Chapter 4: Girl with a Past
Eighth grade flew by, and Mark and Jeannie spent the in-between summer grades together almost every day.
Mark finally talked Jeanie into wearing a bikini for him providing they were alone at the beach. She agreed that no one else was there to watch her strip down, which seemed ridiculous, considering she was at the beach!
Only then would Jeanie remove her shorts and shirt; otherwise, all bets were off. Being seen in a bikini was one thing; taking her clothes off to reveal one was another. It was the "undressing" that always made Jeanie feel self-conscious.
The first-time Mark saw her in a bikini, his jaw hit the ground, and he thought his eyes would pop out of his head. Jeanie, in a one-piece, could still outshine other girls who wore bikinis because of her looks and figure. She wound up stealing the show without even competing.
Watching Jeanie remove her clothes to reveal herself was like unwrapping a Christmas Present.
One day, Mark brought a "Nerf" Frisbee specially made for the beach because it floated on the water. So, he and Jeanie could play "catch."
Mark couldn't aim it very well, as it was made of a plastic sponge, so he had a lousy aim, and even thou he didn't mean to, he kept throwing high, and Jeanie had to jump to catch it.
She had to keep adjusting her bikini cups to remain in them. She might have looked great, but he knew the weight of her breasts bouncing was painful, and he apologized each time afterward to let Jeanie know that he wasn't doing it on purpose.
Finally, Mark suggested that they move closer together so that they would have less of a problem.
Then Mark noticed a small motorized boat had crept up on them, silent running. Two guys had been watching them for some unknown time, and one even had a pair of binoculars. When Mark noticed what they were doing, he waddled towards Jeanie.
"C'mon, let's go in, he said."
Jeanie waded thru the water, which was waist-high for her. He said he didn't like them spying on her, and she agreed it was also uncomfortable. So, they both decided that they had enough sun for one day.
As they made their way inland, the two men in the boat started whistling and jeering. Mark turned around and saw that they were drinking from dark-colored bottles. Alcohol was illegal -even in a boat. They could be ticked, fined, or even arrested if caught.
Mark walked behind Jeanie to block their view as best he could. He didn't even want them glancing at her. Afterward, he could hear them cursing him because of it. Mark said when they were on land, "I'm sorry, Jeannie, I didn't even hear those creeps sneaking up on us."
"No, it's fine. The sun is starting to burn me," Jeanie replied.
As they dressed, the two drunks started up their boat and sputtered away, laughing and cursing.
The sand had gotten extremely hot with the sun blazing; even thou they had not been out that long. And they were still some 20 yards away from the towels where they set up as camp.
They had to put them there because of the tide.
The sand was not this hot when they left, but now it felt like hot coals. It was too far a distance for Jeanie to walk, Mark could take the heat, but he knew Jeanie couldn't, so he turned to her and said,
"Jeanie, I want you to get on my back so I can carry you to the towels."
"Oh no, Mark, I'm too heavy; I'll hurt you, Jeannie said."
"No, you won't, he turned around, lowered his knees, and ordered her to climb on. Mark felt Jeanie "mount" him from behind, and he hooked his hands under her knees, and she hooked her hands around his shoulders.
Jeanie was a little heavier than Mark figured, but he was determined to carry her safely to their little oasis.
Almost halfway there, Mark sounded like he was getting winded, and Jeanie asked him, "Mark, are you okay?
"Yes, he replied."
"Am I too heavy?" Jeanie asked."
"Quiet, Mark commanded."
Three-quarters of the way there, Jeanie asked again, "Mark, we're almost there. Would you put me down, please? I can walk the rest of the way?"
"Shut up, Mark snapped."
Jeanie turned her head, and Mark could feel her relax against him. She knew how stubborn he was and how determined he was to take her the rest of the way; nothing would change his mind.
Any questions require him to use more oxygen, which would harm him more than help him. Mark gently placed her down on the towels when they arrived at their base camp.
"There, you see…I told you…it wouldn't be…a problem, Mark said, huffing and puffing, trying to catch his breath."
Jeanie moved in and kissed him fully on the lips.
