cuban cigars, and they both smoked together in the back.
But the absolute best was when Mark spotted Assad and four of his identical-looking brothers-in-law, drunk off their asses, celebrating a wedding, and loading four kegs of beer into the back of their expensive SUV.
They were also passing around a fifth of Jack Daniels and talking what sounded like gibberish behind the dumpster as Mark approached his store.
Riding his bike on his way home after a softball game, Mark surprised them all by suddenly popping out from the other side.
When they saw him, everybody froze, except Assad, who was not facing him, and as Mark came up from behind him, Assad turned around to see who it was, Mark looked at Assad and then his identical relatives and, with a confused look, asked the group, "Assad where did you go?"
Assad instantly translated what Mark said into Arabic, and everybody laughed hysterically.
Mark thought Assad had translated what he had said directly into Arabic, but Assad had given his interpretation, and it was more like, "Oh yea, and this is that crazy white mother-fucker I was telling you about, and then he handed Mark the bottle and put his arm around him."
Everyone was drunk off their ass, and Mark even had to help Assad keep his balance as everyone came up to kiss Mark on the cheek, which is how the family greeted each other in their culture.
The group introduced themselves in Arabic, while Assad roughly translated what for them. Assad had made Mark feel like family. Never had Mark felt so adult in his entire life, all thirteen years of it. After that, at least in Mark's eyes, Assad could do no wrong.
Mark even helped them load the two remaining kegs into each of their new SUV, and Assad invited Mark to come with them to the reception. Mark said he was coming home late from a game, and he only stopped to check on the store because he thought someone might be breaking into the back. Besides, he was probably in trouble as it was, and if his dad caught him coming in any later, he'd get a beating.
"Fifteen minutes, Assad said."
"I can't, Mark replied."
"I'll let you drive, Assad shrugged."
Assad was drunk off his ass, and Mark had to drive for him, besides he loved that SUV, and when Assad threw him the keys, that were all the coaxing Mark needed to hear.
He put his bike in the back of Assad's SUV and jumped in the driver's seat, and once inside, he slowly followed the other two Mercedes SUVs in front of him.
Assad was impressed at what a good driver Mark was, and Mark told him that his parents had a cabin up-north with a four-wheel jeep and that his dad let him drive in a circle around their property.
Once they were at the hall where the reception was being held, Mark followed Assad to his table; then, he was introduced to the bride and groom, which was a huge honor, and they made their way to the buffet line.
They ate together, and Mark was even served wine. Assad was filling Mark in on the back road of some of the more important people at the wedding.
After he ate, the band began to play, and Mark had drunk enough to walk to the center of the floor and dance with two extremely attractive Mediterranean girls who were several years older than himself. They were already on the dance floor, but that did stop him from getting in between the two of them.
Well before long, fifteen minutes turned into two hours, and it was way past midnight, Assad and his crew played cards in the back, and Mark sobered up enough to hug Assad from behind and told him he had to get home.
Assad looked at the clock and told him to stay and play poker with them since he was already in trouble anyway.
Assad said he would stake him and handed Mark a fist full of hundred-dollar bills. Mark had never seen so much money on one table in his life.
But Mark refused, shaking his head, "Obviously, you forgot about our gun trigger city prosecutor with a bad temper who would love to beat my underage ass for coming home drunk and embarrassing him publicly.
"Okay, just let me finish this hand, and then I'll drive you home, Assad said."
Unlike Mark, Assad had never stopped drinking,
"Assad, your drunker than I am, Mark said. You can't drive. You shouldn't even be walking."
Assad nodded his head like, you know you might have something there. Most times, Mark acted more responsibly than he did. "The car's open."
Mark kissed Assad on the cheek and said, "Hey, thank these guys for me. You throw a great party."
Assad laughed, waved him off, and spoke Arabic; everybody at the table cheered and waved goodbye as he left.
When Mark got home that night, he snuck upstairs by climbing up to his second-story bedroom from the outside without waking his parents, which was a miracle considering he even stumbled on his way to his bed. He didn't wake up until almost noon the next morning.
It was no secret that Assad sold some of the best all-natural hand-dipped ice creams in the county. So, Mark and Jeanie had come to the right place.
"What up, Assad, Mark said, giving him the peace sign sideways like some flaky hipster."
"Hey, what's up, Mark, Assad said, looking up from his newspaper, and then he did a double take when he saw Jeanie."
Assad had never seen Mark come into his store with a girl before. No, this was a woman.
"Hey, who's the princess, Assad asked as he stood up and walked towards them."
Then he eyed Jeanie up and down as if appraising a slave girl before a purchase. It was no secret that Assad loved white women, especially white girls with big tits and asses, not unlike the black man.
