Whack! Whack! went the noise of the rattan against the tree. Michael was pleased with the rhythm and accuracy of his blows, enough to let a smile cross his face. It was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon, and the SCA was on the Drillfield of Virginia Tech to practice swordplay.
“Ah, the brooding one comes forth to rejoin his boon companions.” Said Boar as he walked up, speaking in-character for the SCA meeting.
“Methinks he hath received a missive from his fair lady.” Added Mitch.
“Well met, my friends. Your intuition has not failed you.” Replied Michael, also in-character.
“After your trip home, you did not seem yourself.”
“I wasn’t. Things didn’t quite work out the way I’d hoped. I was a little depressed by it.” Michael decided against going into further detail. He figured it would only lead to more teasing about his refusal to sleep with Deborah.
“So, what did she say in the letter?” asked Mitch.
“In truth, I don’t know. I haven’t read her letter yet. I picked it up from the mail box and then dashed over here.”
“Now here is a man dedicated to his craft. He ignores a long awaited letter in order to whack a tree with a fake sword.” Teased Boar. “Go, you fool. After two weeks moping in your dorm room, I doubt your skills will atrophy that much further in a few short minutes.”
“Alright.” Agreed Michael.
“Has it occurred to you that maybe he doesn’t want to read it?” added Mitch as Michael walked away. “After all, if their last meeting ended with a fight?”
“No worries.” Said Michael as he fetched the letter from his pack and ran it under his nose. “I doubt she’d send a Dear John scented with her perfume.”
Mike and Mitch looked at each other with raised eyebrows. “Well then.” Said Mitch. “I stand corrected.”
Michael ignored them as he opened the letter. There was single page on pink stationary and a photograph of the two of them taken at the beginning of the homecoming dance. He savored seeing her in that dress again and his memories immediately darted to seeing her out of it in the shadows of the picnic pavilion. Michael began to read.
Sept 30, 1991
Dear Michael,
I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write. Things are so busy here with school and family stuff. My brother is off to boot camp, so we had a big send off for him. And now I finally have a moment to write you.
I wish now I had not turned you down that night. It’s been hard with you being away. I miss you. I wish you could be here and hold me in your arms. Believe me when I say I really regret wimping out. I never wanted to be with anyone as badly and I blew it. Please forgive me. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Not after all we’ve been through.
It’s been wonderful seeing all that’s going on with you down at Tech. You really are changing into a new man, Michael. I’m sure some of those you’ve talked about are part of that. I’m excited that you’ve found such a good group of friends: Gamers and SCAtians and all that. Being on a big college campus, you must meet all sorts of interesting people. I look forward to coming down to visit and meet all of them.
Until next time. Love forever.
Rebecca
Michael looked up from the perfumed page to see Boar and Mitch waiting expectantly. When he said nothing, the two looked back at one another. “Ah, young love.” Teased Boar.
“Would you two stop it?”
“You want to make us?” challenged Boar playfully. “I still have a few thumpings to avenge.”
“So be it.” Said Michael, picking up his rattan sword.
----
“…living so long with my pictures of you…almost believe that they’re real.” Played the CD player.
Boar was waving a photograph. “Hey, guys, take a gander at Lord duLac's fair lady.” Michael was chasing after him, trying to fetch back the picture. They had all gathered, as they always did after SCA, back at Boar’s apartment. The booze came out. The radio was playing and all were there to have a good time.
“So that’s the one you turned down Deborah for?” said one. “Now I can see why.”
Michael fetched the photo back. “Come on, guys, give me a break.”
“You’re just a freshman. It’s our job to make your life miserable.”
“A freshman that can kick your ass on the tourney field.”
“He keeps bringing that up.” Added Mitch. “Pride goeth before the fall, they say.”
“I’ve just got one question for you.” Said Boar, taking a swig from his drink. “Does she put out like Deb?”