"Very good, Marky, she said; maybe one day I'll let you be my slave, Jeanie said."
He didn't know if she was teasing him or not. Then she laid back on her elbows, sleek and seductive, while Mark was still kneeling in front of her; they studied each other.
Jeanie waited until Mark caught his breath, and then she raised both her legs and placed each of her small feet in the middle of his chest.
Seductively she rubbed each of them up and down in a small circular motion from his chest to his stomach. Slow, meticulous, rhythmical.
She had that same hypnotic look after Mark kissed her that day they first met—Bedroom Eyes.
Mark scanned the beach; they were alone. Mark wanted to take her right here.
"Slave? Never, he said defiantly?"
"Why's that, Jeanie teased?"
"I'm not going to be manipulated by some spoiled, red-headed bitch who thinks she can get whatever she wants by simply shaking her ass."
"I can't, she asked?"
"Yea, you sound like a modern woman, he said."
"I'm more of a new-age girl, Jeanie corrected."
"Well, I'm still an old-fashioned guy, and I don't change; I don't know how you were raised-
"Very poorly, Jeanie finished."
"You look well-bred, thou, Mark replied."
"Thank You."
"If not well-mannered."
"I'll still take the compliment with the insult, Jeanie quipped."
"Bitter with the sweet?"
"Helps the medicine go down, she said."
"Jeanie, you never talk about your parents; why not?"
"Probably because I would have been better off raised by wolves," she said.
"What do you say that, Mark asked?"
"You met them, their weird; I'm just embarrassed by them, that's all, Jeanie said."
"Just because they don't like me is no reason to hate them, Mark replied."
"That's not it, Jeanie answered."
"Then tell me, Mark asked."
"They're not good parents Mark, that's it, Jeanie simplified."
"They seem okay to me, a little overprotective maybe, Mark said."
"Whatever, Jeanie said, wanting to change the subject."
"You're their only child, Jeanie; Marks said you can't blame them for wanting to protect you."
"Leave it alone, Mark, Jeanie cautioned."
"I'm an only child too; before I met you, sometimes I got lonely, and I wish I even had brothers and sisters, Mark asked."
"Not me, Jeanie said, wanting to cry."
"Not even around the holidays, Mark asked."
"No, Holidays are used to promote consumerism, Jeanie said."
"Consumerism, Mark asked?"
"Yea, you know, big families getting together over dinner, celebrating in harmony, buying each other expensive gifts to celebrate the holiday with."
"Oh yea, I forgot you don't celebrate Christmas, Mark said.
Jeanie remained quiet.
"Is consumerism wrong on the Holidays, he asked?"
"Can't buy me, love, Jeanie answered."
"My parents say that you are very mature for your age; in fact, they think you're a genius; Mark complimented her."
"I don't think so; I just had to grow up faster than most, that's all, Jeanie said."
"Because you're an Army Brat?" Mark asked.
"Right," Jeanie replied.
More silence between them.
"Are you religious?" Mark asked.
"No, I think spiritual might be more accurate," Jeanie replied.
"What are your beliefs about God?" Mark asked.
"I don't want to talk about God," Jeanie replied quickly.
"Okay," Mark said apologetically.
He had hit a nerve.
"Where's all this coming from anyway?" Jeanie asked.
"You have a symbol on the back of your neck, and you try to hide it.
"I think it's just a birthmark, and I'm just a little self-conscious about it."
"No, I don't think it's a birthmark," he disagreed, "it looks too perfect; where were you born with it?"
"I don't know; I had it since I was a child; it's difficult to see it being on the back of my neck."
Jeanie sounded like she was getting upset.
"You've never seen it yourself?" he asked.
"No, not in a long time," she said.
But Jeanie could feel it on the back of her neck; when she became sexually aroused or was in danger, it burned hot. It was a pentagram symbol in a circle about the size of a quarter."
"It looks like a five-pointed star," he said, "but it looks too perfect to be natural -more like a tattoo."
She looked away.
"You didn't have it done yourself?" Mark asked.
"No, how could I?"
"What about your parents?"
"No, they didn't do it either."
"Does it mean anything?" Mark asked.