And Assad's appraisal was not distracted by Mark's friendship or Jeanie's age.
"This is my girlfriend Jeanie, Mark said; Jeanie, this is Assad, the coolest Arab this side of Mecca."
"Hi, Assad, Jeanie said shyly, and when she raised her hand to wave, the sleeve, which was too long, flapped."
"Girlfriend, Assad said doubtfully, I don't believe it!"
But it's true, Mark said, and then nudged Jeanie for validation,"
As if on cue, Jeanie immediately hugged Mark dramatically and raised one leg off the floor, bending it at the knee."
Assad laughed, "Whoa, when did all this happen, he asked?"
"Today, " Mark said, Jeanie is a new student who moved into our school last week. She lives next door, so I thought I would do the neighborly thing and show her around."
"And that makes her your girlfriend, Assad asked?"
"Hey, your country, we would have had to get married by now, Mark countered."
Now Assad and Jeanie both laughed.
Assad looked at Jeanie with a straight face and said, "Ms., if you are being held against your will, just blink with one eye, and then Assad started blinking to show her how.
Mark and Jeanie laughed.
"How can you not love this guy, Mark said, facing her?"
"If this girl has you, then you have my blessing, Assad conceded gracefully."
Jeanie could feel her face turning red, and she tried to hide her embarrassment by looking away. Assad noticed that when she was embarrassed, her face turned red, and the hidden freckles displayed like cinnamon specs on her flawless white skin.
"We would like two double scoops of vanilla ice cream, Mark said."
"Soft cone or Sugar, Assad asked?"
"Sugar, Mark said."
As Assad was leaving, Jeanie whispered in Mark's ear,
"Oh yea, and dip those in Strawberry Sprinkles, Mark said as an afterthought." Assad gave him the okay sign as Mark got out of his wallet.
After Assad handed him the cones, Mark handed Jeanie hers and asked him how much?"
"On the house, Assad said graciously."
"I don't think what to say, Mark replied."
"Say Yes, Assad said."
"And let me add a thank you as well, Mark replied."
"Even better, Assad said."
"Can we go in the back, Mark asked?"
"Yeah, sure, and then Assad addressing Jeanie, said, "Honey, don't let Mark make himself too comfortable back there."
Mark and Jeanie both laughed, and Jeanie promised him she wouldn't.
Assad returned to his stool behind the register, where his newspaper and a.m. radio broadcasted an Arabic news station. It was low but discernible. Mark took Jeanie by the hand and led her to the back, where the tables were.
This section was the store was normally closed off, but he always let Mark and some other regulars sit there whenever they wanted. Assad removed most of the tables because he was running out of room.
Sitting down gave Mark and Jeanie a chance to relax.
"How long have you known Assad? Jeanie asked."
"Well, he was here before my parents moved here, so ever since I was old enough to walk to the store by myself, Mark said.
"He's colorful. How did you two become friends? Jeanie asked."
"When I first moved here, I didn't know anybody, so I would just hang around the store. I bought comic books but didn't like how Assad crammed them in, so I started re-organizing them in the rack by popularity."
"Popularity, she asked?"
"Who I liked better, he said."
"Plus, he mixed the Marvel and D.C, which was just crazy. I had to separate them because they live in two separate universes."
"Only two?" she asked.
"Yea, it's like two separate universes, and one doesn't live in the other. There are cross-overs, but it's rare. Anyway, one-day Assad saw what I was doing, and I thought he was going to be mad, but when I explained what he was doing, I guess Assad liked the way I organized his stuff, so he offered me a job, Mark imitated Assad,
"Hey kid, if you wanted a job here, all you had to do was ask."
"Wow, Jeanie commented."
Yea, so I started work for him on weekends and after school. During the summertime, he would make us pizza for lunch, and we would watch "Batman, " the cartoon series.
"Really," Jeanie sounded amazed.
At the time, he had a small color television behind the counter. The series came on every day. At the same time, we both loved Batman, so I guess that's how it all started, Mark said."
"A grown man watching cartoons, Jeanie asked?"
"Not just a cartoon, Batman."
Jeanie rolled her eyes.
"One day, a customer came in the store, went in the back of one of the coolers, took something out but decided they didn't want it. Instead of putting it back, they just left it in the aisle.
About an hour later, Assad was cleaning up, singing happily as a lark, when suddenly he saw that sour ice cream melting all over his freshly mopped floor and went Ape-shit. Even from the back of the store, I could hear him cursing in two languages.
"What did he say, Jeanie, asked?"
"It wasn't what he said but how he said it. He was like an Arabian "Yosemite Sam," I had never laughed so hard.
