Daria Gender Flip From Not So Different JTL Version
65. Is There A Home Plate?
That was odd.
What was he doing asleep at 4:07?
Or rather, now that his mind started to focus, what was he doing waking up at 4:07?
Unless it was 4:07am … but in that case, when had he gone to bed?
Simple: he hadn't formally gone to bed, he had just fallen asleep while on Sonny's bed, and now it was four-oh-se-oops.
Stacy carefully shook Sonny awake. She must have found reading her macroeconomics text as soporific as he had found reading Kant's Critique Of Pure Reason, or they'd never have got into this mess.
Sonny, waking, took in the full import of the clock's message as readily as Stacy had. A speedy and silent departure was of the essence. The bedroom door squeaked as Sonny opened it, and they quietly agreed that Stacy should go alone to minimize the noise.
She reached the front door without incident, but when she tried to turn the handle it stuck. It was in this position that she was surprised by Sonny's father, emerging from the kitchen in his pajamas carrying an after-midnight snack. Stacy started fumbling for an explanation, but Sonny's father only commiserated with Stacy's difficulties and offered assistance getting the door open. Stacy didn't dare chance her luck by saying anything, so she just held Mr Morgendorffer's plate as this unexpected early-morning apparition released the sticky latch and then asked Stacy, as she handed back the food, whether she'd ever tried sake.
Stacy guessed that must be what she was smelling on the other's breath. That might help to explain the strange behaviour.
'Um, no', she said. 'You know, the age thing.' She shrugged in explanation and then escaped.
Helen was almost asleep but she was conscious of Jake's returning to bed. She wasn't surprised he'd been up. They'd spent an insufferable evening with the insufferable 'Tokyo Toby' at his sushi bar—Jake was hoping to get the marketing business. She'd avoided swallowing any of the food, but Jake had not held back.
'No wonder you can't sleep', she muttered. 'Tokyo Toby's is poison.'
'Is not', Jake said, already settled back in beside her. He still sounded a little spaced from all the sake he'd drunk, as if he might be ready to drowse off again, when he shocked her awake with the words, 'hey, I forgot to offer Stacy some lazonny …'
'What!' she said, and then, partially recovering herself, 'What was Stacy doing here at this time of night?' She sat up in bed and stared at her husband. He stirred and squirmed a little higher on the pillows.
'Oh, she just had trouble opening the door. You know how it sticks sometimes, don't you?'
Helen turned in disbelief. She looked round at the clock and then back to her husband, and reached out to shake him by the shoulder.
'Jake', she hissed, 'it is ten past four in the morning. Stacy must have been here all night! With Sonny! What do you think they've been doing?'
Jake opened his eyes. 'Oh! But … I mean … what … Helen, do you think … should we …'
'Pull yourself together, Jake! We're talking about two teenagers spending all night together!'
Jake sat up and shivered. 'Wait a minute, Helen … oh, maybe I had a little too much sake …'
'Try to concentrate, Jake! This is our son!'
'Right! Um … do you think she was staying with Quinn?'
Helen hesitated. "I, maybe. But why sneak out this late?"
"Oh. Maybe I should talk with him?"
Helen bit her lip as she thought of what to do. She knew something had been holding back her impulse to leap up and march straight into Sonny's room to demand an explanation. She wasn't confident that Jake could handle the situation any better than she could—but it was probably the right first move.
'Well', she said, 'it might be a good start.' He sat there looking at her until she burst out, 'Go on, then!'
As soon as he'd got Stacy out of his room, Sonny had changed from his daywear to his nightwear and put himself to bed. He was starting to relax again, halfway back to sleep, when he heard his mother loudly exclaim, 'What?'
No more sleep tonight, he thought, sitting up alert again as he started counting the seconds. But instead of his mother appearing at his door in full cry, there was only the sound of aroused voices from his parents' bedroom. A surprising and disquieting length of time passed before his door opened again, and then it was his father and not his mother that he saw, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other.
Sonny said, 'Hi, Dad.'
'Hi! Ah … mind if I come in?'