Michael might have been angry at such an implication before, but he was in far too good a mood today for that. He gave Boar a playful smack on the shoulder. “No, God no. Is that all you think about? There are more important things.”
“Whatever. Looks like Churchboy has got himself a Churchgirl.” Boar chuckled.
Michael darkened. Boar was pushing and Michael's good humor had its limits. He tucked the picture into his pocket. “It’s not like that. I’m the only one for her. She’s already said as much. I’m tired of your insinuations and tired of the teasing, Mike.” His tone grew hostile.
At that moment, Deb walked in the door. Spotting the look on Michael’s face, she came over.
“I think that’s probably enough for one night.” She said, moving between Michael and Boar and placing her hand affectionately on Michael’s chest. “We’re all friends here. Let’s try to keep it that way.”
“Yeah, I’m just kidding you.” Said Boar. “Try not to take it too seriously.”
“I get…” Michael began angrily, but Deb grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward the door.
“Let it go.” She said. “It’s not worth it.”
“He teases me and I'm sick of it.”
“I heard. Boar’s voice tends to carry.” Said Deb coolly. “He can only hurt you if you let him.” She paused. "So, can I see her?"
“You are a strange one, Deborah.”
"I'd like to size up the competition."
Michael pulled out Rebecca's picture and showed it to Deborah. "Not bad. Cute. Redhead. Decent chest. Nice curves. Great legs."
"It's like you're drooling over her yourself."
"Maybe I am. Or have they not told you I go both ways?"
Michael frowned at that admission. Deborah's response surprised him. "Ah, and there's the Churchboy I remember. I missed you." She looked him in the eye. "Should I guess about what happened a couple weeks ago?"
"I'd rather you didn't."
"Well, either you went all the way and you're embarrassed to admit it or she turned you down. If the former, I want all the juicy details. It'll make me wet just thinking about it."
"You are unashamedly vulgar." growled Michael.
"If it's the latter, I can always offer you a consolation prize."
"You don't quit easily, do you?"
“No, because I know I have something you want.”
“No, you don’t.” said Michael, returning the photo to his pocket.
“Ah, but I do. You see, even if you scored, she's still there and I'm here. In fact, I imagine I've got a better chance now if she popped your cherry, because now you know what it's like."
"Do you really think I find you even remotely attractive?"
"You're a terrible liar, Michael. That's just weak. They all know what you really think and so do I."
“Am I that transparent?”
“You are many things, but complicated is not one of them.” She paused. “Look, I can teach you to loosen up, to take life as it comes, to enjoy yourself. You’re so afraid to let your guard down for even a minute. You’re so closed off, thinking you’re hiding behind these great walls.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“I know almost everything. That’s what bothers you.” She slid closer, wrapping her arms about his waist. “Just trust us. Trust me, and we can show you things that’ll blow your mind. We’ll give you the time of your life, if you let us.”
“I have everything I want. Everything I need. You offer me nothing I want.” He gave her a less-than-pleasant shove and stormed out the door.
“Indeed.” Said Deborah to herself. “We shall see.”
----
Michael came down the stairs into the basement of Thomas Hall, down to the mailboxes for the students. He was pleasantly surprised to see Karl checking his mail.
“Hey, Shadowrun tonight at BRPA.” Reminded Karl. “You coming?”
“I intend to. Why the change of venue?”
“Just trying to get some new players, maybe make some folks interested in a new or different game. I could use your help there.”
“Some of my BattleTech group will be there. I think we can talk them into a switch, at least for the night.”
“Good. Looking forward to it.”
Michael opened up his mailbox and saw a letter within. “Hey!” he exclaimed out loud.
“What is it?” inquired Karl.
“A letter from Rebecca. Second in two weeks.”
“She must really miss you.”
“Well, the last one was something. Perfume and all.” Michael ripped open the envelope and began to read.
October 14, 1992
Dear Michael,
This letter will probably come as a shock for you. But there's no easy way to say what I have to say. Things have changed since the last time I wrote.