"So, one time we had ice creme for dessert, Assad had to go wait on a customer, but instead of finishing mine, I pretended that I forgot to throw it away and left it out for him to find. Then I hid just out of sight by the back door."
"Why, Jeanie asked."
"Because clean-ups and messes are Assad's pet peeve, and I knew he would lose it when he saw that melted ice cream all over the floor again.
I just wanted to hear him do that voice again, and then Mark imitated Assad: "Blah, blah, white piece of shit, blah, blah, that motherfucker didn't look retarded, blah blah, and that's why I never had kids, his imitation was spot-on, and even Jeanie couldn't help laughing.
"What's his native language, Jeanie asked?"
"I don't think anybody knows for sure," Mark said, "half the time, I think Assad makes shit up."
"After all this time, you don't even know what country Assad is from, Jeanie asked?"
"I think we're at war with them, Mark whispered, so it's safer if we don't know, and then he winked at her.
Jeanie laughed.
"Anyway, as I got older, " Mark continued, " Assad started to curse more in English and less in Arabic."
"You're joking," she said.
"No, seriously."
"Why, she asked?"
"I guess he wanted to become more "Americanized," Mark said.
"I don't think Assad was setting a very good example for you, Jeanie replied."
"Who talking about me? I was the one correcting him."
"What do you mean correcting?" Jeanie asked.
"Sometimes, when Assad cursed in English, he would mispronounce a curse word, so I would help him pronounce it correctly."
"You helped Assad curse?" Jeanie asked unbelievingly.
"Well, I didn't want Assad making a fool of himself," he explained, and I knew that he was going to curse anyway, so I felt he should pronounce it correctly."
"I don't know, Mark. Your relationship with Assad sounds slightly
dysfunctional to me, Jeanie said."
"Only, Slightly, Mark repeated."
"Well, I was trying to be nice, Jeanie laughed."
"I would prefer to consider our relationship more "cathartic."
"How so, Jeanie asked?"
Mark paused to think; suddenly, he couldn't come up with an answer.
"Maybe your right, Mark considered. Assad still mispronounces his curse words, and I never feel better correcting him afterward."
Jeanie licked her ice cream cone with a comical expression.
"Thank You for playing along with Assad, " Mark said."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean the way I introduced you as my girlfriend, Mark said."
Mark didn't want to say anything bad about Assad, but sometimes he could come off as creepy, so he was trying to protect her.
"Well, I hope I was convincing, Jeanie said."
"It was very natural, Mark said."
Jeanie took another bite of her ice cream so she didn't have to respond.
"Maybe I should have warned before I bought you that ice cream cone because when a guy buys a girl an ice cream cone, they automatically become an item, he said."
"Item, what you mean item, like strawberry sprinkles as a topping on my ice cream?"
"No, more like a boyfriend and girlfriend item, and this is our first date, Mark corrected."
"Boyfriend and girlfriend, Jeanie looked confused. This is not a date!!! I don't remember you asking me out.
"We agreed on a common place to meet. Money was exchanged. You're even wearing my jacket now, Mark smiled."
"Here, you can have it back," she said, taking it off."
"It's too late. The ice creams be eaten, the deed is done."
"Deed, what deed? I didn't even kiss you," Jeanie defended.
"I think there's a statute in Michigan," Mark said.
"Yea, I'll believe that when I see it, she challenged.
"I'll ask my dad for proof. He's an attorney, you know."
"Yea, I heard a prosecutor with the city, Jeanie replied.
"You know him?" Marked teased.
"Only by reputation."
"I bet he'll know the statute from memory, Mark promised."
"Yea, well, I'm not from here, Jeanie replied.
"What state did you move from again?" Mark asked.
"Nebraska."
"Unbelievable!" Mark said, "Nebraska is the only state that shares Michigan's reciprocity for this ice cream law."
"What a happy coincidence," Jeanie said in a flat voice.
"Serendipity," he exclaimed.
"Easy boy, I think you've been eating your ice cream too fast, and the brain freeze is affecting your thinking."
"If it was just ice cream, you might have been okay, but the sprinkles made it binding."
"I think you've been hanging around your friend Assad too long," Jeanie replied.
"Mark laughed.
"Have you been to the beach yet?"
"No, not yet, Jeanie said."
"Can you swim, Mark asked.
"I'm okay until I can't feel the sand on the bottom. When I know the water is over my head, then I panic."
"That's common with girls, Mark replied."
"Really?" Jeanie asked.
"Oh yea, my moms like that too," Mark said.
"But you have a pool?" she asked.
"She doesn't swim in it."
"How deep is it?" Jeanie asked.
"I think eight feet at the deep end, Mark answered.
"Yikes, you won't catch me down there," Jeanie said.
