The Space Between Us (3 page)

That’s right. Mama Murphy paid me to divest her darling twins of their virginity. It didn’t start out that way, of course. I mean, I had every intention of teaching them calculus. I needed the money and wasn’t afraid to insist that Mrs. Eugene Murphy pay me twice the normal rate because I’d be teaching two instead of one, even though she tried to convince me that it wasn’t the cost per individual that should count, but the total amount of time spent.

“And since you’re teaching them both at the same time,” she had reasoned, “I should pay you the regular rate.”

“They’re not the same person,” I’d pointed out to her, standing my ground.

“But they’re twins!”

I’d only raised an eyebrow, as I recall. She’d taken in my long denim skirt, the black, knee-high Doc Martens, my dyed-black hair. I guess to her I was sort of scary looking.

“You did come highly recommended by the school guidance counselor.” She’d sounded doubtful.

“I’ll make sure Chase and Chance pass their finals with A’s, or your money back.”

It was done. She paid me every week. I made good on my promise.

It didn’t start out as a fuckfest. If anything, the brothers were pains in the ass to teach. They didn’t like calculus. Worse, they didn’t care about it. They were both doing poorly enough that it was threatening their place on the school team. They still didn’t care. Calculus was for douche bags, according to the brothers Murphy.

But like I said, I needed the money. There was no way I was going to let them get away with anything less than what I’d promised their mother. I could never have paid her back—I’d already spent everything she’d given me on clothes and books and music, the necessities of life.

“If you learn this—” it was the first offer I made them “—I’ll blow you.”

This stopped their stupid scribbling and wiggling around in their seats like puppies that couldn’t be made to sit. Both of them had looked up at me, eerily simultaneous. They weren’t the same person, but they did have a way of moving or saying the same thing at the same time. They were connected, no doubt about it.

“Get the fuck out,” Chase said.

“No fucking way,” Chance said.

“I will blow you both,” I told them, putting my hands flat on the table and leaning over it to look them in the eye, one at a time. I can’t remember which one I looked at first. I didn’t think it mattered then, but it would. “I will make you both come so hard you see stars.”

I would never be a teacher, had never even dreamed of it as a career, but one thing I’d learned about teaching was the effectiveness of positive reinforcement.

That was how it started. They finished their work in record time, and, aside from a few simple mistakes, correctly. As with most things in life, getting the Murphy boys to learn calc was a matter of simple motivation. I wanted them to get A’s, and they wanted my mouth on their dicks.

It wasn’t until they both dropped trou that I started thinking I might actually be getting the better end of the deal. I’d never thought much of Chase and Chance as boyfriend material. For one, they seemed sort of a package deal, despite my insistence to their mother they were two separate people. Two, they were a real pair of Weasleys, my very own Fred and George. Dark auburn hair with the pale skin to match, dark brown eyes. The freckles on their noses might’ve seemed a little Howdy Doody, but when Chase and Chance both pushed their jeans and briefs around their ankles, the only wooden puppet I thought about was the stiff, thick branches of their not-quite-identical cocks. I didn’t know at the time they’d never been with a girl before. All I saw was beauty.

And I was greedy for it.

I made them stand shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. I got on my knees in front of them. The carpet in their parents’ finished basement was thick and soft, a perfect cushion. I took them each in a hand. I slicked them with my spit. I took the first one in my mouth, and then the other. I do remember who was first, because I was looking up at him when I did it. He was looking down.

It was Chase, though it should’ve been his brother, since I picked him totally by chance. Later it would make a difference, but at the time I don’t think any of us cared. I slid his thick, pretty cock as far as I could into my mouth, and sucked, while I used my hand to stroke up and down his brother’s prick.

Both of them groaned at the same time. They sounded the same. They looked the same. In another second I discovered they tasted the same, too.

If I could’ve taken them both in my mouth at the same time, I’d have done it. As it was, they had to be satisfied with my equal but back-and-forth attention. And at the end of it, wanting to watch them both when they came, I left off the use of my lips and teeth and tongue to lean back and finish them with my hands. They shot within seconds of each other, spurting onto their flat, rippled bellies. Both of them had closed their eyes, heads bent. Mouths I would later learn were talented with kissing and licking and sucking were lax and open with their moans.