'I … sure, why not?' Sonny swung his legs over the edge of the bed and reached out to pick up his glasses and put them on. Having his father instead of his mother do the parenting was unusual, but that didn't mean it was bad.
Correction, that didn't mean it was worse.
Sonny watched the almost concealed spasms as his father moved across the room towards him. And was he—sniffing? It was a little, Sonny imagined, like watching an agitated bloodhound trying to catch a scent. Sonny would have been prepared to risk a small wager on just what smell it was that his father was trying to pick up. He decided to try to put them both out of his father's misery.
'Dad', he said, 'Stacy and I had a study date last night. We were both reading textbooks in the living room, and then Quinn came in and started babbling about her date so that we couldn't concentrate. That's why we came up here to my room instead. Then, when Quinn started playing the radio, we shut the door so we could keep trying to concentrate on the books. But they were both so dry that they bored us to sleep. That's all. Whatever else you and Mom might be imagining us doing, we weren't.'
'Okay, um … do you mind if I sit down?' Sonny's father gestured towards the bed.
'No, go ahead. But you don't need to give me a lecture about responsibility. Anyway, as I think I told you once before, nobody's going to get pregnant in this room. I, we, not where near that stage." He didn't want to admit how much they had done. Not that it was much. Even if he and Stacy had been, hanging out, dating, for every months. "Maybe you need to reassure Mom on that point?'
Sonny's father had lowered himself gingerly onto the bed. 'I don't really like lectures', he mumbled.
'But you'd rather give one to me than to Mom? or than get one from her? about parental responsibility?'
'Actually, I'm not feeling so good. I think it might be that sushi I had for dinner.' Sonny's father looked away from him and then back again. 'But I am your father, Sonny, and you are my son. We can talk!' His face changed. 'Can't we?'
'Sure.' Sonny shrugged. 'But there's nothing to talk about, Dad. Trust me.'
'Of course I trust my boy!' Sonny's father again looked to the door and then back to him. 'But there's some things …'
Sonny sighed. 'Dad, I do know about … you know, stuff.'
'Of course you do! You're a bright boy! You know all kinds of stuff! But … well, it's like this. When a boy and a girl are together, there's … like, you know, the bases?'
Sonny drew his brows together. 'You mean, like when they call kissing "first base" and touching." Sonny stops. "And so on?'
'Right! See, I knew you knew this stuff! And you know that with a boy and a girl everybody kind of expects that the boy will want to go ahead and the girl will want to decide when they're ready?'
Sonny genuinely didn't know where his father was going with this. He just nodded. His father swallowed before going on.
'But when you've been together, like you and Stacy, for a long time, you know how far you're going, and anyway because you might think, or some people might think, that you don't have to worry about who's ready for what and you should just keep going and—what I'm trying to say is, Sonny, you always think about everything you do before you do it, don't you?'
Sonny nodded.
'Well, that's good! You keep doing that!' Sonny's father swallowed again, harder than before. 'I really don't feel so good! I have to get a drink!' He sprang up from the bed and dashed out of the room.
Sonny took off his glasses and set them down safely. He sat on the bed for a while before getting up to turn the light out again. Then he stood by the light switch for a while before walking back to the bed, where he stood in yet more thought before getting back under the covers, and even then it took about another half hour before he finally dropped back into a light doze.
He overslept, and so had to rush to be ready for school. When he came through the kitchen, his mother was there and he could tell that she half-wanted to talk with him but was feeling uncomfortable about it. What he was thinking and feeling, thanks to a decade of practice on his part, she couldn't read.
'Sorry, Mom, big rush to get to school. I talked to Dad last night. Nothing happened with Stacy. Everything's okay. Have to go now.'
The one thing practice hadn't given him was the ability to say all that as quickly as Quinn would have, with commas instead of periods. That meant his mother had time to gather herself and start to say something, but before she could fully articulate whatever it was, his father came into the room and started asking his wife to look down his throat because he was sure there was something there, giving Sonny the chance to complete his escape.
From his mother, but not from his thoughts.
He was just in time to catch Jane for the walk to school. He let Jane pull the conversational weight, limiting himself mostly to phatic contributions, but she was much too sharp (and much too familiar with him) not to notice, and much too candid not to call him on it.
