When Love Calls Your Name by LBJ Harris

Author:LBJ Harris
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LGBTQIA+, 1970s, promiscuity, in the closet, college, bisexual, sexual discovery
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2021-11-21T00:00:00+00:00

Interlude Eleven

Karen’s Story

I’ve had plenty of brothers hit and score on me. I’ve learned, well, how to hide my true feelings. I’ve learned, too, that being a pretty, voluptuous “big girl,” not many men take me seriously. A lot of them will give me play just to rock my ass, and I know this.

And if it looked good to me, I went along with it. If it was less than adequate, I sent them packing. But it still hurts when you finally lower your guard and let one of those no-good motherfuckers in.

(Karen’s words began to crumble as she started sobbing again. I guided her to a bench and held her until she got herself back together.)

There was this guy, Peter Miller; he was my first love. I was a sophomore and he was a senior. He was on the wrestling squad—all big and handsome. I never thought he knew I was alive. But one day he stopped me after geometry. He needed better grades in order to stay on the team and graduate. Same old story: I understood all the theorems, angles, and shit, and he didn’t.

He was one smooth operator. He came up to me at lunch after class and asked if he could sit with me. Believe it or not, I was pretty shy back then; I couldn’t believe he was talking to me, much less asking to eat lunch with me. He chatted, told jokes, and made me feel good. He worked for over a week tearing my barriers down. Then he asked me if I would help him in geometry. I was so happy to have someone like Peter Miller paying attention to me that I would have done pretty much anything for him at that point.

We never met up in school; instead, we went to his house or the public library’s private community room. His mom was very sweet and always treated me nicely. This went on for all of wrestling season and straight through to February. I went to all his matches and watched him wrestle, but never talked to him there. He didn’t want anyone to know a sophomore tutored him, so we kept our “relationship” on the down low.

It made me jealous to see all those senior girls hanging all over him in the hall and at his matches. But I knew I meant more to him than they did. He told me things when we were alone—some of his innermost secrets—and I shared mine with him.

One day during our tutoring session, Peter’s mother had to take his younger brother to the doctor and left us there by ourselves. I didn’t think anything of it, because he had always been a perfect gentleman when we were together. About twenty minutes after she had gone, he offered me a soda and invited me up to his room to show off his numerous athletic awards.

In his room, I was reading the plaques on the wall when he turned on his stereo and moved up behind me.

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