Chase was the one who looked at me first. His hand, which had been gripping the table behind him, the one on which we’d spent hours scribbling equations, loosened its grasp and stroked along my hair. His thumb passed over my lower lip, which felt swollen and wet. He blinked slowly, as if waking from some dream he didn’t want to leave.

“Fucking hell,” Chance had said, breaking the moment. “That was awesome.”

That was just the first time.

Chapter 3

“W
ow,” Meredith said when I’d finished. “That is…”

I didn’t really want her to say crazy. It couldn’t dilute what had happened, couldn’t make it something it wasn’t, but still. I didn’t want her to say it like that.

“Fucking supernova hot,” Meredith said.

I flushed, heat creeping up my throat and down lower. I hadn’t told her the rest of it, but I thought I might, if she asked me. All about that long fall with the brothers Murphy, the three of us graduating from simultaneous blow jobs to cunnilingus and every combination of fucking that two cocks and a pussy can get into. It was over by Christmas.

“It’s absolutely not what I thought you’d say,” she told me with a shake of her head. “Wow. Not at all.”

“What did you think I’d say?” I’d finished my chai and break time was over, but I was curious exactly what she’d thought she knew about me.

“I told you. Hidden treasures.”

I blinked slowly under the heat of her gaze. She’d kissed a girl, sure, but what did that mean? Nothing.

There’s never any point in flirting with straight girls, you understand. Not even the “curious” ones. Straight girls have come to the conclusion that it’s perfectly okay to make out with their bestie on the dance floor as a way to get guys’ attention, or because they’re drunk, or because it’s trendy. Straight girls know that unless you eat pussy you’re just experimenting, and even if you do go down on another girl it doesn’t mean you’re a dyke.

I’m not a straight girl.

I’m not a queer girl, either. I guess you could say I’m sexually fluid. Love comes in all shapes and flavors, and I just want to be able to taste them all. But if there’s anything I learned from working at Morningstar Mocha, where the coffee flowed like Niagara Falls and waistbands expanded just by coming within a few feet of the dessert case, it’s that wanting and having are two different things.

“It was a long time ago.” I sounded lame.

“Can’t have been that long ago,” she pointed out, sounding wry. “You’re barely out of high school.”

I laughed. “Hardly. I’m twenty-six.”

“A baby,” she said, but fondly. “An experienced baby.”

Age didn’t mean much to me. “I have to get back to work. Darek’s giving me that desperate look that means someone’s ordered a drink he doesn’t know how to make.”

“Tesla to the rescue. You’d better go help him then. Anyway, I need to get going. I have some things to do.” Meredith gave another of her low, sultry laughs that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

We both stood at the same time. She’d been coming in here for months, but today was the first day she’d ever hugged me. For the first few seconds, standing startled in her embrace, I didn’t know what to do. She’d moved closer, and the smell of her was exotic and expensive and subtle. Her arms went around me, pulling me closer. Her sweater was soft on my skin, her hands warm on my back between my shoulder blades. We stood chest to chest and crotch to crotch for the span of half a heartbeat.

By the time I’d relaxed into her touch, closed my eyes and breathed in the deliciousness of her, it was over, except for the lingering heat in my ear from her breath where she’d whispered a goodbye, and the tingle in my cheek where I might’ve only imagined she brushed her lips.

“Tesla?” Eric said this from his place in front of the self-serve station, shaking me out of what must’ve been quite a show of shock. Meredith had already left the shop, the bell on the door jingling behind her. Eric cocked his head to give me the once-over. “You okay?”

“Oh, sure. Fine. Of course.” I held out my hand for his empty mug. “You finished? I’ll take it up for you.”

He looked amused. “Nah. Gonna have another, if that’s okay with you.”

I laughed, embarrassed that I was so out of sorts by something so simple as a hug that had lasted less than a couple of seconds. “Of course. Drink away. If you don’t, someone else will.”

“Isn’t that always how it goes?” He lifted the mug at me.

Then he turned to fill it with another round of coffee, Darek meeped out a cry for help up at the counter, and I got back to work.

