The Fantasy Files Friday's Links Awards ASSTR Donations

The Fantasy Files

Point Of View 2: Amy's Return

© 2003 by Girl Friday

This story is a continuation of a story I wrote earlier called Point Of View. If you haven't read it yet, please do so before reading this. Don't worry, the original isn't very long. You can read it here:

Point Of View

This sequel was inspired by the song: I Drove All Night, recorded by Cyndi Lauper.

At first, life in San Francisco had been different and exciting. The Golden Gate Bridge, cable cars, museums, shopping around Union Square; I explored it all eagerly. I even enjoyed the fog, if you can believe it -- growing up in the desert makes fog pretty rare. I loved sitting in Golden Gate Park with my favorite book and watching the world go by. Little by little, that all changed as reality started to set in.

My dream job was a joke. What was supposed to have been the opportunity of a lifetime was in actual fact little more than modern-day slavery. A work day that never ended, a salary that was pitiful when compared to the cost-of-living and a boss without a personal life who expected the same from me; I was miserable.

More and more, I found my thoughts returning to Bend, Oregon, and the people I had left behind. I missed my family and my friends. Fourteen months and I still hadn't gone home for a visit. I knew when I went home it would be for good and my pride wasn't ready to admit defeat yet.

But that wasn't the only reason.

I was afraid of running into Curt. How could I face him again after the way I had treated him? Afraid he was with me for the wrong reasons, I had given up the only man I had ever loved. It was my own fault. I was the one who ended it. I didn't think I could stand to go home and see Curt with someone else. It was just easier to hide in San Francisco, lonely and miserable.

I was eating lunch at my desk when my telephone started ringing. I looked at the caller ID and smiled.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hello, Baby Girl. How are you today?"

I grimaced at my mother's pet name for me. At 24, I was a little old to be called 'Baby Girl' but Mom would never change. I listened with half an ear as I continued to eat my lunch while she rambled about home and caught me up on the local gossip.

"Mom, I've got to go. My lunch break is almost over. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Amy, wait! Don't hang up, I need to talk to you." Something in her tone warned me I wasn't going to like what she had to say.

"Curt's house is on the market and his truck is for sale."

The phone dropped from my suddenly nerveless fingers and hit my desk with a loud thud. The truck had been a gift to Curt from his parents on his sixteenth birthday. Curt and I made love for the first time in that truck. There was no way he would ever sell it unless he had given up on me.

"Amy? Amy! Are you there?"

I could hear my mom's voice coming from the handset lying on the desk. It took me two tries to pick it up and speak.

"Mom, is there someone else?"

"I don't know sweetheart. I haven't seen him with anyone around town, but it's obvious he's moving so I don't know."

Still reeling, I couldn't get my mind to focus on anything except Curt. I had to tell him how I felt and pride be damned.

"I'm coming home, Mom. I'll be on the road by 4 o'clock."

"Amy, you can't. It's a 10 hour drive, minimum. Why don't you wait and come home tomorrow?"

"I've already waited too long. I have to talk to Curt."

I hung up on my mother's protests and started making plans. My first task was to get rid of this miserable job. I cleaned out my desk and told my boss I was done. He was pissed, but I walked out of his office while he was still ranting. Time was slipping through my fingers and I wasn't waiting for him to stop yelling. My next stop was the bank and then my apartment.

The bank was relatively fast, not that I had much to withdraw. Traffic in the city made the drive back to my apartment feel endless. Parking was the usual nightmare. Now that I was leaving, everything bad about San Francisco seemed to grate on my nerves and I couldn't wait to be gone.

Once I got home I threw my clothes into bags haphazardly and tried to gather the few belongings I had collected in the past year. My roommate wandered in just as I was taking the last load to my car. I explained the situation as I handed her two months rent and my keys. Technically, I should have put it in writing, but since I was handing over the rent, she decided to let me slide and wished me well.

I rolled out of the city, headed for I-5 around 4:30 p.m. Cursing the traffic one last time, I headed north and prayed for an easy drive. I turned on the radio and started to sing along, remembering how Curt had come into my life.