"Nothing to me," Jeanie answered, "why are you making such a big deal about this?"
"I'm not," he said, "I was just curious."
"Mark, it's getting late; we should be going."
"You never wear your hair up," he said, "I thought you were trying to hide your "birthmark."
"I am a little self-conscious about it."
He studied her.
"You want me to?"
"Yes, I do," he confirmed.
"Why? Because Tiffany wears her hair up."
"Tiffany, who?" Mark, played dumb.
"You know damn well -Tiffany who, that slut Tiffany Tyler."
"Tiffany Tyler? Why would you bring her up?" he asked.
"Because I see her dropping a pencil whenever she knows you behind her. So she has an excuse to bend over in front of you. And lately, she has been wearing her hair up. So I feel it's only because of her that you want me too."
Mark had always preferred women to wear their hair up, and -even though he would never admit it- he did notice how good Tiffany looked since she had. He didn't want Tiffany but wanted Jeanie to wear her hair up like Tiffany.
"I can't believe you're jealous of Tiffany," he said, "she's not even in your league."
"It's not funny, Mark," Jeanie said.
"Oh yes, it is."
"That fucking bitch is asking for it," Jeanie said, holding her hands like panthers' claws.
Mark laughed even harder.
Jeanie wanted to stay mad, but she couldn't; he had that look -love, and amusement- in his eyes.
Silly Girl.
"You don't think she's prettier than me?" Jeanie asked shyly.
"No," he said, "she's not half as good-looking as you are, and your body is way better than hers."
"But her legs are longer than mine," Jeanie said, "she's taller."
"That doesn't make her more attractive," he said, "I don't like tall girls."
"But she's blond and very pretty," Jeanie continued.
"She's pretty," he admitted, "but she's also bitchy. She's not even a natural blond and has to wear a ton of make-up -you don't because you're a natural beauty."
"Thank You," Jeanie blushed; Mark always knew what to say to make Jeanie feel better about her insecurities."
"Why is she so popular with all the guys?" Jeanie asked.
Mark thought back to the first blow-job Tiffany had giving him.
"Not with me," he said.
"I just don't understand how such a bitch like Tiffany can be so popular."
"She's popular for all the wrong reasons," Mark said.
"She's disgusting," Jeanie said, "I didn't want to wear my hair up in that style because I thought you only wanted me to because you thought it looked cute on her."
"That's why women will never rule the world," Mark replied.
Jeanie laughed.
"Now, will you wear your hair up for me?"
"No, I tried it before, and I look like "Pebbles," from that "Pebbles and Bam-Bam Show," but when they were teenagers."
"You do look like "Pebbles the Teenager," and that's why I want you to do it."
"I'm serious, Mark."
"So am I, Jeanie," he replied.
"You want me to stick a bone in it too?"
"Pull it up first," he asked, "so I can see for myself."
Jeanie pulled her hair up with her hands, which unintentionally pushed up her extremely large breasts. The effect mesmerized Mark, and Jeanie saw his mouth open and his eyes light up as he nodded vacantly.
Men, Jeanie thought, and then she let her hair go.
"You have a beautiful face with cinnamon freckles splattered all over your body -but especially on that big ass or yours."
"What?" Jeanie was horrified."
"The freckles have concentrated all over your ass," he said matter-of-factly.
"It is gross, Mark?" she begged him to say "No" with her eyes.
"I love it," he said, "so if I ever get tired of hearing you complain about it, I can always distract myself by playing connect-the-dots on it."
"Your disgusting," Jeanie replied, but she was trying not to laugh.
"I love your big ass," he said.
"I'm on a diet," she said, trying to defend herself.
"Don't bother," he said.
"Well, Tiffany has a big ass, too!"
"Yea, but she doesn't have the freckles."
"How would you know?" Jeanie asked.
"She's not a redhead," Mark said, "only redheads have freckles."
"That's not true, Jeanie replied."
"Well, I didn't see any on hers last night when I fucked her!"
Jeanie glared at him.
"Are you sure they weren't sores?" Jeanie shot back.
Mark laughed.
"I never got that close," he said.