"I know you're scared of the water, but it's only psychological," Mark explained that if you can swim in three feet of water, then you can swim in three hundred feet, or three thousand feet, "it all in your head."
"I know, I know, Jeanie agreed; she didn't want to argue about it, "I just didn't want you to think I was being silly."
"Nothing silly about drowning," he replied.
"You're a great swimmer, I bet," Jeanie said.
"I'm okay, but I don't like heights, not even those diving boards that the Olympians use.
"I'm not scared of heights," she said.
"Oh, no, any other fears?"
"No," Jeanie looked away to avoid his eyes.
"C'mon, I know you were hiding something," Mark said.
"Wasps and Bees," she said.
"Really, why are you allergic?" he asked.
"No, I don't think so."
"What then?" he asked.
"No, you'll laugh at me," Jeanie replied.
"I promise I won't," Mark said.
"Pinky Swear," Jeanie offered her pinky.
"Pinky Swear," and he wrapped his pinky around hers.
She still looked unconvinced.
"On my heart," Mark said, crossing it.
"They remind me of those flying monkeys from the "Wizard of Oz," Jeanie said.
"That's another "girl-fear," Mark replied.
"Flying bugs?" she asked.
"No, the flying monkeys," he replied. "But why those?"
"Because I thought they would try to steal me at night when I was sleeping," Jeanie said.
"How much do you weigh?"
"Never you mind," she shot back quickly. She was going to take another lick of her cone, but after Mark joked about her weight, she decided against it."
"Hey, your mom said a half hour. We'd better go, she reminded him."
"Okay," Mark said, "but I want to return to something you mentioned earlier -the pool. I never thought about it before, but maybe it is a little flashy having a swimming pool in our backyard when we live so close to the lake. I wonder how many other people in the neighborhood have swimming pools."
"We don't, Jeanie answered."
"Maybe I mentioned it because I was trying to impress you, Mark winked at her."
"The best way to impress me is just to be yourself, Jeanie said."
"No, believe me, that wouldn't impress you, Mark replied."
"You're doing okay so far, Jeanie said."
"Really?" Mark asked.
"You're just a little cocky," Jeanie replied.
"Maybe I just need the right girl to help straighten me out," Mark hinted.
"Any prospects yet?" Jeanie teased.
Mark started laughing. He was having such a good time with Jeanie, and it was so effortless, he was amazed."
"Well, there's this new girl at school, and she is drop-dead gorgeous, maybe the best-looking girl I've ever seen. I even got her phone number, Mark boasted."
"How did you pull that off, Jeanie asked?"
"Well, I could tell she was upset when the homeroom teacher made her stand in front of the class to introduce herself, so I hung back a little to check and ensure she was okay."
"That was very observant of you," Jeanie said, "and kind."
"Well, sometimes I can see what other people miss," Mark said.
"Only a person with a very high level of sensitivity could understand that Jeanie complimented."
Mark shrugged; he was trying to be casual.
"So, what will you do next?" Jeanie asked.
"I'm supposed to call her this Saturday around noonish, but maybe I'll play it cool and call her around one instead. That way, she won't think I'm too eager. Mark smiled.
"No-no, ever play with a woman's heart, play it safe, not cool, or otherwise she might think you're a jerk and be tempted to go out with another guy who asked her out instead."
"What other guy, Mark asked?"
"Another guy from another class, Jeanie replied."
Mark figured she was bluffing, but she was damn good at it.
"Well, I guess we'll just see on Saturday then won't we, Mark smiled."
Jeanie licked her ice-cream cone just suggestive enough to let Mark know that she was not bluffing; he had never seen a woman look so sensual in his life, she pretended not to notice his reaction, but she knew exactly the effect she was having on him. If he wanted to play games, Jeanie just upped the ante.
And then, as easily as she turned it on, she turned it off, glancing out the window and making some nonchalant comment on the weather.
Mark was stunned at how sensual Jeanie could take something so trivial, like eating an ice cream cone, and turn it into something that instantly gave him a rock-hard erection.
His jaw must have hit the floor because Jeanie pointed at the table when she glanced back. When Mark looked at what Jeanie was pointing at, he saw the small puddle of white crème that had melted from his cone.
Even though Assad had to air-condition, it always seemed warm inside his store, and you had to eat the ice cream fast before it melted from the heat.
How ironic that it looked like he had just "shot a load" after Jeanie's very subtle but potent performance.
Jeannie handed him some napkins from the dispenser on the table, but instead of absorbing the mess, they smeared the drippings around, making an even bigger mess."
"Jeanie, now look what you made me do, Mark said.
"What did I do?" Jeanie shook her head
"I'm going in the back to get a towel, Mark said.
