Oblivious Reasons
Omniskriba
//: one.
When Dorothy Ann woke up that morning, all the world fit snuggly in a warm, muscular embrace. Her eyes still shut, face buried deep in Carlos' chest, Dorothy Ann relished the moment hangover and all. She has never had a "last night" like last night. Her body held on to the memory, clad only in satin sheets and her lover's soft, supple skin.
She was sixteen. Tall. Slim. Her mind was sharp as a tack but it was her blonde-haired, blue-eyed, slim-figured charm that men took notice of. Her figure has blossomed to that of a mature young woman's with all its urges and lures and inclinations. Nevertheless, she felt very, very small where she was, secure in Carlos' arms as she has never been before.
Perhaps it was last night's intimations that led her to feel Carlos' body differently. It was almost as if she was exploring him again for the first time, his contours seemingly more rugged and more detailed than she remembered them. And she thought she remembered them by heart before.
Dorothy Ann sleepily caressed one of her hands through his naked torso, feeling angled contours she once knew as round. She felt the firmness of her breasts give way to the rock-solidty of Carlos' abdomen. She was more than a little surprised by this, of course, as their naked toes touched. Perhaps at sixteen, Carlos was still growing. She ran her hand down those shredded abs and felt the same peculiarity sink in. It lost none of its firmness or detail although it was not the smooth symmetry she knew too well. It was not the scientifically and methodically sculpted shape created by a lifetime of school-sponsored athletics and routine workouts. The wall beneath her fingers weas built of irregular cobblestones. Were there six? Or eight? Or five? She couldn't tell by feeling it. His treasure trail, thickish but soft like down, distracted her. It was new to her. She was unfamiliar with the line of hair that seemed so natural as she spanned the broadness of his chest. It was not as developed as she remembered - on the whole, he seemed to have both slendered down and toned up. She didn't mind. This was the body that dragged her through every meaning of bliss all night the night before. She had never wanted him so badly.
A large, broad hand found its way between the threshold of her upper thighs. They were rough and calloused, warm to touch, resting on her silk-smooth skin. They were almost big enough to span around her leg, heavy and felt strong even at perfect rest. It unconsciously drew her closer by the heartstrings, drawing her to his side. They both smelled vaguely of tequila and spunk. It did not matter.
A fizz shot through her veins. They were both totally and completely naked under the sheets and Dorothy Ann finally realized that. The head of his limp member brushed her hips as their bodies met tighter. She gave a complacent smile though no one was there to see it. Had she been without him for so long to have missed all these drastic changes? He must have been a bit bigger soft that morning than when he was hard the last time they were "together".
She sighed. Drawing her hand from underneath, she reached out to find his head somewhere near the bedpost. Long, wavy hair met her long slender fing—
At that very moment, Dorothy Ann Brenner was officially awake. Both her eyes were open. The rest of her senses scrambled to register everything in her surroundings—where she was, who she was with and what she was doing the night before.
It did not take long for her to realize that Carlos Ramone, with whom she had a spat two days before, did not have auburn chest-hair.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Arnold saw what seemed to be a naked woman through the haze of sleep-stuff in his already near-sighted eyes. The woman, vaguely blonde and vaguely beautiful, looked agitated. Mortified even as she tried to pull his sheets over to cover her body, shuffling around, looking for her clothes.
His head was heavy and he knew he had been drinking. He vaguely recalls losing his virginity to someone the night before and was relieved that the person scampering all over his hotel room had boobs and a full head of hair. No one back in his high school would believe him if he told them he finally made it all the way with a girl, let alone a blonde bombshell, but that was irrelevant. All that mattered then was the woman in his room right. Maybe if he was really, really nice and really, really polite maybe she'd still talk to him after the hangover wore off.
"A...Arnold?"
It was a familiar voice. Like he had heard it somewhere before. He heard it long before he heard it last night when her pain-drenched screams of what might-have-been-his-name filled his head. A nagging sliver of nostalgia nagged him from the back of his head; from a simpler time when his geekery merited little more than light hearted taunts. He then realized the sleep-stuff had worn off from his eyes. He felt around half-blindly for his glasses, found them, put them on and gave the woman a long hard look. He then slammed himself onto the headboard and tried to hide his nakedness behind a hotel pillow.
"D-D-D-D-Dorothy ANN!"
He found his head, Arnold did, watching Dorothy Ann struggling into a pair of tight-cut jeans standing up, her upper body barely clad with white, designer unmentionables. The events of the night before fell into place like an unshattering punch bowl.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Dorothy Ann assembled her thoughts. This is Arnold's hotel room she told herself, recalling everything that happened between waking up that morning and the last coherent memory she had.
