Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you enjoy your present.
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Chapter 3 – Part 2
“Hey dad.”
Eleanor wasn’t in the mood to pick up the phone. She had already ignored two of her father’s calls. But when he tried to reach her a third time, she answered after all.
“How’s my girl? I tried twice already, but somehow the call didn’t get through.”
She felt bad for rejecting his calls. But she simply didn’t want to pretend she was doing fine.
“I’m fine. I was in a lecture, that’s why I couldn’t pick up.”
She was lying. Her last lecture had ended two hours before his first call.
“Are you sure? You sound a bit off to me.”
What was she supposed to say to that? ‘
I let my professor creampie my cunt because mom won’t pay for college anymore. Other than that, everything’s fine.’
“You’re on speaker, dad. That’s why I sound kind of distant. I’m doing the dishes while we’re talking.”
Eleanor stood at the sink. After coming home, she had taken a shower first and then put on new clothes. She was wearing comfortable jeans now. Somehow, she didn’t care for skirts much anymore. At the university, she had tried to clean herself up to the best of her ability in one of the women’s restrooms. But during her analysis lecture, she had been all too aware of the semen stains in her underwear, a constant reminder of the events in Professor Robertson’s office. She didn’t remember much of the lecture. The only thing on her mind was starting the washing machine once Eugene returned home and added his dirty clothes to the laundry. Hopefully, this would get rid of the last remaining evidence of what had happened.
“Oh, that must be it. Is Eugene there, too? Hey Eugene!”
She sighed. Her father didn’t quite understand that she and Eugene no longer shared the same daily routine now that they weren’t in school anymore. He wasn’t familiar with college life. Her father was a simple man. For the longest time, Eleanor didn’t understand what her mother must have seen in him. Only recently did she realize that the dominant aura her mother exuded simply had no effect on her father. Not because he was able to resist it better than other people. He just didn’t notice it in the first place. This must have fascinated and challenged her mother when she first met him. Of course, this was no foundation for a lasting relationship. When she was six years old, her parents got divorced and she decided to stay with her father. Eleanor believed that her mother had never forgiven her for choosing her father over her.
“Come on, dad. You know Eugene is in engineering. Our lectures barely overlap. He won’t be home for another hour.”
She was sure she had explained this more than once already.
“Right… So you’re doing the dishes alone? Don’t pamper his ass too much! A young man who moves out of his parents’ place has to learn that mom isn’t around to clean up after him anymore!”
Eleanor dried a few dishes, her thoughts elsewhere.
“Trust me, if anything, Eugene’s doing more chores than me.”
She could hear her father’s satisfied grunt through the phone. She didn’t need to see him to know he was giving Eugene an approving nod.
“Yeah, strange music aside, Eugene’s a good kid. So… uhh… how are things… between you two?”
The appeal of Babymetal, a Japanese kawaii metal band, was hard for her father to grasp.
“Still just friends, dad…”
Her dad had never played the kind of overly cautious father who scares off his daughter’s first boyfriends because he thought he needed to protect her from bad boys. On the contrary, he had always been kind to her exes. But when she had decided to share a small apartment with Eugene instead of moving into a dorm with some other girl, he was confused. It was hard for him to imagine that there were no romantic feelings involved in this arrangement.
“Hmm, just let me tell you, Eugene is one of the good ones! He won’t run off for the next pretty thing in a short skirt like Jeremy!”
Jeremy was Eleanor’s ex, who had cheated on her. Their conversation continued in a similar fashion for a few more minutes. As the conversation began to wind down, her father cleared his throat.
“Eleanor, I realize, you’re not really in the mood to talk right now, but…”
She had tried her best to engage in a normal conversation, but she had only answered his questions and barely said a word of her own.
“… we didn’t talk much these last few weeks. I just wanted you to know…”
Ever since her mother had cut her off, she had barely talked to her father. She simply couldn’t burden him with her financial worries. And so she had ended up avoiding him completely.
“… I get that you just moved out. I know what it’s like to be that age, and your old father being a nuisance while you’re busy exploring that new freedom. You can tell me if I’m calling or texting too much right now.”
The idea that he thought he was bothering her broke her heart.
“No, no… I… I’m sorry. I’ll call more often, I promise.”
She wished she could tell him the truth. But what would he think of her if she told him that she had slept with her professor in exchange for a job and a scholarship? What daughter could tell her father that she was having sex for money like that?
“Okay, good… then… let’s talk soon, alright? I’m proud of you! I love you!”
