for a ride later. Sean gave them a ready smile that transformed his face, made him look like one of those Hollywood princes that girls dropped their panties for. And definitely, Sean had the offers. Sometimes he took them up on it, “par-taking of the freebies,” as Cal liked to put it. Mostly fun fucks, nothing serious, unless one counted Suzanne, the only one that Sean showed any kind of longevity with.
Sean trooped through the groupies to where Cal was waiting.
“Let’s see who’s here,” Sean said, already heading for the door. Cal eagerly followed behind. Although he was a year younger, he stood as tall as Sean, both of them towering over even some of the seniors at Milliard High. Wherever one of them went, the other was expected to be along. Like brothers.
Inside, the smell of marijuana was strong. Couples in some serious lip-locks littered the hallways and stairway. He and Sean nearly tripped over a pair that was lounging on the floor.
Sean looked around and Cal knew he was scoping for Suzanne. No wonder. The girl was a definite babe, with a mass of tangled curls all down her back. She also had a delicious set of nougats that Cal had on more than one occasion imagined sucking into oblivion. But in the mass of blonds and brunettes, there was no sign of a redhead anywhere. One particular blond detached herself from a pawing admirer and headed straight for Sean. She wobbled as she advanced; Cheryl never could hold her liquor well. She had a whole bottle in her hand and had probably already polished off half. She stepped to Sean with a silly grin, her lipstick smudged, her upper lip bruised, indicating she had already been at work.
“Seaaanniieee, heyyyy, so glad you coul’ make…it,” she hiccupped at Sean, then dropped her bottle and reached over greedy hands to attach to his shoulders, placing her stewed breath in his face. Cal could smell her standing right next to Sean, feeling patently ignored. Sean, with a half smile, backed up his face, being diplomatic. “Hey, Cheryl. Cal and me thought we’d check out the party.”
“Real party hasn’t started yet. Now that you here, we can get it going. C’mon,” she nodded to the stairs.
The straps of her small tee-shirt were half down her arms, giving a view of her moderately small but firm breasts. Cal thought he spotted a hickey on one of them.
She was raring to go. One of her hands felt its way down Sean’s stomach, attached itself to his package.
“Hey, let’s not go there, Cheryl, OK?”
Cheryl laughed. “Oh, c’mon. Suzie Q isn’t even here. And nobody’s gonna tell.” She turned to Cal. “You gonna tell, Cal, sweetie?”
“Who, me? Hell, naw,” Cal had offered with a smile, wishing to hell that Cheryl would give him such a reception, drunken or not. He sure as hell wouldn’t be turning her down. Which Sean was obviously doing, as he extracted himself from her grasp.
“Maybe some other time, Cheryl. I’m gonna grab me a beer or something. Got any eats around?”
Cheryl looked at him with disgust. “If that’s all you came for, you can take your ass back where you came from.”
Cal had cursed beneath his breath. He’d wanted to stay long enough to get some action going with someone. Why did Sean have to be a drag and piss Cheryl off? Anybody else would’ve taken her up on her invitation…no big deal.
He could see that Sean was angry. “Hey, you want me gone, that’s all you had to say. I’m outta here.”
And Sean had walked to the door, leaving Cal standing there, torn between loyalty and the pull of a good time. It wasn’t often he got to sneak out to a party. His mother wasn’t even home yet. Damn.
In the end, Cheryl decided for him.
“You can leave, too, Cal. Everybody knows you’re Sean’s right nut. Where he goes, you’re right there hanging.”
Cal didn’t know he had struck out until he saw a trickle of blood running from her nose. Goddamn! He’d slapped the shit out of her.
And it had felt good.
Next thing he knew, Sean had come back and was pulling at his arm. “C’mon, let’s get the fuck outta here.”
Sean dragged him through the curious bodies gathering around, rabid for a good fight. And both of them left, knowing it would be a long time before Cheryl would want to see either one of their faces around. Which was too bad. Because she threw some killer parties.
And yet, the next day at school, Cheryl had sidled up to Sean at his locker with a large smile, his rejection conveniently forgotten. Of course, she’d ignored Cal standing there.
It was always like that with the girls. There was nothing Sean could do to stay permanently on their shit list. All of them eager to get in his pants, to brag about their conquest.
All of them eager to smile in his face.
Calvin watched his mother as she sat watching Sean. Although she wasn’t smiling, the intensity of her look was the same as those on the faces of the girls who used to hang around Sean, hoping he would suddenly notice them. Cal rounded the table to see from an angle, to follow where his mother’s eyes held. At times, she seemed almost mesmerized by Sean’s eyes as he spoke of his mother and his years in Vancouver. He actually seemed animated as he told about how the winters got so cold there that tears actually froze on your face. His grandmother laughed but his mother remained silent, never pulling away from blue eyes that seemed to focus for uncomfortable lengths of time on her own. Cal felt a tenseness that belied the fact he no longer had a body. It was almost as though he felt the blood rushing to his face, his heart beating faster. If he could still feel it pounding, he would probably now be experiencing tremors as he watched his mother’s eyes move to Sean’s lips, linger there a fraction too long. If that weren’t bad enough, he looked from his mother to Sean and saw that Sean had noticed the direction of his mother’s focus before she could recall it quickly. Saw a quiet blush color his cheeks. Then he had the nerve to let his own eyes wander—to her lips. And unlike his mother’s nonexpression, Sean’s face read like a lurid novel. He let his eyes go farther down, just for a moment, to settle on her breasts.
Motherfucker. The word that had escaped him moments before thrummed in his head. If he didn’t stop this shit now, Sean would literally become a mother-fucker, fucking Cal’s mother right before his eyes. And worse still, Cal had a gnawing suspicion that his mother would let him.
The thought of the two of them fucking, their bodies pumping together, sweaty and heaving, stopped his breath. Or what passed for breath in his noncorporeal form. He actually felt the coldness of dread.
No, fuck, no! That wasn’t gonna happen. Not here, not ever.
Now he knew why he had not gone on to wherever dead folks go.
He was here to stop this unnatural thing that threatened everything he had ever known.
He rounded the table until he stood behind Sean. He stood there, concentrated with all his focus. Then reached out his hand.
And was rewarded when Sean jumped a little. Finally, contact.
Cal tried to do it again, to make Sean feel him. But this time, his hand only went through Sean’s shoulder, as insubstantial as it had been before.
Still, he was progressing, if slower than he wanted.
He