"Do you want me to help?"
"No, you've done enough, Mark replied."
Jeanie laughed.
"Mark went in the back and found two hand towels hanging over the sink. He grabbed one of them but stopped at the swinging doors. He remembered Assad had a slot for a two-way mirror that he installed to spy on people he suspected of shoplifting, mainly high-school students.
Today he had security cameras, but he never removed the two-way mirrors. Mark moved some of the cardboard boxes that were stacked on top of each other.
They were blocking the tinted glass on one side and mirrored on the other. Now, he could study Jeanie without her knowing.
He read that you could learn more about a woman by observing her unnoticed for 30 seconds than you could otherwise over three years.
Jeanie had given up trying to clean the mess with the napkins and was now patiently waiting. She looked behind her to see if anyone else was coming.
Mark took her in; he couldn't believe how beautiful Jeanie was. He had already fallen in love with her just based on her looks. He could not let Jeanie know he had fallen for her; she had to say it first. Then he would call the shots and get control right from the start.
Otherwise, the next thing you know, he'd be holding her purse while she's looking at shoes.
Jeanie turned from the neon window and looked directly at the two-way mirror Mark was watching her from. He almost jumped out of his skin when her glance caught him off guard.
Then Jeanie smiled before she looked away again.
She knew that he was watching her.
No, that was impossible. How could she have known about the two-way mirrors?
But why would she have looked directly at him? Had she been able to see Mark thru the glass?
Impossible, and yet Mark still had that same unsettling feeling,
She knows!!!
After Mark restocked the boxes, he came out with the towel and looked at the small mirrored window behind him, but he could not see through it.
Jeanie turned from Assad's Neon store window as if she had been looking outside the entire time.
"What took you so long?" she asked.
"I had to find these," he said, holding up the towels.
After Mark cleaned up the mess, he went back to throw the towel in the sink and wash his hands.
Mark noticed a stack of empty transparent cups with matching lids nearby. Suddenly he had an idea.
When he came out a second time, Jeanie reminded him of the time again.
"Mark, it's getting late. Let's start heading back, Jeanie said."
"Yea, your right, Mark said, looking at the digital clock, on the wall, and then he offered Jeanie his hand to escort her out."
Before leaving the store, they waved and said their goodbyes to Assad. He was busy with customers but stopped long enough to wave back.
"Okay, thank you for coming in. I want to see you two again real soon thou."
Assad commented to the customer that they did make a very handsome couple.
Mark held on to Jeanie's hand almost the entire way back to his house, he loved how she felt, and if she had let him, he would never have let her go.
"Did the ice cream spoil your appetite, Jeanie asked?"
"No, by the way, my mom invited you for dinner. Why don't you stay?"
"I can't, Jeanie replied."
"Why not?"
"My parents, she said."
"What's the big deal?"
"Their strict Mark, that's all."
"If they see me holding hands with you right now, I would have me grounded this weekend."
"For holding hands?" he asked.
"They're old-fashioned, she replied.
"I don't want to wait until Saturday to see you again, Mark said.
"We have to take things slow, honey, Jeanie said.
Honey!!!
Jeanie was putting him off and turning him on at the same time.
"It's my heart that's beating fast, Mark said, trying to be clever.
Jeanie laughed.
"Hey, wait a minute, I just thought of something. We have a test on Friday, so why don't we study together."
"Uh, well, I can ask them. It's just that you're a guy, and they don't want me dating, Jeanie said, embarrassed, there over-protective.
"I'm only talking about studying together, not running you off to Vegas."
"I know, but if I came home with some guy after the first day of school, they would lose it, Jeanie said."
"Okay, I understand, Mark conceded; I just thought it might be easier for you to pass the test studying with a partner instead of by yourself, especially with you having to take it on Monday with the rest of us."
"Mark, I don't want you to think it's you because it's not, and my family life is very hard for me to talk about."
Jeanie looked like maybe she was ready to cry."
"No, no, I get it. I am no stranger to weird parents, remember my dad with the gun, but now that I think about it, Ms. Payne was acting a little strange herself, Mark said."
"What do you mean?" Jeanie asked.
"Do you remember earlier in class today when Ms. Payne asked me if I was paying attention when she knew I wasn't?"
"Yes, I remember Jeanie answered."
"Usually, when I bluff myself out of a bad situation, Ms. Payne lets me off the hook, but today for some reason, she was giving me a hard time. As if she wanted to embarrass me on purpose."
"Why would she?"
"Maybe, you, Mark said.
"Why me?" she asked.
"Maybe she sensed that I like you, and wanted to make me look bad."
"Why would she care? She's a teacher."