It didn’t come naturally to her father to express his feelings so openly. He preferred to show his affection through actions: helping her move, carrying furniture, coming to her fights, picking her up in the middle of the night. That was his love language. But when he had realized that Eleanor wouldn’t get to hear ‘I love you.’ from her mother either, he made an effort to say what she meant to him more often.
“Talk soon, dad. I love you too!”
The call was over. She held the last glass that still needed drying in her hand. Without warning, she began to shake. She was home, she was safe. Somehow, she had even managed to get through that call she had tried to avoid. Suddenly, every breath felt heavy. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. She took a step back and sat down on the kitchen table, still trembling. Then she felt it, him, his penis, a sudden flash. Professor Robertson was inside her again, coming. Her eyes flew open. Panicking, she looked down. There was nothing, just the jeans she had put on. Then she screamed. She hurled the glass in her hand at the image of Robertson in her mind. It crashed against the kitchen door, bursting into pieces scattered on the floor.
After her sudden emotional outburst in the kitchen, Eleanor had fled to her bedroom. She had only meant to lie down for five minutes before returning to the kitchen to clean up the mess. But forty-five minutes had already passed, and she was still lying on her bed in grey pyjamas, staring at the ceiling. It was barely 8 p.m. but she couldn’t bring herself to get back up again.
Why had she suddenly been so scared? The sex with Professor Robertson hadn’t been fun, but why should it have been? She had traded sex for his support. This had never been about pleasure to begin with, so why lament the lack of it now? Or was she just shocked to learn that she was willing to engage in an arrangement like that? Trading sex for benefits. She’d never imagined herself as someone who would do something like that.
She heard the front door being opened. Her heart rate accelerated. She suddenly became very alert.
“Chokorēto Chokorēto Cho! Cho! Cho! Ii ka na? Demo ne chotto weight Chotto saikin shinpai nandesu“
Immediately, her heart calmed down again. Eugene’s earnest but questionable interpretation of the Japanese lyrics relaxed her. She couldn’t hear the song directly, but Eugene’s butchered American cover version was enough for her to recognize it. She adored and envied him for how shameless he was in the pursuit of even his nerdiest hobbies.
“Eleanor?!“
He called for her, but she didn’t reply. Instead, she pretended to be asleep. She could hear him humming the melodies of some songs on his playlist. Next, she noticed the sound of the washing machine springing to life. Then she followed the rhythm of his steps to the kitchen, where he came to a sudden halt. A few seconds of silence, then a sequence of hasty steps closing in on her bedroom. He flung the door open.
“Ele…“
Under normal circumstances, he didn’t barge into her bedroom like this, but would have knocked first. His relieved sigh was very audible. He stepped next to the bed and carefully placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Eleanor, wake up.”
She opened her eyes and looked at him. The soft pressure of his hand was comforting to her. Before he could pull his hand back, she put hers on his.
“Why are you already in bed? And what happened in the kitchen?”
She couldn’t really explain to him why she had thrown the glass against the door.
“I dropped a glass while doing the dishes and I wanted to clean it up… but I must have dozed off.”
She didn’t make any sense and Eugene’s skeptical face made it very clear that he wasn’t buying this half-hearted attempt at an explanation.
“You dropped it? If I had to guess, I’d say you smashed it against the door with a baseball bat…?”
Eugene was trying to sound casual rather than accusatory, but the worry and confusion in his voice still came through. She had to tell him something that made sense.
“My mother called…”
The look of confusion on his face turned into sad recognition. She felt the warm fingers on her shoulder slightly tightening their grip as if he wanted to make sure that his soothing presence didn’t go unnoticed. She snuggled her cheek against his tender hand. The tips of her fingers brushed over the back of his hand, urging him to stay with her.
“I thought you had decided not to pick up anymore when she called again…?”
He was right. She had made that resolution.
“I know… but she’s still my mother… I thought, just maybe, she might have accepted my decision to study math after all.”
Another lie, but a plausible one this time. Eugene didn’t doubt her, not for a second.
“And what did she want?”
On the one hand, she felt bad for lying to Eugene. They had always been honest with each other. On the other hand, she’d tell him whatever was necessary to stay with her right now.
“Nothing… our fight simply didn’t matter to her anymore. It didn’t even come up. I think in her mind, I made a decision between her support and what I wanted, and now there is just nothing left to talk about. She... just moved on.”
Eugene closed his eyes, letting the air escape his lungs slowly. She knew that he had just swallowed a strong insult for her mother.