Chapter 4

W
hen I got home from work, the house was unusually silent, with no sign of anyone else. Normally I’d have sent out a not-so-quiet little hoot of bliss—I loved the people I lived with, but also craved having, and hardly ever got, the house to myself. Tonight, though, I was totally bummed to come home with not even the porch light left on to welcome me. No dinner, either, and that was worse. I made myself a tuna sandwich with a side of mac-n-cheese, because there really is nothing better than that. Unless it’s hot dogs with mac-
n-cheese, and sadly, we were out of hot dogs.

I couldn’t help wondering what they’d gotten up to, those Murphy boys. The memory of them was a small, sore spot in my brain I worried once in a while the way I’d have done with a slice in my gum from flossing too hard. But my thoughts of Chase and Chance hadn’t been close to the surface in a long time. Time has that funny way of smoothing out the rough edges of things, even ones that hurt a little bit. Or a lot.

“You’re a user, Tesla,” Chance had said to me the last time we’d been together. “Nothing but a user.”

It wasn’t true—I was more than a user. I was a lot of things we were too young and dumb to understand. And when he’d said it to me, I’d turned my back and walked away, burning with the self-righteous fury of being maligned. Now, with time and distance and experience between us, I understood why Chance had felt that way.

I hadn’t heard anything about them in years, though it would’ve been easy enough to find out what they’d been up to. My brother, Cap, three years younger, would probably know. I’d had friends; Cap had been popular. Football player, stage crew, homecoming king, voted Funniest in the yearbook. He’d had a good enough time in high school that he kept in touch with buddies from back then. Not that he’d been friends with the Murphys, but he could find out.

Calling my brother to get intel on a pair of guys I’d had sex with was right up there with walking in on your parents fucking. I mean, that had happened to me, but it wasn’t something I either wanted to think about or dwell on. Cap was probably the only other person who knew about me and the Murphys, but just because he’d known about it back in the day didn’t mean he’d be down for discussing it now.

So, because even monkeys have been known to use tools, I turned to what I had on hand. The internet. My laptop had crapped out on me a few months ago, and I hadn’t seen the way to buying a new one. Not until I’d saved up enough to get the biggest, fastest, sweetest Mac I could afford, which was going to take me a long time unless I could get over my addiction to cute retro clothes and glittery eyeliner. That didn’t seem likely. Until then, I checked email and stuff from my phone and used the ancient desktop upstairs.

I’d set up my own user account on the desktop not so much because I wanted to look at things little kids shouldn’t see, but to prevent them from messing up anything I’d saved. At four, Simone could expertly wend her way through the labyrinth of online kiddie games, but she also had a quick-draw delete finger. I’d lost documents and important emails more than once. Her brother, Max, at two and a half, was more likely to simply pound a bunch of keys, making the computer perform any number of wacky functions we had no idea it could do, and that it probably wasn’t meant to.

Since nobody had come home yet, I didn’t have to worry a lot about being pestered to look at videos of cute pets or play an educational game with colors so bright they made my eyes bleed. I didn’t have to be careful about little eyes watching over my shoulder as I glanced through the pictures posted to my Connex friend feed. Meredith had been wrong when she said I didn’t have to answer to anyone. I lived with four other people, one of whom would hand my ass to me on a plate if I exposed his kids to junk they shouldn’t see.

Stalking people on Connex is supereasy if they’re not concerned enough to make sure they tick off all the appropriate privacy controls. I don’t have my account on lockdown because I never upload any pictures or anything too private that I don’t want the world to see. Besides, I want people to be able to find me. That’s what it’s for, right?

I found the brothers Murphy with only a few keystrokes. They both belonged to a fan group for our graduating class. I hadn’t joined. In their profile pictures they looked less alike than they ever had. Still tall and lanky, but time had put weight on them both, and it suited them.

Chance was married. Two small kids. I surfed his photos, feeling only vaguely creepy about it. He was living in Ohio, working for some accounting firm. He had a beautiful family and appeared happy. My cursor hovered over the Add Friend button, but I didn’t click it. I was happy to see Chance looked like he had a good life, but I didn’t feel any need to be even a peripheral part of it.