"I don't know, maybe because she's a redhead like you, jealous of the new girl. For all I know, she might have a crush on me.
"Mark, she's like forty years old," Jeanie replied.
"Students develop crushes on teachers. Maybe teachers develop crushes on students too."
"You know us, redheads! Maybe she was just being a bitch."
"I'm sorry, Jeanie, but redheads are known for being fickle, and Ms Payne is most certainly that."
"Maybe Redheads aren't for you then," Jeanie replied.
"No, I can handle redheads," he said, looking at Jeanie. "It was strange how she tried to put me on the spot a second time. That was out of character, even for her. I came up with that whole linking-pictures-with-names idea on the spot; she never told us that, but she got confused trying to remember, and that's when I made the crack about her shoes, I was trying to distract her."
"And all because she wanted to embarrass you?"
"Now you got it."
"I still would have said "No," Jeanie replied.
Mark laughed.
"Maybe she was planning to give the test on Monday," Jeanie said, "and your timing was just a coincidence."
"Okay, fine, but no teacher, not even Ms. Payne, would make a new student study for a test the same week she just moved here."
"Maybe she doesn't like me?" Jeanie said.
"She doesn't like me," Mark said.
"If she is so jealous, why didn't she stay behind instead of going to the teacher's lounge?"
"I told you, she likes to drink."
Jeanie shook her head, "I think you're just making something out of nothing."
"Like I said, sometimes I can see things others miss."
Mark got so involved in the conversation that he didn't realize they were almost back at his house.
"Okay, Mark, thank you for the ice cream," Jeanie said abruptly, "but we better say goodbye here…
"What?" Mark asked.
"I don't mean to be rude, but my parents probably wonder where I am."
"I don't understand," Mark said, "I can't even walk you home?"
"As I said, my parents are weird and embarrassing, so I don't want them to see me with a strange boy on my first day after school."
"Strange?"Mark repeated, pretending to be offended. "Who's strange?"
"I'm sorry," Jeanie apologized, "I meant unknown, as in strange to them."
"Look, Jeanie. I won't try to kiss you, okay?"
"Kiss me?" Jeanie asked, "What are you talking about?"
"The real reason you don't want me to walk you home is that you're afraid I'll try to kiss you, and you're too embarrassed to admit you've never kissed a guy before."
"What?" Jeanie asked.
Had this fool lost his mind, she thought to herself.
Mark had not forgotten how Jeanie licked the ice cream cone, but he was trying to throw her off-balance so he could change her mind about walking her home.
"You never kissed a guy before," he said, "so you don't know how to kiss.
Mark started making fish lips and puckering sounds.
When Jeanie saw his fish lips, he was hilarious.
"Ewwwww," she said, "No, that's not why, and I have so kissed before."
"Who?"
"My first kiss was in fourth grade," she pouted, "and with another boy who was in the sixth grade, and he was a very good teacher."
"Prove it, Mark said, wiping his mouth and moving in.
"No," she said, "I won't kiss some creepy boy I just met. Especially one with "fish lips."
Then Jeanie made a face like she was going to gag.
"Fish lips are the ones who need to be kissed the most," Mark said, and then he puckered again.
"Sorry, Charlie, if my parents saw me kissing you after my first day at this school, they would have me enrolled back in my old one tomorrow.
"Back to Oklahoma?" Mark said.
"No, Nebraska dummy."
"What's the difference? Mark said.
"None -as far as you're concerned because you're not getting me moved to either."
"How about if I walk you to your driveway but stay out of sight?"
"No, Jeanie said, taking off his jacket and handing it to him.
"Just so I know you got home safe, he said, "otherwise, I won't be able to sleep, and tonight's a school night."
"You'll be fine," Jeanie replied.
"But I bought you ice cream," Mark said.
"So?" Jeanie said, suddenly feeling guilty and crossing her arms defensively.
"Don't you remember the statute?"
"What statute?"
"The Vanilla Ice-Cream Statute," Mark said.
"Are you going to start with that bullshit again?"
"Kiss your mother with that mouth?"
Jeanie put her hand to her lips as if embarrassed, "I'm sorry, it's just that you're getting me all whipped up with that bogus ice cream talk."
"With sprinkles," Mark said.
"Whatever, Jeanie replied, "You're not going to break the law, are you?"
"I don't know what "law" you're talking about," she said, "but whatever it is, it's not valid in this state, any more than my previous one."
Jeanie was starting to lose her cool.
"Well, until you know or are certain," Mark said, "I demand you honor my eminent domain."
And then he walked past his house.
Jeanie had to run to catch up with him.
"Eminent Domain," she repeated, "what the hell are you talking about now?"
But Mark didn't bother to answer. He just started walking toward her house, even though he didn't exactly know where she lived.
