Alexander laughed as he sat at the table next to me and plunged a spoon into his cereal. He looked quite tired since he’d sneaked out the night before and had wandered in around sunrise smelling like he’d been dunked in a tank of ale. “We’ve taken her to all the caves and the falls as well. I left Ollie alone with her to take her to the more romantic, secret bits.”
“Well, that was nice of you, Xan, wasn't it?” Ana yanked a pot off the stove just as it began to boil over. “So, Oliver, you took her to see the falls? What did you think, Silvia?”
“Wales is lovely, Ma’am.”
She smiled at me and nodded, delighted with my approval as she returned to the stove.
“Yeah, we’ve done all that, Mum. Since you won’t let us go to London, we were thinking about going into town next,” Oliver sounded completely serious. “And seeing what we could do to get ourselves kicked out of someplace.”
She nodded, but didn't look at her son, “Oh, aye! That’ll be a good time! That’ll take the two of you about a quarter hour! Poor Silvia being led about Welshpool by the sinister likes of you!”
Both of the boys laughed.
“Don’t let her fool you. Mum’s a right naughty one!” Oliver told me.
“Naughty-ish,” Ana corrected, turning to us and setting her hands on her hips, “I have ideas, but no inclination to carry them out.”
“Oh, Mum taught us all we knew, originally,” Alexander said proudly. He stood and walked to her where he wrapped his arm around his mother’s shoulder. Oliver followed suit, “She didn’t mean to, it just sort of slipped. The rest we invented!”
“Mum’s younger brother taught us about soaping windows and creative uses for rotten fruit. He gives Mum full credit for showing him,” Oliver kissed the side of her head, “She tries to tell us she was not a troublemaker in her day, but we don’t believe her.”
“Not at all!” She protested, “I was an angel!”
“Like us!” The boys put their faces together and fluttered their eyelids. “Angels!”
“Yes, angels! That’s why your father has you off at boarding school all year and working full time in the summer! Because you’re angels!”
“Dad just can’t take a joke,” Oliver explained.
Their father was different. He was warm and friendly, too, but he had a temper that rivalled Alex’s and he frequently lost it on the boys. Oliver had not been kidding. Edmond came home and usually within a few seconds was shouting.
“ALEXANDER! OLIVER! COME DOWN HERE NOW!” He waited for them at the bottom of the stairs as he removed his jacket and shoes.
They came down the steps with their best innocent faces.
“Which one of you exchanged my hard boiled eggs for non-boiled ones in my lunch today?” He asked as if he weren’t even slightly upset, but his face was red, “It was quite a surprise when I went to crack the one in front of my supervisor at lunch and it was RAW!” He began to shout, “IT MADE A MESS ON EVERYTHING!”
“Blimey, Dad! No idea!” Alexander looked at Oliver, “I never did that! I’d never do that! Did you do it?”
Oliver’s eyes were wide, “No! Why would I do such a thing? Dad, you simply must have grabbed the wrong eggs in your rush this morning!”
“What a terrible mistake!” Alexander interjected. “Grabbing the wrong eggs! Bugger! What a bother that must have been!”
“You really do need to be more careful, Dad,” Oliver finished.
“You two are the wrong eggs,” Edmond muttered, “I should have been more careful when we were conceiving you is what I should have been! When do you go back to school?”
“Not soon enough for you!” They replied in unison.
“Go away,” He mumbled.
He was, however, always nice to me. He came into the kitchen where I was sitting with his wife, kissed her, and smiled broadly at me, “Good evening, Silvia!” He placed a hand on my shoulder, “How are you, Sweetheart? I trust my sons are treating you, at least, with kindness and respect?”
“They are, Sir.” I smiled at him. He really was very handsome and I genuinely liked him. He always made me feel welcome in his presence, even when he was ready to murder his two sons.
“I’ve told you to not call me Sir!” He laughed, and patted my back, “Please! The only people required to call me Sir are that set of toxic demons when they’re in trouble! Call me Ed!”
