Author: IM Libertine Title: Amber: My Friend, My Sitter, My Lover - A not so innocent tale of growing up. Part: Chapter 1 Summary: Monica gets to stay home while her parents go away for a few days; of course they insist on a sitter. Monica finds a chance to build new ties with an old friend. Keywords: intro, no sex ©2014 IM Libertine All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to the author, subject "Attention: Permissions Coordinator," at the address below. Libertine SPB im_libertine@hushmail.com This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Chapter 0 Wintertime Blues Winters in south Texas tend to be mild, they say. Shya right. Right now it's twenty-four degrees outside. Oh, but that's not cold, they say. Whatever. I like summertime, when it's a hundred-and-one degrees in the shade. Shorts weather. This cold can go to hell. So, in order to escape this infernal cold, I'll think summery thoughts. Like this past summer, when Mom and Dad went to Houston for some kind of work seminar and left me here. Not alone though. Amber was here too. She's my... girlfriend I guess. Well really, she’s my lover. (Just thinking about it warms me up! Goodbye February chill!) Chapter 1 Decision "Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right paths, but the final forming of a person's character lies in their own hands." ― Anne Frank It was an average July here in south Texas, thermometers were exploding by the dozens from the high heat, folks were indoors with their air conditioners blasting, and I was in my room, at my desk, trying to think of something to do. I was sick and tired of video games, books, and movies, the three main sources of entertainment over the long summer break. I wanted some adventure, some excitement, some romance! In other words, I was sitting around and bemoaning the fact that I was short, scrawny, and had skin that blistered at even the mention of direct sunlight. Let's not forget the liberal scattering of freckles across my face, which I was told I would surely grow out of; the shoulder length, mousey brown hair that refused to do anything but plaster itself to my head, the nose that was just a little to thin, and the eyes that weren't really blue or green but a shade I affectionately called mud. The glasses didn't help much either. Mom and Dad always tried to cheer me up by pointing at the ugly duckling. She turned out be a beautiful swan, so I should cheer up because I'd grow into my looks. Yeah right. Also, the ugly duckling had no friends. No really close ones, anyway. Boyfriend? Right. All the boys were out there chasing the girls with boobs. Me, I'm flat as a pancake. No hips, no butt. The day I started the seventh grade, the English teacher asked if I was lost and tried to send me to the fifth grade class. That was a riot, for everyone else but me, that is. I had to suffer though classmates calling me Chiyo Chan for a month. In the middle of my moping, I heard Mom calling from downstairs. I sighed heavily and, with great reluctance, got up from my desk to see what she wanted. Our house was an old country style affair with the bedrooms upstairs and everything else downstairs. Out my bedroom door and to the right was the staircase, to the left was Mom and Dad's room. Down the stairs was the living room, and taking a left from there took me to the kitchen, where Mom and Dad were seated at the counter. "What is it," I asked, using my voice to paint a picture of perfect boredom and discouragement. Mom rolled her eyes at my act while Dad raised a hand to his face to scratch his nose, the action hiding a bemused grin. "Well, I was going to ask our thirteen year old daughter if she wanted to stay home while her father and I took a trip; but," she said, drawing out the final word, "This poor little child doesn't look at all like she could take care of herself for an hour, let alone three days. What do you think, Ron?" "Oh, dear," Dad replied, not even trying to hide his amusement, "I can't imagine leaving her alone for even five minutes. She might just wither away." I put my hands on my hips and sighed. My parents, both writers, loved to play dramatic. I really hadn't helped anything with my entrance, but I wasn't about to dwell on that. "I can take care of myself," I said. "Is that so," Mom asked in a more serious tone. "Just two seconds ago you looked about ready to cry." "I did not," I said in defiance. "I was just bored." Dad put his elbows against the counter and leaned back on his stool. "So, you want to stay home? Mom and I need to go to Houston for a few days, big writing seminar up there; can't miss it." Dad; the more he had to say, the more concise he got. I put on my best and sweetest smile. "Yeah, 'course I can. Three days is no sweat." I was doing my damnedest to sound casual but, inwardly, I was doing somersaults. Three days with the house to myself? Sweet! Mom gave me a discerning look then said, "We'll be hiring a sitter, of course." My excitement bubbled away. "Why," I whined. Dad gave me the 'no arguments' look. "Because anything could happen while we were away, and we'd feel a lot more confident about you staying home if you had an adult here." "But I can cook for myself. And I can keep things cleaned up, and... and do my own laundry, and..." Mom raised her eyebrows. "OK, but what if the electricity went out. What would you do?" "Or a thunderstorm blew a tree into the house," Dad chipped in. "Or a bugler," "Or you fell down the stairs," I gave up. Yeah, they had solid points. "OK, I get it." "Good," Dad said, sitting upright in his stool. "So," Mom continued, "Any ideas on who we should call?" They were going to let me choose the sitter? I calculated. "Aunt Becky." "Nope," Mom said, cutting me off. "But," Mom's gave me a knowing glance. "I know. She'd let you stay up until two AM, order pizza for breakfast, lunch, and dinner; drink soda until you were bouncing off the ceiling... Need I go on?" I rolled my eyes in defeat. "No." I thought about it some more. The last time I had a sitter was... heck, years ago. There had been Sheila, who was a grandmotherly old woman who was nice enough, but had the idea that children should be in bed by eight, not watch racy television, and eat broccoli three times a day. Then there was