"Mark, please don't do this, Jeanie begged.
The tone of her pleading was unintentionally sexy.
"I can't let you walk thru this sub-division alone," he said, "didn't I tell you how dangerous it's become?
They even want to make it a gated community."
"Believe me. I'm a lot safer -without you than I am with you."
"All you girls use the same lines," Mark said.
"What girls?" Jeanie asked curiously.
"Remember the jacket?" he said. "I'm old-fashioned. We shared ice cream, I shared my jacket, and now I feel responsible for you -like a girlfriend."
"Well, don't," Jeanie snapped.
"Just to your driveway," he asked.
"I said No, Mark."
Mark stopped walking and dropped to his knees; he begged her in the street. He would stop at nothing to get his way, even if it meant embarrassing her in front of the entire subdivision. Jeanie could not believe how childish he was acting.
God, he was adorable. No guy had ever been willing to do this before. She was so impressed -despite her embarrassment that she fell for him right there on the spot.
"Get up, you damn fool," Jeanie screamed, "you're embarrassing the shit out of me."
"I don't care," he said, "I'll stay here all day if I have to."
"Yes, you can; now, please get up."
After he did, he dusted off his jeans at the knees.
"Just to my driveway," she said, "and no tricks. I want you to promise me Mark Winters."
And then she pointed her finger at him. Now she even sounded like his girlfriend -or his mother.
"Yeah, no problem," he replied, taking her hand -without asking. Jeanie liked how he took control, how funny he was, and how comfortable she felt with him despite knowing him for only a few hours.
After they walked another block, Jeanie stopped short of their driveway and tried to get him to leave before they were even at her house.
"Okay," she said, "I'm home so you can go now."
"Hold-On their Cherry Bomb," he said, "the agreement was to the driveway."
"Don't you call me Cherry Bomb! Jeanie exploded, trying not to laugh by being angry.
Mark crept as much as he could, but Jeanie stopped him just short of her driveway. She wouldn't even let him walk on the concrete.
Her house was smaller than Mark's but just as nice.
"Beautiful house," he complimented.
"Thank you," she said, okay, you can go now."
And then she tried to shoo him away as if he were a pest.
Finally, Jeanie put out her hand so that he could shake it goodbye.
Mark stared at her hand like he was unfamiliar with the custom.
"Thank You for walking me home," she said, glancing back at her house. "That was nice of you, and I'll see you at school tomorrow."
Mark looked up at her, immediately dropping his smile, then stared at her chin.
"What are you looking at?" Jeanie asked.
"Don't move, Jeanie," Mark whispered.
"Why, Jeanie whispered back."
"Did you say you were allergic to Wasp's?"
"I don't know," Jeanie said, frightened.
"Shhh, don't talk," he said, "close your eyes, and don't move."
"What are you going to do?" Jeanie whispered.
Mark took out the plastic cup he took from the Oasis. He had it hidden in the front pocket of his hooded pullover. It was filled with sprinkles, he was going to surprise Jeanie at the driveway, but now he wanted to bait the wasp instead.
"I brought a plastic cup filled with sprinkles so you could have some with the ice cream -in your freezer. But now, I'm going to bait the wasp with it instead."
"No, Mark," she pleaded, "please don't."
Her eyes were still closed, but Mark could see tears starting to fall from them.
Jeanie stood frozen, waiting for him to tell her when it was safe. He quickly grabbed her waist, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her lips, shoving his hips into his.
He could feel her large soft breasts smother against his chest the thin fabric through her shirt. When Jeanie tried to squeal to protest, Mark shoved his tongue into her mouth to silence her, making quick strokes that tickled the roof of her mouth.
He wouldn't release her from his embrace even after she stopped fighting. He relaxed his hold on her just enough to let her know she wasn't going anywhere.
Once she accepted that there would be no escape, she stopped fighting and became weak in the knees. Jeanie went limp as if Mark was draining all the strength from her, and finally, he had to hold her up.
No one had ever kissed her with as much passion or intensity as Mark, and she was spellbound for the moment. Then Mark gently released his hold on her to gauge her reaction. Her nipples were rock hard, and her panties were soaking wet. When she opened her eyes, they had a mesmerized look, as if she was waking from a trance or going into one.
Jeanie gazed at Mark submissively, signaling to him with her eyes that she was ready to be taken.
Bedroom eyes.
The wasp had been completely forgotten as Jeanie sensed no immediate danger. Now her face was flush, and her body filled with passion; why was her heart condoning what he was doing when her head did not?
Mark was erected, and he made sure Jeanie felt it."
"I've wanted to do that all day," Mark said as he slowly pulled away.