“I hung up, and then I got so angry I threw the glass against the door… Sorry…”
Even that was only half true. She couldn’t care less about the glass. But she was truly sorry for how much she had worried Eugene.
“Scoot over.”
She did as he had asked, making some space on the bed for him. As he was about to lie down next to her, he pulled his hand back. His fingers had barely lost contact with her shoulder when she grabbed his hand instinctively, desperate to keep it close. Eugene stopped for a moment, looking at her with surprise. Then he gave her a reassuring smile, gently squeezed her hand, and lay down next to her with her hand in his.
“Eleanor, I have a confession to make.”
She frowned and turned her head to him. His gaze was still fixed on the ceiling.
“What…?”
She didn’t have the faintest idea what he was about to say. Then he turned his head too, and his kind blue eyes looked straight into hers.
“I think… I don’t like your mother.”
She let go of his hand and turned on her side, burying her face in his shoulder. Her palm came to rest on his chest while her body trembled from suppressed laughter.
“You’re so dumb!”
Her laughter slowly subsided. She bathed her body in his warmth, her fingers clinging to the fabric of his shirt, her head coming to rest over his heart. His pulse offered a steady, comforting rhythm she could sink into. His fingers followed a slow, predictable path, starting with a gentle stroke through her hair and then down her neck and back. He kept repeating the same tender motion over and over again. Her hand on his chest relaxed, her breathing became calm, and tears welled in her eyes. ‘
Please, don’t stop being kind to me,’ she thought.
Then she felt his fingers return to her neck and her body reminded her without warning of Robertson’s hand just before he had kissed her for the first time. Her eyes opened wide, her body tensed. She awaited the return of his fingers to her neck with bated breath. And when it happened… it felt good. The memory of Robertson’s fingers pulling her face into his was washed away by Eugene’s undemanding touch, and two silent tears of pure relief flowed down her cheeks.
She wanted to feel more of Eugene’s touch. She wanted him to use his tender hands to paint over more of the memories of the events in Robertson’s office. He granted part of her wish. She sensed him stroking her arm, his fingers caressing her cheek. Her own fingers started to slowly draw small circles on his chest. Under normal circumstances, Eugene was just Eugene to her. But huddled up close to his body like this, wrapped in his soothing warmth, breathing in his scent, her fingers tracing the muscles on his chest… she became aware of his masculinity. Eugene was an inch taller than her, and while he didn’t train nearly as much as she did, he did keep in shape. Sometimes they went to the gym together. But Eleanor was convinced that he was more interested in running into Claire there than actually working out with her.
Eleanor didn’t know what Eugene thought, but she was sure that he didn’t care much about how others perceived his masculinity. For some, the loving care he showed her might stand in contrast to an idea of male confidence that was expressed through dominance. But in that moment, she found the tender protection offered by his strong embrace much more attractive than the possessive touch she had experienced in Robertson’s office. His appreciative hands gave her back the dignity that Robertson’s penis had taken from her. She wanted to feel more of Eugene. She wanted him to appreciate all of her body like he had done with her hair, her neck, her shoulders, her arms and her back.
Eleanor draped one of her legs over his. For a moment, she could hear his heart beating faster. Then she lifted her head off his chest and let her nose and mouth slide over his shoulder to his neck. She pressed her lips gently against his skin, opening her mouth to give him a tender, ghostlike kiss. She continued tickling his neck with her nose.
“Eleanor…?“
The tone of his voice no longer reflected his earlier confidence. He was still holding her, but his embrace had lost its naturalness and felt suddenly more charged.
“Pssst…“
Eleanor urged him to stay silent. She pushed herself further onto him until she straddled him. She took Eugene’s right hand and placed it on her left breast, directly above her heart. With her right hand, she stroked his cheek. Eugene’s confusion had only grown.
“Where… where are we going with this?”
Eleanor closed her eyes, unwilling to confront the uncertainty on his face. After coming home, she had taken a brief look at her naked body before she stepped into the shower. Robertson had dug his hands with such force into her breasts that she was convinced she’d see the imprints of his fingers for days. In the mirror though, her breasts looked perfectly normal. But the memory of his forceful grip stayed with her. Eugene would never touch her like that. His hand rested where Eleanor had placed it. It didn’t move at all. Why did he have to question this moment? Why could he not just surrender to it? Anger started to take hold of her.
“Doesn’t it feel good for you?”
Eleanor opened her eyes again and looked straight at him. She began to lower her body, inching closer to his face.