It seemed an odd thing calling him Ed. I liked it much better later when it was comfortable to call him Dad.
“Alexander! Oliver!” He shouted again, but this time with much less force, “Get down here NOW for supper and bring the playing cards!”
And that was how I learned to play my card games, sitting around the kitchen table with the Dickinson's almost every night over Easter break. It was warm and brilliant at their house. What a magnificently normal family they were! I'd never seen a normal family up close and in action. I loved every single second of it.
When their parents would go to bed, Alexander would immediately make a phone call to see if there was anything worth sneaking off to with his friends. There was usually a do somewhere.
“Dad’s snoring.” He’d come down the steps with his jacket slung over his shoulder, “I’m off. You two sure you don’t want to go with me?”
“No,” Oliver put his arm around me, “We’re good, Brawd.”
“All right then. See you later!”
This left Oliver and I alone in the front room to do as we pleased, which added up to shamelessly groping each other on the sofa. We never had that much privacy at Bennington, not enough to do much more than getting off occasionally in the common room or on the quad and it was only on the second night before we were taking it too far.
“What about your parents?” I glanced at the doorway when things started to get too hot.
“Oh, they never get up this late,” He mumbled.
I loved what we were doing, but there was an anxiety building. I was getting this feeling, this deep feeling of wanting. I was feeling like if I didn’t have more of him I would starve or suffocate and even die. Our clothes were peeling away, being pushed up and tugged down. There we were, tangled together, skin on skin, shoving sofa cushions in all directions beneath us as we moved against each other. With every breath I was being drawn deeper into him and becoming more and more frightened. I kept looking toward the doorway. His hands were moving over my skin, running the length of the flesh under my skirt, up my belly and across my breasts. My shirt was open, his was off. I felt so weak I thought I’d lose control. But I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to be closer to him still. I wanted to be part of him and have him be part of me. I wanted him to know how much I loved him.
He was crushing me, pressing me down. I was so afraid.
“Oliver,” I whispered, “Please wait…please…”
He yanked his hands off and sat up suddenly, falling away from me, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“No, don’t be,” I pulled myself out from between the couch cushions. I could feel how red my face and neck were. I was hot all over my body, ready to break into a sweat. Oliver slowly slid off the sofa and sat on the floor. He pulled his hand through his hair and looked away, “You didn’t do anything wrong or anything,” I assured him, smoothing down my skirt. I readjusted my bra and closed my blouse, “I liked it really. It’s just that I’ve never …”
“Gotten off on a sofa in the middle of the night at your boyfriend’s parent’s house?” He tuned to me quickly with a look in his eye I couldn't quite label. I wasn't sure if he were upset or about to laugh.
“Well…no, I haven’t.” I looked down as I buttoned my shirt.
“If you want the truth, I’ve never either. Of course, I’ve never had a boyfriend to try it with.” He had such a way of putting me at ease with humour. He grinned at me and I melted, “No, really, though. I never have. Not even with a girl.”
“Really?”
“Truly. Not like we just were anyway.” He turned hi
s t-shirt right side out and slipped it over his head. He didn’t notice that he’d put it on backwards.
“But I thought…you know you’re so popular with the girls. I just figured you’d have...”
“Don’t confuse me with Alexander when it comes to that, Sil.” Oliver lifted his drink from the coffee table and took a large gulp, “That’s his department, not mine.”
“So you’ve never?” I pulled myself up and righted the cushions.
“Oh, I had a chance or two. That Vivian we joke about, she was a bit—er—adventurous.”
“She wanted to commit twincest?”
He grinned again, but this time he blushed, “Yes, she did. But I didn’t. I found it repulsive, passing a girl back and forth between us like a hot towel. Alexander agreed, which kind of surprised me. He’s odd like that, though. You’d think he’s a dog, but he’s actually got some decency in there someplace. He’s really not so much of a pervert as everybody thinks. Anyway, it’s why we make fun of her. She was bizarre really.”