They were in Austin. The Austin Merriot to be precise. Yesterday, she finished third in the Texas State Women's Division Ivy Bowl - the Ivy League-sponsored High School Quiz Bee - qualifying her for the National Finals. She may have been a bit disappointed she didn't grab first but she could have at least left the Convention Hall relieved. She was going to the National Finals! She should have been excited at least. It was not like her to leave as distraught as she did, tired and listless.
But it wasn't the contest that got to her. On a different day, she would have joined a gaggle of other contestants and partied her brains out before she returned to Walkerville for even more excruciating study.
Then again, it was particularly bitter the way Carlos and her fought two days before and she could hardly be blamed if she scooted off by herself and drank herself three ways to Sunday in the hotel bar. It didn't take much to floor her, she admitted. Half a shot of tequila and she already has four centers of gravity.
She was one and three-fourths of a shot into her slump when a bunch of geeks came in. They were obnoxious and noisy but not in the way jocks inevitably are. For one thing, their banter was made up, for the most part, of shrill whines and grated bursts of laughter. It was almost embarassing how she was able to understand everything they were saying. They must be from the Men's Division, she thought. Apparently, their "leader", a tall young man who was strangely out of place with the crowd for some reason, got into the finals as well.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
She was wearing the white "one-size-fits-all" Ivy Bowl 2000 tee shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He was watching her from across the room even as he swapped Dungeons and Dragons war stories with the few new friends he made at the Austin meet.
"So I rolled a four, right? And there were two mighty draco-liches in front of me. So what I did was—was—"
"Uh… Perlstein? Is something wrong?"
"As I was saying, I rolled a four, right?"
She was in the bar, obviously already a bit tipsy. She was telling the bartender to "Shut up, Carlos! You never supported anything I want to do! It's always you and your stupid inventions and get-rich-quick schemes and I've had it with you ignoring the things important to me! I'm going to Austin alone and unless you clean up your act while I'm gone, it's over between us!". Interestingly, the bartender was a pretty young asian girl and he was pretty sure her name tag said "Hello, my name is Lara".
Well what do you know? It was Dorothy Ann. Dorothy Ann from Walkerville Elementary. Was it what—five, six years since he's seen her? He moved from Walkerville to Dallas during the fifth grade and he was never able to keep in touch with anyone. Phoebe called once or twice during the first few years and he received a birthday card from the old gang on his eleventh birthday but they eventually drifted apart all the same. They slipped his mind, he slipped theirs and life went on as it should.
When the guys had decided to hit one of their rooms for a night of wild and wicked sorority girls (on video), Arnold split up with them at the door. Hepped up on some liquid courage, he excitedly came to her side.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"Drink!" Dorothy Ann commanded Mr. Random Red-Haired Hollywood Movie Star.
"No thank you. Me and the others—"
"DRINK!"
"Yes ma'am."
Dorothy Ann couldn't remember what movie saw him in but he seemed familiar. Like he was from a really, really fun movie she saw as a kid. One that had dinosaurs and space ships and shrinking and flying and all sorts of twisted, wacky magical stuff like the stuff they used to do in Ms. Frizzle's class back in the third grade.
"Uhm… I don't know if you remember me but it's… it's me… Arnold Perlstein. I used to live in Walkerville. We used to be in grade school together?"
"Oh riiiiight! You were the kid with that turned orange from eating too much beta carotine! I loved that episode! Can I have your autograph, mister… uh—"
"Dorothy Ann, I think your drunk. Maybe I should take you to your room."
"No! I'll stay, you drink. We're not going anywhere until I look like Alicia Silverstone. Then, you can take me to my room."
As it turns out, Arnold had enough liquid courage to take up her offer.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"We had SEX?"
"Yeah… I think that's what happened."
"Oh god, what have we done? What have I done?" Arnold exclaimed nervously. He was eyeing his surroundings paranoid that there might have been hidden cameras somewhere. He didn't take her back to her room. This was his.
"I…" Dorothy Ann was at a loss for words. It wasn't as if Arnold took advantage of her. She can still remember Arnold and Her dancing with lampshades on their heads sometime before they fell into bed so he must have been just as soused as she was. And that morning's Arnold looked even more afraid than she was.
"I'm sorry."
Dorothy Ann saw more than one thoroughly used condom on the carpet. They seemed intact enough, though only barely.
"No… it's okay. It's okay."
There was silence between them. Dorothy Ann dared not look at him. Neither did he.
"How's… how's everyone in Walkerville?"
"They're… I have to ."
"Please, Dorothy Ann—"
"I have to go."
She was perfectly still, hand over her face.
She was perfectly still for a particularly odd period of time.
"I really have to go."
Still, not an inch.
"Do… you want to have breakfast?"
"Uh, okay. Just give me a sec to shave…"
Running away from her problems was not like her. Perhaps just denying anything happened would suffice.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Next: What everybody's been up to.