“That’s… not the point.”
The closer she got, the harder it became even for Eugene to deny that she was about to kiss him. Up to this point, he had not moved of his own volition at all. But now he put his free hand on her shoulder, stopping her from getting even closer. The strength and pressure behind his hand made his intent very clear. She took her hand from his cheek and let it rest on his chest. She paused her advance, unsure how to continue, and lowered her gaze to his stomach instead. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. Why did he make this so complicated? She wanted to feel his loving touch, and in exchange he got to sleep with her. After everything she had learned about herself today, this was who she was: someone who traded sex for benefits.
“Please, don’t stop being kind to me.“
With her voice about to break, she begged him softly. Eugene’s hand on her shoulder relaxed. He was still irritated, but he spoke with a voice full of compassion when he responded.
“You do realize I don’t expect anything in return for comforting you… right?”
Why didn’t he understand that stroking her hair wasn’t enough? There was so much dirt left to clean off her body, so many spots he had never touched before. Her hand traveled further down his body. She was gripping his hand against her breast tightly now, desperately urging it to grab, squeeze, or stroke, to do anything but just lie there. But Eugene kept talking.
“And… and if you truly want us to be more than friends…”
She didn’t care what he had to say. She just wanted to feel more of him.
“… how about we talk about that first…?
Her fingers were brushing over his stomach, inching ever closer to his crotch. She could feel his muscles tense, his fingers reflexively gripping her boob, if only for a moment. She was close to her goal now.
“Stop! That’s enough!”
Undeterred by his words, her hand finally found his crotch. But the contact lasted only a moment, just long enough for her to notice that he wasn’t hard at all. Then he tore his hand off her chest, put it on her shoulder just like the other one, and used all his strength to push her off his body. Eleanor didn’t expect this. She was about to fall onto the mattress, back first. But she caught herself with her hands. Eugene hurried to pull his legs free from under her butt. Then he jumped out of the bed and dashed to the door, where he came to a halt.
“What the fuck is wrong with you today?!”
Eugene shouted at her. His usual kindness was nowhere to be found in his voice. Eleanor was horrified by herself.
“Eugene, I didn’t want to…”
He interrupted her.
“You didn’t want what?! Grab my dick? Didn’t feel like an accident to me!”
Of course he was right. This wasn’t an accident.
“God, Eleanor…”
He buried his face in his hands and let out a long, disappointed sigh.
“I shared with you, and only you, what that asshole did to me…”
Eleanor’s eyes opened wide. Eugene had confided in her that his basketball coach had abused him when he was 12. And now she had groped his crotch against his will.
“… and now you’re pulling this kind of bullshit.”
She was disgusted by herself. What had gotten into her?
“Eugene, I’m so sorry!”
She was about to leave the bed, wanting to close the distance to him. But her feet couldn’t even hit the floor before Eugene interrupted her again.
“Stay where you are!”
This hurt. The mere idea that Eugene might be afraid of her was unbearable for her. He had been so kind to her, and in turn she had violated his trust. She froze, sitting still on the bed, begging him with pleading eyes.
“I have no idea what’s going on with you. But this? This isn’t you!”
She was unable to look at him any longer and lowered her gaze. He was simply right. Even in his anger, he treated her more kindly than she deserved. Eugene took a deep breath and forced himself to speak calmly.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, not today. I need to be alone for a while.”
He left, pulling the door only halfway shut behind him. Eleanor just sat on the bed with slumped shoulders and downcast eyes. How could she have done something like this to him? She fell back onto the bed, hiding her face in her pillow.
“
This isn’t you!”
Eugene’s words reverberated in her mind. If he was correct… If trading sex for benefits was not something she did… then what had happened in Robertson’s office? The undeniable truth about her sex with Professor Robertson began to take root in her mind despite her best efforts to reframe it in more bearable terms. She cried desperate tears into her pillow. Through the half open door, she could hear Eugene sweep up the broken glass in the kitchen. Meanwhile, she wished for nothing more than for him to come back and hold her.
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I hope you enjoyed the chapter! This last scene between Eleanor and Eugene is likely to this day the most complex piece of character psychology I tried my hands at to this day. Writing the German original back then was incredibly difficult. And revisiting the chapter in depth for the translation made me relive some of the emotional heaviness of the chapter.
On an unrelated note: I think I will create a post soon that goes into the details of the translation process. Maybe a few of you will find that interesting.
So I thought it would be interesting to have Anthony feel totally baffled by his body as if he was 16 again.