There was another silence, then Jeanie looked at him. Mark had been patient with her. She hadn't given in, but now they were going into high school, and that's what girlfriends were for -sex."
"Look, I'm sorry for snapping at you," she said.
"Premenstrual?" he asked.
"No, I was upset about Tiffany."
Mark sat back, "Sometimes I wonder; you seem so guarded; you only let me get so close and then..."
"Look, Mark, if this is about sex..."
"Then we can never talk about it," he finished.
"I didn't say that."
"What can we talk about that doesn't finish in a fight?" he asked.
"Oh, I see, so you're hinting that if I don't have sex with you -Tiffany will, is that it?"
Jeanie sat up, fearing his response.
"This isn't about Tiffany," he said; this is about us; I don't want her; I want you."
"Mark, I didn't want to do this here, but I've been thinking about us for a long time, and maybe it wasn't fair for us to have gotten involved so fast."
"What are you saying, Jeanie?"
Now he sat up as well.
"I think we need a break -from each other.
"A break?" he repeated.
"Yes," she said, "I'm sorry," and she was trying not to cry.
"You want to break up with me because I want to have sex with you?"
"Mark, please, this is difficult enough."
"I want to hear you say it."
"Mark, earlier, you joked that you would never be my slave…."
"I wouldn't be," he interrupted.
"Right, because I won't let you," she replied.
"What the hell are you talking about, you crazy bitch?"
"Mark, do you remember the first day we met?"
"Yes, I do," he mocked.
"I was afraid that you would hate me if I refused to give you my number. And I didn't want to make an enemy my first day…."
"Pathetic," Mark interrupted.
"What's pathetic?" Jeanie asked.
"Your attempt to break up with me and make me think it was my fault."
"No, Mark, that's not it. I felt pressured, that's all; I knew you would try to manipulate me into having sex. So instead of being hateful or resentful because you think you're missing out on something, I would rather you go out and do it with some other girl."
"Like Tiffany?" he said.
Jeanie winced.
I would rather have you break up with me than cheat on me behind my back because I'm not ready."
"That's noble of you, Jeanie, especially considering how you feel about Tiffany."
"I am a strong woman," she said, "and my principles will not be compromised; I avoided this conversation for far too long, but maybe I was wrong, And it's not fair to you. I don't know anymore; I'm so confused, I don't know what to say or think anymore."
"At least tell me the real reason you want to break up with me first?" he asked.
"That is the real reason," she said.
"Fucking Liar!" he yelled.
"Don't yell at me," she warned.
"Fucking liar," he repeated in a normal tone.
"Okay," she said, "if you're so good at seeing what other people miss, you tell me then."
"You're good at exposing the truth regarding everyone else," he said, "but you just use that perception to divert the attention away from yourself."
"Maybe I discovered that we were not right for each other?"
"Based on what?" Mark raised his voice again.
Jeanie flinched.
"Based on a kiss," Jeanie broke down completely and cried miserably. She turned away from him.
"What kiss?" he asked, "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"You won't understand," Jeanie said, frustrated and shaking her head.
"Then why don't you translate it for me from your Book of Wicca," Mark asked.
"Wicca, what are you talking about?" Jeanie asked.
"You and your little black book of spells," he said, "you cast one, and now you feel guilty. But you're just too ashamed to admit the real reason you're breaking up with me."
"What do you know?" Jeanie asked, terrified.
"That you practice witchcraft," Mark asked.
"Who told you that -Tiffany?"
"Tiffany has nothing to do with this," he said.
"She calls me a witch, and that's why you accuse me so."
"Seems to me like she has an instinct for people."
"Oh, you favor her, do you?" Jeanie asked.
"At least she's not afraid to fight for what she wants," Mark said.
"I know you were with her," Jeanie replied, "and that's why I hate her."
"You know everyone's dirty little secrets, don't you?"
"I'm just trying to protect you," Jeanie said.
"Protect me from what?"
"From me," Jeanie wept again.
"I'll make it easy for you then," he said, "if you can swear, by your God, or Devil, whatever the fuck you worship -that you don't love me, I'll leave and never bother you again."
"Fool, it's because I do love you that I'm trying to break up with you."