Shawn and I were working on a lab project one night, and we got to talking. We got talking about Tommy. He's really the first person I've spoken to about what happened besides you. He was understanding and sympathetic. It was like he knew what it meant to go through all that.
One thing led to another and we started going out. We've gone out several times in these past two weeks. Things are really clicking for us. I've never had a relationship quite like this. Things are really serious between us.
Of course, you're certainly smart enough to know what this means for us. I'm sorry this is such a shock and the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you. You've been good to me, and you will always remain a special friend to me. But our time as a couple is over.
Rebecca
Karl reached out to touch Michael's shoulder. “You look like you just got punched in the gut.”
“I did.”
----
Michael picked at his dice as the others around him relished the fun of the Shadowrun game. He had hoped being there would provide a nice distraction from the gnawing hole in his heart, but he’d hardly spoken. Hardly done anything except show up.
Corwin was across the table from him, enjoying his new character, a street detective. Beside him was Mitch, whose luck with his dice still seemed uncanny. Their in-game mission was to track down a missing mercenary, something Michael’s character would have come in handy for, but Michael simply wasn’t into the game.
“So,” said Corwin, in-character, “what do you know about this guy?”
“Mal used to run with a group of Shadowrunners I was with,” said Karl, playing the part as he always did of the non-player characters. “but we broke up about six months ago.”
Karl was about to continue when Michael shot to his feet. The words “broke up,” even in this completely unrelated context, were simply too much for him to bear.
“I’m sorry, guys, but I’m just not with it tonight. I think I’m going home.” With that, Michael swiftly gathered his things and headed out the door.
It was a short walk up from Squires Student Center to Thomas. Michael checked his watch. It was about 8:45pm and the sun had set. With Corwin still in the game, his room would be empty and it was the perfect time to get some answers.
Michael indifferently dropped his gaming materials on the floor and headed over to the phone. He punched in Rebecca’s number from memory, his heart in his throat as he did so. Despite his terror, he knew he had to do this.
The other end picked up after only a few short rings. A familiar voice said “Hello.”
“Rebecca.” Said Michael feebly.
“Hi, Michael. I thought I might be getting this call.”
“I don’t understand. What happened?”
“I told you that in the letter.” Said Rebecca impatiently. It was obvious she did not want to discuss the matter, but courtesy kept her on the line.
“Things were going so well for us. I really thought we were…”
“Michael, the simple fact is there are a lot of things about you that I truly love, but there are some things that I don’t. I’ve given this a lot of thought since you were home last. And I’m not sure I can live with these things. There are things about you that frighten me.”
“Like what?” said Michael with a baffled tone.
“Your temper, for one. You scare me when you are angry.”
“I would never hurt you. How can you say that?”
“Yet you lash out at me from time to time. Like you did after Todd came after you at the game.”
“He’s an asshole; he’s bullied me for years. Yes, I was angry. And yes, I did snap at you. But I apologized and I thought you forgave me.” Michael paused for a moment and took a different tact. “Besides, if you hadn’t noticed I’m not exactly a match for him or anyone else. Not only wouldn’t I hurt you, there’s plenty of evidence to suggest I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
“You and I both know that’s not true.” Said Rebecca, stonewalling him. “You took martial arts. I’ve seen you at SCA events. You know how to fight. And I know you. Well enough to know what you’d do to me even now if we were face-to-face having this conversation.”
“You genuinely think I’d hurt you?” said Michael incredulously. These new accusations stung worse than being broken up with.
“I know you’d try, because I’m about to tell you something that I know will set you off.”
“What?”
“There’s no delicate way to put this so I’ll be blunt. Shawn and I have slept together.”
The hammer-blow feeling Michael received when he first read the letter that afternoon returned with a vengeance. “You did what?” he stammered out. “You said it was me you wanted. I thought…” Michael felt rage boil up within him, the volume of his voice rising as it did. “I SAVED MYSELF FOR YOU!” He shouted.