“You’re the first boy I’ve even kissed.” I told him as I buttoned my shirt.
“No way!” He really did not seem to believe me. “You’re way too pretty to have never been kissed before me.”
“It’s the truth! I went to an all-girl’s boarding school. It wasn’t like I was snogging the caretaker. He was the only male there.”
Oliver was quiet for a moment, “I’ll tell you the truth, even if you think I’m lame. I’ve only ever kissed a girl and that’s it. One girl before you and it wasn’t anything like I kiss you. I didn’t like kissing her. We kept knocking teeth. It was like we couldn’t get it right.”
I giggled, feeling a bit more relaxed, “How awful!”
“It was! After a couple of goes it made me think of two horses snogging. That visual killed any romantic feeling, lemme tell you!” He paused and gave me a thoughtful look, “Xan, he’s done it. Loads, actually. Most of the rumours about him are true. I’ve had offers, but I couldn’t go through with it.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know. Like I said, I’ve had offers,” Oliver got on his knees and leaned toward me, “I could’ve anytime I wanted, but something’s always stopped me. I think it’s…well, I know what it is. I don’t like the idea of getting that close to someone who’s not special to me,” He shuddered, “Or especially with someone who gets on with loads of blokes. It makes my skin crawl, honestly.”
“Me, too.” I said quietly and then added, “I’m sorry.”
“What for? For telling me I was going out of bounds? Don’t be.” He took my hand and kissed my knuckles.
“Right. But I don’t want you to think that I don’t want to, either. I do. I’m just scared. Plus, we don’t have any protection or anything.”
“Oh, we do. It’s in Alex’s room. But I didn’t get any because I didn’t think we’d need it. I didn’t think things would go that far.”
I was honestly embarrassed, “Please, I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be angry with me.”
“Silvia,” He was extremely serious. He looked straight into my eyes and searched them before he spoke, “It would take a lot more than you asking me to respect you to upset me. I do not want to rush into having sex on my parent’s sofa for the sake of having sex any more than you do. It’s not very romantic, is it?” He blinked a few times, “I like the way you feel with all your curves is all. And you’re so incredibly soft I can’t help but want to touch you,” He paused, searching my eyes again, “But, look, I’m not a rapist. I don’t want to be a rapist. I care about you. I’d never want to do something that’d make you feel bad or you’d be sorry for later. And I would never ask you to do anything that you’re not in for one hundred percent. So from now on, don’t hesitate. You decide and when you say so, we stop. And, mind, I won’t get angry. I swear.”
“Thank you. I like that.”
“And I like you. Very much. I would never want you to be hurt or ticked off,” He put his arm around me and kissed me on the head as he plopped beside me. “I want you to be just fine, Just Silvia Cotton. It’s my personal goal to make sure you are always just fine.”
“Can we watch some television?” I snuggled against him.
“We absolutely can,” He began flicking through stations. “Oh, I like this one! Neil nails himself to his apartment building. It’s wicked funny! Have you seen it?”
And just like that we were innocently cuddling on the sofa once again.
If you were never in love during your childhood, you missed out on something very special. I am not speaking of those horrible crushes that keep you up at night and make you sick at the thought of the other person. I am talking about love in its purest form, love that happens before either person has ever been hurt by love. Love that is light and simple and never analysed or dissected. I am talking about passion that has to do with being fascinated and respectful of the other person’s body rather than lustful. I am talking about touching without consummation and kissing without profanity. I am talking about sacred love that comes not from your heart, but from the place in the centre of your soul that screams that this boy is what the universe has decided for you and that you know without a question that you are endlessly, hopelessly in love.
That kind of a love is a gift. It’s a package beautifully wrapped and set before you. All you have to do is pull back the ribbon, tear off the paper, yank it out and let it grow. Almost everyone sullies it, though. They hang on to the wrappings too long thinking that what is inside might not be as beautiful as the outside and without sun and air the creature within slowly dies. Or they look to see if another package is lovelier and abandon the first. But Oliver and I did not do that. We ripped that ribbon back and tore off that beautiful paper, pulled out our gift and we let our love grow without even pruning the leaves.