'Well …', Sonny said.
'Out with it, Morgendorffer. Does this have anything to do with your being late this morning?'
'You're complaining about my being tardy?'
'It wouldn't be the first time, but I wasn't complaining, and stop trying to change the subject.' Jane put her fists on her hips and raised an eyebrow at Sonny.
Sonny scratched behind his ear, breathed in, breathed out. 'I had a study date with Stacy last night. We were both reading excessively dry texts and we fell asleep without meaning to and didn't wake up until after four in the morning. Then my Dad caught Stacy trying to sneak out of the house unobserved, and after he came upstairs to talk with me I had … trouble getting back to sleep and overslept a little.'
'Are you trying to tell me that you had Stacy in your bedroom practically all night?'
'No, I'm trying to avoid telling you that. Do you want to tell me whether you ever had Tom in your bedroom all night?'
'I knew I should have jumped him while I had the chance!' Jane started to backpedal when she saw Sonny's eyes and lips narrow. 'Kidding! I told you, I'm waiting till college. Eleven a.m. on move-in day.'
'At least you've got a plan. Look, I don't want to talk about the details of what you and Tom did or did not do together. And I definitely don't want to talk about the details of what Stacy and I have or have not done together.'
'Good', said Jane. 'But … there's something else, isn't there?'
'Well …' Sonny hesitated a moment longer, and then explained what his father had said to him. He wound up by saying, 'I think he may have kinda had a point. Do you remember telling me about what went on with you and that Alison at the artists' colony? Did you ever establish exactly what it was she wanted to do with you?'
Jane paused for a moment. 'Not exactly … I see what you mean.'
'And thinking afterwards about what Dad said, I realized something else. People tend to think of those markers in the … physical development of a relationship as being connected with its … ah … er …'—Sonny paused to clear his throat—'… emotional development. If a relationship is … getting further … physically, then it's also getting further in … other ways.'
'But if relationships hinge on physical intimacy', said Jane, and rolled her eyes, 'wouldn't that mean our parents are still doing it?'
'That's absurd.'
Jane brandished a finger. 'Exactly my point.'
Sonny scratched behind his ear as they walked on. Then he said, 'But married with children and not doing it any more is another standard relationship phase for … standard couples or non-standard ones.'
'Well, I see why you want to talk about this.' Jane cocked her head at Sonny. 'But why am I the person you're talking about it with?'
"Because it might mean..."
"Oh." Jane looks away hiding the look on her face. "You two have been together for a long time. Longer than Tom and I were."
"That's just it. We've been hanging out, dating, what ever for a long time. At first I was unsure of what I was doing. I over thought every word I said. I can't not over think." Sonny sighs. "I guess I should talk with her."
'Stacy …', Sonny began.
'You're saying my name that way you do when you're feeling like, emotional pressure, and stuff.'
Sonny blinked. 'Actually, I have been feeling under emotional pressure ever since … well, I've been thinking recently.'
'When aren't you? You're super smart and super smart people think all the time.'
'You remember the other night, when you fell asleep at my place, unintentionally?'
'Sure. Do you know that your Dad found me as I was getting out the door? He didn't seem bothered by the situation. You didn't get into trouble, did you?'
'No, but … you know how we've done a few things … I mean, physically … but there's also lots of stuff we haven't done?'
'Hey, we talked about this already. I don't want you to think you're pushing me into anything you're not. I don't want to push you either. Like, respect each other and stuff. Right?'
'Right.' Sonny nodded. 'Except …'
'Except what?'
'Except I don't know what I'm ready for.' Sonny put his hand over his navel. Stacy fidgeted with her hair or scrunchie, he did so with his navel ring. 'I'm—I'm scared.'
'If you're scared how do you think I feel? If you're not ready I'm happy to leave it at that.'
"Really?"
"Well, I mean, I think about it. Terrified but think about it too. No one else in the Fashion Club has done like, any thing, but they don't have any one like I do. You make me happy."
'Happy?'
'Yes!'