Then she tried to get up, but Mark wouldn't let her.
He picked her up and put her in his lap.
"Stop running from me, you little bitch."
"It's not real love, Mark," Jeanie said, "it's conjured."
"Don't tell me what I feel," Mark said, "I know what's real and what isn't."
"You activated the spell," she replied, "the illusion after that stolen kiss."
"Spell, what spell?" Mark asked.
"On the driveway, remember?"
He shook his head.
"The wasp you tricked me with," she explained.
"Your first kiss," he said, "yea, I remember."
"That was not my first kiss," Jeanie interrupted him, "you idiot!"
"Your just mad cuz I tricked you so easily," Mark reminisced.
"Yes, I mean No…."
"Okay, wait, you want me to believe that my kiss activated a love spell -like in a fairy tale, Sleeping Beauty, who woke up after a hundred years."
"It wasn't a hundred years...." she said.
"How do you know if you've never been kissed before?"
"Fairy tales are based on Wicca rituals," she explained, "and not the other way around, so you don't even know what the hell you're talking about."
You talk like a woman in love," he said, "crazy with lust one second, then trying to pawn me off on your enemy the next..."
"No," Jeanie said. She was confused and crying but trying not to laugh, and all these emotions were overlapping and building momentum.
"Right, Jeanie laughed and then immediately started crying again, "I begged you not to follow me back to my house because I knew you were going to do something stupid."
"Stupid," he repeated, "why was that stupid?"
"It's not your fault," she said, "I should never have knocked on your door that day. I hesitated momentarily when I saw your last name on the mailbox; now I'm sorry I didn't leave. I was just so desperate to get out and make friends. I didn't want to be alone anymore."
"It's not your fault, either," he said.
"It was a mistake to involve you," she said, "but I just couldn't help myself. I was so scared. I didn't want to go to the store by myself."
"Jeanie, I'm the one who approached you after class and not the other way around -remember?"
"It doesn't matter," Jeanie said.
"Yes, it does," he said, "if I never asked you for your number, then you would never have known my last name."
"No, I waited after class on purpose. I baited you."
"Baited me?"
"Yes, you reminded me of someone else when I saw you—someone from my old school. You were so handsome; I tried not to even look at you; I was so embarrassed."
"Jeanie, I wanted you too," he said, "but it was because of your tits!"
Normally she would have been mad, but she nodded instead.
"They're not mine," Jeanie replied.
"They're fake," he asked, "is that why you never want me to touch them?"
That was Mark, a genius one second and a fool the next.
The wind picked up, blowing his hair in the other direction.
"No idiot," she waved her hand through his hair and tried to straighten it back.
"Why?" she asked, suddenly, "do they look fake?"
And then she swayed to watch them bounce. When she was satisfied, she looked up at Mark again.
"No, they don't look fake."
"I wish they were," she said sadly.
"Why?" he asked.
"I was never meant to have them," she said.
"That's how I knew you practiced Wicca," Mark replied.
"What?" she asked.
Jeanie jumped off his lap to study him.
"Do you also remember that first day in eighth grade when you asked me what distracted me?"
"Yes," Jeanie answered."
"I had a "vision" about you," he said, "and in my thoughts, I saw you in a circle of women; but you were in the middle. It looked like you were on trial for something."
Jeanie closed her eyes. Oh God, Mark, please don't say another word.
"Something you did for breaking one of their rules. You performed a spell or something. And they were deciding whether or not you could stay.
She nodded, "I was banished.
"Because something went very wrong," he said.
Jeanie held her breath; she thought maybe she would be hysterical. She wanted to pass out, lose consciousness, whatever it took to escape.
"And someone else got hurt because of it -No, not hurt, they died."
Mark saw Jeanie, and she looked like she was going to faint. ;
"But it was an accident," he said, "I mean, you never meant to hurt that other girl. You're not mean-spirited; you were desperate to be loved."
Jeanie put her hand next to her mouth to cover it -she might scream. Her eyes were closed, and she tried to open them, but the salt kept stinging them shut. It felt to Jeanie like her eyes would never stop burning.