"What about the wasp?" Jeanie asked in a dreamy voice.
"He left an hour ago," Mark said, smiling.
"What?" she said, now blinking, confused.
"My first kiss was in fourth grade, too," Mark replied.
Suddenly Jeanie came to her senses, and in an instant, her entire sleepy, sexual submission and arousal turned to anger. He had tricked her after he promised he wouldn't do anything stupid!
Not angry, furious might be a better word. She broke free from his grasp and had a rage in her eyes that changed them from an emerald green to a golden yellow.
"Mark Winters, did you just kiss me in front of my parent's house -and the entire neighborhood- after I specifically asked you not to?"
"Yes, I did, but…"
"But you tricked me," she said, "scared me, lied to me, and made a fool of me."
"Well, don't say it like that..."
"How else would you like me to say it? No, Mark, you're not an untrustworthy little pig who takes advantage of a girl's insecurities and tramples over her boundaries."
"I didn't want you to feel awkward during your first kiss."
"That wasn't my first kiss!"Jeanie screamed angrily.
Mark froze.
"Well, I just thought if my kiss were a surprise and completely unexpected, you wouldn't have time to feel awkward or embarrassed."
Jeanie was waiting for him to continue.
"And you were the best I ever had, baby."
"Don't call me your baby," Jeanie said in a lowered but intense voice.
"I couldn't help myself," he said.
"Then you never should have promised me," she replied.
"It's your fault, Mark said."
"My fault?" she said, "How is it my fault?
Then she put her hands on her hips, waiting for an explanation. She had a very sexy yet defiant posture.
"It's your fault for having those thick, pouty, kissable lips," Mark said, smiling.
"Do you have any idea what you just did?" Jeanie asked.
"Made you weak in the knees?" Mark said innocently.
Jeanie shook her head in frustration, "No, you have no idea."
"You don't like the way I kiss?" Mark asked.
He didn't understand. He wasn't one of them.
"I just wish you would have waited, that's all, Jeanie said, wiping her tears.
"I didn't mean any harm," Mark said honestly. He was starting to feel bad -maybe he had gone too far.
Jeanie looked scared to death, "I know, but you didn't respect my wishes."
"It was just a kiss, Jeanie Grants, he said."
"Jeanie Winters," she replied.
"What?" Mark asked, confused.
"You intentionally mispronounced my name in school and called me "Jeanie Winters."
She feared that was a premonition, that she would be his wife one day.
"You remembered that?" Mark asked.
"Of course, I remembered… but why did you say it?"
"The same reason you came to my house tonight," Mark replied.
He was just compelled.
The two of them just stared at each other, and to an onlooker, it seemed like they were trying to communicate a message with each other telepathically, a thought or emotion that could only be understood telepathically because to express it verbally would be impossible.
"Mark, this is my first day," she said, "and if my parents saw us, I'll be grounded for the next two months." Then Jeanie checked to see if anyone was watching her inside the house.
And you would never be allowed to come over again -and I just met you."
Mark just stood there, and for the first time -he was at a loss for words.
"Are you trying to ruin the rest of my life on purpose?" Jeanie asked, bewildered.
"No, we have a date on Saturday, Mark said, trying to lighten the mood."
"Oh no, we don't, Mr. Winters. I'm not going anywhere with you, not to the mall, not to the store, not to your Pool, not to the beach. I don't even want to sit next to you in class."
Mark tried not to smile. He stood there with his eyes partially closed, taking the brunt of her verbal assault, but still holding the cup for her in his hands the entire time.
She couldn't believe it.
He nodded that he understood her perfectly. Then she grabbed the cup from his hands.
"Nowhere," she screamed, "Fish lips!!!"
"Well, well, I guess it's true what they say about Ginger's and their fiery tempers," then Mark kicked a stone off her driveway."
"Oh, no, child," she warned, "you haven't seen my temper yet."
"Well, it's a good thing I can handle redheads then," he said with a cocky tone.
"I knew you were a lying creep the first time I looked at you, Mark Winters, but I didn't want to believe it. I wanted to give you a chance to prove me wrong. But I was such a fool. I should have never given you my number."
"You got off light with me just kissing you. I also wanted to grab that luscious ass of yours."
He thinks my ass is luscious, Jeanie thought to herself.
"I don't know how they do things in Michigan," she said "but in Nebraska, we have manners. And you're obviously not familiar with that word."
Then she glared at him, shaking her head, and double-timed it up her driveway, hoping she made it to the door before crying. The sprinkles in the half-filled cup bounced off the lid with her every step.
"I'll call you at noon," Mark reminded her, no longer worried about her anger.
"I won't be home," Jeanie yelled back, then lifted her head towards the heavens and screamed.
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