losing things
Evan
I managed, though it was a struggle, to live next door to the ever-emerging beauty of Rachel Summers. The main saving grace was that she loved gardening and was forever dressed in a grubby pair of cargo pants and a baggy tee-shirt, with her hair in a ponytail and her face and hands covered in dirt. Still looked sexy as fuck but it was toned down.
Everything went wrong when she turned seventeen, and her mother decided she could now drink and visit nightclubs. A fact I only found out when a drunken Rachel came up to me in such a club, inebriated, in a night not dissimilar to the one we'd just had.
* * *
September 2010
"Evan. Evan. Thank god you're here."
I swing around to find myself face to face with a woman who looks like Rachel from next door. I take in the short black dress, the fuck-me heels, the smoky eyes, poker-red lips, and my dick salutes. Then I realise it is Rachel. Rachel Summers is in front of me, in front of every sex-mad man here, in this club, looking entirely fuckable. She's pissed as a fart and can hardly stand up straight, and she looks panicked. Hell, has someone attacked her?
"Rachel. Is everything okay?"
"I've lost my phone. Evan, can you help me find it? My mum will kill me. She only let me come out with the promise I would keep my phone on me and let her know as soon as I phoned a taxi home, so she knew when to expect me. She's shitting herself that I've come out drinking and now I can't reassure her because I've lost my damn phone,” she says, shaking the exact phone she's talking about in front of me.
"Er, Rachel. Is this your phone?" I ask her.
She stares at it, a look of complete amazement crossing her face.
"Yes. Yes, it is. Oh, thank you, Evan. Where was it? Oh, I'm so happy you found it."
I'm almost knocked over as Rachel throws her arms around me. "Oh, thank you, Evan, you've saved my life."
I'm instantly aware that her boobs are squished against my chest. She looks up at me with her large brown doe eyes, and I'm about three seconds from sticking my dick down her throat so they can look at me like that while she makes me come in her mouth.
One, two. I push her away as if she's on fire.
She stumbles backwards and almost falls over.
Damn it.
"Rachel. Who did you arrive with?"
"Keeley. But she's in the corner with Aiden, her boyfriend. I'm a goose bump."
"You mean a gooseberry?"
"That's what I said. Are you all right, Evan? You look a bit clammy and flushed.” She leans over and feels my forehead. "Do you feel all right?" She slides her hand down the side of my face. "Lovely Evan, finding my phone."
"Okay, let's get that taxi called," I tell her. I need the safety of a cab so that my own actions are being watched and I can get her home safely.
I get her to give me her phone so I can text her mother and then I take her home.
Her mother opens the door and shakes her head as Rachel wobbles up the path. "Thanks, Evan, for bringing her home. I warned her not to get in this state. She could have ended up in real trouble. Thank goodness we have a well-behaved gentleman living next door. I'd better get her inside and get some water down her."
Adam appears, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "Oh dear. Well, I guess we all do it at least once, hey? I'll help you get her up to her room, Sally."
With that, the door closed and I went back to my own house.
The next time I went clubbing I lost my virginity to a woman with long dark hair in an alley at the back of the club.
While, no doubt, Rachel's room spun around, it was my thoughts that did. Thoughts of her pert breasts against my chest. Her arms around my neck. Her hand caressing my face. I realised that night that I couldn't carry on living next door to Rachel anymore. It was too much. Men were going to come on to her and date her, and I didn't want to witness any of it. So, I moved into digs with some Uni mates. I only had to see Rachel a fraction of the time then, when our paths crossed in bars or clubs.
* * *
My pattern of serial one-night stands started after that night. I'm not sure how many times I imagined they were Rachel. Then she started working at the Nag's Head, and I had to get used to seeing her regularly again. Seeing her dating other men. So, I carried on with my one-night stands and hoped that one day sooner, rather than later, I'd click with one of them, make a connection that broke the torch I carried for Rachel Summers. But it never did.
"Earth calling Evan. Where'd you go then? Not getting tired, are you?"
"Definitely not," I say, sitting up on the couch. "I'm wide awake," I state emphatically, taking a large swig of my coffee. "To answer your question," I add, "I moved out of my parents’ house because I had manly needs to meet and I couldn't do that in my parents’ home."
"Ah, you needed a shag pad."
"Something like that."
"I missed you when you left," she says. "It was weird not seeing you around, emptying the bins, or having to put up with the crap music that used to boom from your bedroom window."
"I did not play crap music."
"That is entirely debatable. But we'll discuss musical likes and dislikes when we have our getting to know each other better session."
"Our what?"
"In order to stay the night, we can either go to sleep, or I have a dazzling array of entertainment planned," she says, "including watching a film, a getting to know you session, and a sex Q&A. Lots of things to ensure we stay awake all night long, or…" She tilts her head at me. "We can go to bed and go to sleep."
"At some point, I'll find that key," I tell her. "And you will be on your way in a taxi."
"Well, until then, what DVD shall we watch?"
"There's a cupboard full of them." I point towards it. "Open those doors and knock yourself out."
She turns to me with a beaming smile.
I leap up. "No, actually, this is my place. We'll watch a film of my choosing." Christ, I have a few chick flicks for when I have to work a bit harder at getting in a girl’s knickers, like The Notebook. The last thing I want is Rachel crying on my shoulder. I need her at the other end of the sofa.
"Whatever," she says dismissively. "If it makes you feel more in control of the situation, which you most certainly are not, go right ahead and choose."
I keep quiet and let her think she’s won, because I'm mightily relieved that I distracted her from when she said she missed me.