I suppose it helped that we were so young. We had no baggage, no ex-lovers with which to contend, we were not jealous or suspicious of each other. The thing that really made it work, though, was that we did not compete with each other. Whatever it was we were in, we were into it together. Partners from start to finish, we were hand in hand. Always. Whatever it was, hard or simple, we dug into it together and we saw it through to the end. Few people around us believed that two children could be as in love as we were. There were whispers about us and judgements made. Rumours spread. There were even times at school when it was suggested that we be removed from each other, but seeing how good we were together and how hopeless we were apart, none of our parents had the heart to do that.
Having been able to show our affection freely over break, it was nearly impossible to remember to follow the rules of proper conduct at school. We were caught snogging quite often on the grounds of Bennington. I had never had a detention in my life, but I spent at least an hour a week cleaning blackboards or washing windows the first month we got back. Only certain professors did anything about it, though. Most just told us to quit or made threats, but never followed through.
“Mister Dickinson and Miss Cotton,” Headmistress Pennyweather squirted us with water from the top of her sports bottle one afternoon when we thought we had a moment alone, “I believe that is inappropriate contact by definition of the school code. Oliver, I would be careful or people will begin to think that Alexander is just a brother and Silvia is your conjoined twin!” She looked over her shoulder as she continued walking, “My office, thirty minutes this evening at six!”
“Thirty? It’s only fifteen for snogging!” Oliver called after her.
“Yes, but this is not about snogging! I would like to discuss your questionable choice of courses next semester, so it’s thirty, Oliver!”
Oliver smiled at her as she exited. He adored that old lady.
Madame Pennyweather may have had a sense of humour about our getting off, but it became apparent that some other teachers did not. As our fellow classmates had imaginations that they might have put to better use, nasty little untruths began to spread to the personnel
about Oliver and I being intimate on school grounds. Although she said she found it ridiculous, at the insistence of a few professors, Headmistress Pennyweather called a meeting with our parents.
Oliver and I sat in silence the entire time. I was embarrassed, but he was highly irritated. If I hadn’t known better I might have thought that he was Alex by the resentment in his eyes as he scowled at each professor in turn. A vein pulsed in his temple and the knot in his jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth.
“We believe that a respite between the two of them would be in their best interest,” Professor Lucas explained, “They both are excellent students and it would be a shame for anything… unexpected… to interrupt their promising futures.”
“I am afraid,” Headmistress Pennyweather said idly, “That God himself might strike me down if I were to agree to that.”
“No, no,” My father added, seeming a bit put out, “Oliver is a fine boy and Silvia has good sense. As long as her marks are up I am not worried about their relationship. I trust that your staff makes sure the children conduct themselves appropriately. Have they been caught doing anything more than kissing?”
“Well, no.” Professor Fields looked a bit embarrassed.
I was shocked at my dad. He rarely showed interest in anything I did, much less defended me. He let a long breath out of his nose and pinched his lips tight before he spoke again, “Then I don’t see a problem and, frankly, I am a bit insulted at your accusations against my daughter! I believe I instilled better morals in her than that!”
Sensing the tension, Oliver’s mother made an attempt at humour, “When we first realised how close Oliver and Silvia have gotten, we considered everything from glue remover to hand grenades to put some distance between them. But after we spent more time with Silvia and got to know her and then we saw them together, we changed our minds. Oliver’s better with Silvia than he is without her. He’s not getting into as much trouble in school as he was, is he? My phone certainly rings less. She keeps him in line, I reckon,” Anna looked between Oliver and me tenderly, “They are precious, both of them. I would go as far as to say that Oliver is in love with her and she seems to return his affection absolutely.” She turned back to Madame Pennyweather, “I know my son. Believe me, if you try to pry them apart, he will rebel. You’ll have him climbing out windows and scaling ledges in the dead of night to get to her. If you think I’m joking, you don’t know Oliver.”