Sonny shook his head. 'Anyway, the point is that it's not the same thing. Just because I'm scared of more intimacy doesn't mean I'm not ready for it. I'm scared of finding out that I'm not ready … and scared of finding out that I am. And either way I'm scared of how you'd feel, and the effect it could have on our relationship.'
Stacy leaned in and gave Sonny a fleeting kiss.
'I think we just did reach a higher level of intimacy', she said. 'And as for the effect on our relationship—whatever you do or don't want to do, and however it works out, I'll still be here.'
'Then maybe I'm ready to find out a little more—even if I am scared.'
Stacy looked carefully at Sonny. 'If that's really how you feel—my dad is going out of town next weekend.'
Sonny failed to control a flinch. 'Your place?'
Stacy shrugged her shoulders as she started playing with her hair. 'Would you prefer your place?'
'My place? Where my parents live? No, no, uh … no, I guess it had better be your place.'
Stacy inclined her head. 'We don't have to do any thing more. I mean, I'm scared too. Like, what if I'm bad? I, I've never,' Her face almost turns bright red. "We can do some things, more, but not, um,"
Sonny, feeling the same way, gave an over-emphatic nod. 'Your place, Saturday, eight o'clock.'
'Fine', said Stacy. She smiled. 'Okay?'
'Don't get carried away', Sonny said. 'We're just going to see where this goes, that's all. No fixed plans.'
'That works for me. I mean every word of that.' Stacy gazed into Sonny's eyes and gave him another fleeting kiss. 'I think we're making the right choice—but if you do feel too scared, all you have to do is say so.'
"Same." The two can't make eye contact again as they walk separate ways.
'Oh', said Sonny, at twenty past eight, at the door to Stacy's bedroom.
'It's the candles, right? Sorry. I kinda like them, but if they don't feel right to you, …'
'No, it's not …'—Sonny wasn't sure how to finish the sentence. He looked around Stacy's bedroom. 'Actually', he went on, 'it's a good idea. I kept thinking "Light? No light? Light? No light?", but this way things won't be concealed but also won't be glaring.' He put one hand over his navel. 'The music …'
'You don't like it?' Stacy switched it off, then turned to face Sonny again. 'I guess I made the right decision not to um, never mind.'
Sonny looked at Stacy for a moment, with his hand still over his navel, then walked to the bed, sat down, and started unlacing his shoes. 'No shoes on the bed, right?'
Stacy came over to the bed and sat down next to him, just within arm's reach. 'Sounds like a good idea.' She started taking her fashionable shoes off as well.
When they were both barefoot, Stacy leaned over to kiss Sonny. As he returned the kiss, Sonny put his hands on Stacy's shoulders. When they separated, he left his hands there while he looked into Stacy's eyes for a moment before dropping his gaze. He moved his hands from Stacy's shoulders and started pulling Stacy's top free of her pants. 'Okay if I do this?' he said.
Stacy nodded. 'If you want to', she said, and Sonny moved his hands round to the back to unhook... And kissed Stacy again.
As Sonny sat on a chair doing up his shoes, Stacy, still lying on the bed, turned her head to look at the clock. 'Quarter past ten', she said.
'Yeah', Sonny said, 'I really should be getting home. My Dad's been freaking out about a parasite he got from some bad sushi, and I feel like I should be there for him.' He stood up and scratched behind his ear.
'What are you thinking about?'
'Just, are we ok? I know we thought we would, but, we're not, I mean, I enjoyed that we did more but, not,'
Stacy simply nodded and smiled. 'It's ok. I, liked, what we did too. Maybe another time we can like, do the rest.'
'A next time.' Sonny screamed in his own mind to his brain to stop thinking. Stop. Stop!
Stacy nodded again.
'But we don't talk about it', Sonny said.
'Ok, sure', Stacy said.
Sonny checks his clothes to make sure they weren't too wrinkled. "I, I should go. I lock the door behind me."
"Ok. Um, good night. And uh, I,"
"I know. I, too."
With that, he gave her one last look before turning and leaving.
Some dialogue from 'My Night At Daria's' by Peggy Nicoll