Heather, in her thirties, with a beer-gut, greasy hair, and three missing teeth. She was actually a really sweet person, but being around her kind of grossed me out. Finally, there was Amber. She lived next door; well, when I say next door, I really mean up the road about a quarter mile. Anyway, she was around twenty, cool as all hell, and a friend. We used to hang out together a lot, at least until she graduated high-school and moved to college. I remember Mom saying that she had moved back home. Last week maybe? I couldn't remember. "Um... what about Amber," I decided. "A wise choice, padawan," Dad said, clapping his hands together and bowing his head. I could do nothing but sigh as Mom got up to search for Amber's number. ♥♥♥ I returned to my room while Mom was still on the phone with Amber. I tried to imagine what she would look like now. Last I had seen her, she had just graduated high-school. I remembered deep brown eyes, thick, luxurious hair the color of dark chocolate and worn in a long bob; fair, flawless skin; short skirts, tank tops... I used to wish I could be like her. Hell, I still wished I could be like her. I tossed myself on my bed and let out a muffled groan. Mom was beautiful, her face unblemished, her hair always in perfect shape. Dad was... Frumpy. Disheveled was a good word for him. Dishwater hair, gray eyes. Yep, all Dad's fault. My second helping of self pity was interrupted by my cell going off. I sat up on the bed and scanned the room. I never got phone calls on my cell, not unless it was Mom or Dad checking up on me after school. I had no idea where the thing had gotten to. I followed the sound of The Merry Go Round Broke Down to my dirty clothes hamper, dug around for a second in my unwashed clothing then thought, forget it, and dumped everything. There, tangled up in a pair of my plain, white cotton panties was my phone. I hurriedly snapped it up, tossed the underwear aside, and flipped the phone open. The line was dead. I cursed my usual luck and checked the number. It wasn't anyone I knew. Then again, I really didn't know anyone's number except my own and Mom and Dad's. I was just about to toss the phone on my desk when it started ringing again. The shock of receiving not one, but two phone calls was too much. I dropped the phone. The twenty dollar piece of plastic bounced off the floor and under my bed. "Oh, God, don't be broke, don't hang up," I whispered as I dropped to my knees and groped around under the bed. My hand landed on the phone and I scooped it up a second time, flipped it open and jammed it against my ear. "Hello!", I said, way too loudly. There was a pause on the other line, then a woman's voice. "Monica?" "Yes?" I replied, puzzled. I couldn't place the voice, though it did sound vaguely familiar. The voice immediately turned chipper. "Hey, it's Amber. What's going on?" "Amber?" I said, surprised at how different she sounded than from how I remembered. Her voice was smooth and relaxed. "Wow, it's been... a while!" "Yeah, tell me about it," Amber laughed, "Sorry for not keeping in touch but, you know, college." "Hey, yeah, it's nothing," I replied. I wasn't going to admit that I had been pretty depressed after she left home. She had been my only real friend, and when she never called, or wrote, or emailed... It hurt a little. OK, it hurt a lot. But, here she was, talking like it had only been a couple of day's since we last saw each other. We talked about how she was trying to find a job, about how I was doing in school, about her mom, about my parents. Pretty soon, it was like the good old days. Easy laughs, rude gossip, talking at ninety miles an hour about the latest teen dramas, movies, anime, books, games. We still shared so much in common. "God, I really missed you," I said when the conversation lulled. "Yeah, me too." Amber replied. "That's a shock," I laughed, "I figured you found some college boy. Living the campus life." Amber was quiet for a moment, and I wondered if maybe I had said something I shouldn't have. "No, no boyfriends," She said with what sounded like a forced chuckle. "But yeah, college was... it was college, I guess. Lots of work. Didn't really have time for all the extra stuff, you know?" "Wow," I said. What I really wanted to do was ask her what happened, because she sounded so far away when she talked about college. I restrained myself. I know all to well how it feels to talk about stuff you'd rather forget. "But anyway," Amber went on in a more enthusiastic tone, "Before your mom called, I was thinking of inviting you over here for a sleepover or something." I was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the bed; her words caused me to sit upright. Had she really thought about inviting me over? Just talking to her had made me feel better than I have in ages, but her saying that she wanted to see me, and not just because my parents needed a sitter but just because, made me feel warm inside. Warm and mushy. "Really," I said, trying to sound like I wasn't going to cry. "Yeah really. I missed you so much you'd never believe it." Amber's voice sounded a little choked as well, and I laughed out loud, still shedding tears. On the other end of the line, Amber started laughing as well. ♥♥♥ After Amber and I said our goodbyes and see-you-soons, I got up from the floor, cleaned up the dirty clothes I had scattered, showered, and then collapsed naked on my bed. Today was Tuesday. Mom and Dad were leaving on Friday. Amber would be here Friday morning. For some reason, I felt lightheaded, my heart pumping wildly. I closed my eyes and trailed my fingertips down my chest, my stomach, and stopped between my thighs. I lay there a moment, cupping my sex. I snorted laughter. I could count on one hand the number of times I had masturbated. Once after I learned about it in school, once in the bath, after overhearing girls in my class talking about sex... One girl gossiped about how she felt like she was flying, another about screaming so loud she woke her parents. But when I tried it, nothing but a warm and fuzzy feeling in my belly; no earth shattering orgasms, no screams of bliss. I got up and put on some clothes. I had far too many things to do to get ready for Friday to be rubbing my twat for no good reason.