"How long have you known?" Jeanie whispered hoarsely.
Now her stomach was queasy, like she was going to be sick.
"Ever since you sat next to me in class that first day, "Mark answered, "so when I told you -you had me distracted, I meant it.
Now the images of Janice, her former superior, came back to her, and the curse she bestowed was remembered:
"Jeanie, the product of your womb will be rotten; no man will ever love thee unless your crime of passion is revealed to you by your one true-est.
If a man is ever to exist, you will not be able to recognize him; only after he reveals your crimes shall he be known."
"You're the one," Jeanie said, amazed, confused, and horrified, but most of all relieved, all simultaneously."
Mark looked at her; he was embarrassed too. He told her about her past, how a man might tell a new lover that he had a small penis before they undressed to make love.
"You just fulfilled the prophecy," she said.
"Prophecy, what prophecy?" Mark asked, confused.
"My soul mate would reveal himself to me by exposing my sin," Jeanie said, "that's you, Mark, because… you just did."
She had a silly smile; Jeanie seemed dazed and very confused. She was beautiful and vulnerable. Mark had seen that look on her face before and remembered it every time he masturbated.
"I'm sorry, I called you a witch Jeanie, but I wanted you to tell me the truth. I had to hear you say it, or I would never have been able to let you go."
"I was trying to break up with you because I felt like I tricked you into falling in love with me ...and after what happened in the past...I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you."
Mark went in to hug her, and she held him tightly.
Jeanie was sobbing almost hysterically again, but this time the sound was different; it had the sound of someone who had found some solace or relief after a very long time.
Jeanie, I don't understand your religion, but maybe it's best if we do not keep secrets. It will help if you share your beliefs with me, no matter how painful. Otherwise, we are going to keep having misunderstandings. I don't understand your religion, but I will try. You kept this from me for so long and now look at us, fighting and ready to break up.
"How could I tell you when I was so ashamed? I thought you would hate me; how could you love a woman like me?"
"No," he said, "I can never hate you, and I made up my mind to love you the very first moment I saw you, and that's why I kissed you because I already knew you were my soulmate. And I didn't need any magic spell to convince me either."
"You found me, Mark. I never thought it possible."
"I just wish you would have believed me before I told you about my vision,"
"How could I? There was no way for you to confirm yourself to me otherwise."
"Jeanie, I never told anybody about my "visions," not even my parents; I was afraid that if I did, they would take me to a shrink, and everybody would think I was crazy."
"You're not, love," Jeanie whispered.
"My mother is bipolar," he said, "Do you know what that means?"
"I've heard of it," she said.
"I don't think there's anything wrong with her, but my dad keeps her medicated to control her. He would have me medicated or locked up if I ever told him about my visions. So promise me you will never tell anyone about them."
"I promise," she said.
"That's why I try to act perfect -in everything I do. It's because of my father; that's how I was raised."
"You never have to be perfect with me," Jeanie said.
"I had another vision," he said, " I need you to promise me something."
"Yes, what?" she asked.
"Promise me that you'll never let them lock me up," he said seriously, turning pale white.
"I promise," she said.
"If you have any powers use them to save me," he begged her.
"With my very life," she confirmed.
"I can't live without you," he said.
"Nor, I without you," she replied.
Both were exhausted, "We covered so much ground today," he said, "can we stop and rest now?"
She nodded and raised her head, the sky had gotten dark, but Jeanie felt like she was glowing. She didn't need the sun; she had Mark.
It was past her curfew, and she would probably be in trouble, but even that would have to wait.
Mark helped her up, and they collected their things. On the walk home, holding hands, Jeanie said, "Mark, I know you don't believe in what I believe in, so I do not expect you to understand. But you have astounded me with your revelation today. Like me, you have a gift; all I'm trying to do with my religion is cultivate it. I would never ask you to join me, but you are a natural."
"Me become a witch?" he laughed.
"The males are called warlocks," she corrected.
"I doubt it," he laughed.
Jeanie laughed too.
Maybe he would never take that leap, but at least Jeanie could be herself in front of him, and Mark could finally see the same love in her eyes that he had for her in his.
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