“See what I mean?” said Rebecca, satisfied that Michael had now made her point for her.
Michael regained his composure. “How could you?” he asked feebly.
“You’re not here. Shawn is.”
“But I love you.”
“That doesn’t matter anymore.” The click of her phone hanging up followed.
----
Michael wandered for hours, making circuits of Virginia Tech’s campus, trying to find some peace amidst the chaos of his feelings. It hurt. It hurt like nothing he’d ever felt. And he was angry, furious at Rebecca’s betrayal, her hypocrisy, all the broken promises.
But most of all, he felt humiliated. The last few years of his life now seemed a fool’s venture. Everything he’d done, everything he’d tried to do was folly. His compassion for her over the death of her brother. His loyalty. His faith. He now knew it had bought him nothing, and what had it cost him?
Physical weariness finally got the better of him and he sat down, slumped really, within a small copse of trees near the Duck Pond. His despair overwhelmed him and he began to cry. As the tears flowed, his thoughts moved to suicide; he began to think of death as a release from the pain. A perverse smile crossed his lips briefly. What retribution it would be if Rebecca blamed herself for his death just as she had for her brother’s?
But the vengeful thought was soon overwhelmed once more by his grief and he returned to his tears. He did not know nor did he care how long he sat there weeping. But he was not alone.
Quietly, almost respectfully, Deborah stepped out of the shadows and stood nearby. She said nothing, but merely waited for Michael to notice her arrival.
After a time, he looked up. His eyes were red from the tears and he seemed unable to focus on her at first. But after a moment, he locked eyes with her, but said nothing.
“So,” she said quietly. “it has happened.”
Michael stood up slowly, with deliberate menace. “Come to say ‘I told you so’?” He jeered angrily.
Deb gave no answer, but merely kept her gaze firmly locked on his as he tried to tower over her. Deb was certain that anything she said would set him off, regardless of what tone she took.
She spoke anyway. “Playing by the rules didn’t work.” She said matter-of-factly. “It never does.”
“Then fuck the rules!” roared Michael. He gave Deborah a hard shove, knocking her off her feet and onto the grass. “And fuck you.”
Deborah said nothing, but a small smile crossed her lips. Michael looked down at her, his temper still hot. Her legs were apart and he had full view up her mini-skirt. Deborah was wearing no panties.
His eyes darted from her crotch to her face. She was well aware of what he could see, and yet her look was oddly neutral, as if waiting for him to make the next move.
He did. He reached down and grabbed her ankles, dragging her towards him across the wet grass. As he did so, her skirt hiked up fully, exposing her completely.
“So now the armor comes off. And the real you finally emerges.” Commented Deborah as Michael fumbled with his belt. He stopped, his uncertainty returning. “DO IT!” she shouted. “DO TO ME WHAT YOU WANT TO DO TO HER!”
Michael’s face hardened. There was no more hesitation. He practically ripped off his belt and yanked his pants down. The underwear followed. His manhood was stiffened by fury and he dropped to his knees and thrust into her.
His thrusts were violent, rough, but Deborah gave no resistance. She said nothing more, no protest, no moans of pleasure, nothing. Her face returned to its odd neutrality, as if she were a mere disinterested observer of her own rape.
But she was not completely passive either. After a few minutes of Michael’s furious pounding, she reached down and pulled up the hem of her tank top, exposing her breasts. Michael took advantage and grabbed and groped at them, never slowing his pace.
His frantic rhythm soon got the better of Michael and he gave one final desperate thrust as he reached climax, emptying himself into her. In that same moment, he seemed to return to himself.
He staggered back to his feet, nearly tripping over the jeans about his ankles. His face was a mask of unbelieving horror, unable to comprehend what he had just done. Deborah lay there, her clothing disheveled, her eyes never leaving him.
“Oh, my God.” Was all he could utter. He grabbed his jeans and yanked them back up. And he tore off into the night.
Act One Chapter Four
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