His family moved to Bend when I was 11. His sister, Heather, was the new girl in my class when I started sixth grade. She had short, black hair, emerald green eyes and a smile that was infectious. She sat next to me and started talking; I don't think she ever shut up. She kept up a running monologue under her breath even while the teacher was explaining something. She cracked me up and I got sent to the Principal's office. Heather met me at the door when I came out and told him it was her fault. That sealed the deal. We were best friends from that moment on.

The next weekend she invited me for a sleepover where I met her parents and her older brother, Curt. He was 14, and a freshman in high school, with the same black hair and green eyes that made Heather stand out. Most 14 year old boys wouldn't be caught dead hanging around their 11 year old sisters, but Curt doted on Heather and she worshipped him.

He spent most of the night with us, joking around and playing Monopoly while we watched movies on TV. Before the end of the night, I had my first case of puppy love and he had adopted me as another little sister. We spent the next few years just being kids, messing around, talking, and getting into trouble. I got over my crush on Curt pretty quickly and we settled into a comfortable friendship. On the other hand, Heather and I were always together. My dad called us 'The Twins' even though nothing could be further from the truth. With my straight, blonde hair and blue eyes I looked nothing like Heather, but the name stuck and soon everyone called us that.

On his 16th birthday, Curt's parents gave him a used Ford pickup. He loved that truck and worked on it endlessly until it was in perfect condition. Heather and I begged him to take us everywhere and like a good sport, he did. It didn't hurt that he started working part-time with my dad on our ranch. He'd just bring Heather along and we'd do our own thing while he was working.

When he graduated from high-school, Curt came to work with my dad full-time while taking some classes at the local community college. At 15, Heather and I were just discovering boys, clothes, and makeup. It was only natural that we didn't spend as much time with Curt anymore. After Heather got a car for her 16th birthday, I hardly saw him at all. She'd come pick me up and we'd go to the movies, the library, and just cruise around for hours.

But that all changed shortly after I turned 17.

We were headed home after seeing a movie. It was dark and Heather wasn't feeling well. I offered to drive us home but she said it was just a headache and refused to let me drive. We were halfway home when the world exploded.

I pulled off the road in Redding. I needed a break before driving through the Siskiyou Pass. Thinking about the accident that killed Heather always upset me. That had been seven years ago and there wasn't a day that went by when I didn't think of her. It was just in the past few years that I could remember Heather and not cry. Glancing at my watch only increased my sense of urgency to get home. I drained my coffee and got back on the highway.

I couldn't remember anything of the accident. My parents told me an elderly man had a heart attack and crossed into our lane, hitting the driver's side of Heather's car head on. She was killed instantly.

Something inside me died when they told me about Heather. I didn't cry. I couldn't. Everything inside of me was frozen solid. I stopped talking, simply nodding yes or no to questions and ignoring anything I couldn't answer that way. I didn't want to talk to anyone but Heather and that was impossible.

My parents forced me to go back to school, hoping that would snap me out of my depression. Instead I only withdrew further into my shell. My parents yelled, they cajoled, they ordered, they begged, but nothing they did made any difference.

It was Curt who broke through.

I was sitting in my room, just sitting there doing nothing, when Curt opened my door and walked in. He had changed. His face was leaner and his eyes held the same grief I saw each day in the mirror.

"Amy, you can't hide in here forever."

I closed my eyes against the sadness in his tone.

"God damn it, Heather died. You didn't. She wouldn't want you to sit in this room for the rest of your life."

I covered my ears with my hands. I didn't want to hear it. I could ignore my parents and my friends, but I couldn't shut Curt out. I could feel the ice starting to crack.

The next thing I knew I was in Curt's arms as he carried me from the room. Striding past my resolute parents, Curt nodded once to my father and continued on out the front door. He tossed me into the cab of his truck and then climbed in behind me, pushing me over to the passenger side. I curled up against the door as Curt pulled out onto the highway.

Ten minutes later we pulled up in front of a junkyard. I looked at Curt in confusion.

"You need to see this."

Tugging my hand, he got me out of the truck and walked me into the junkyard. He led me to a twisted pile of metal sitting off by itself. Something about it seemed familiar but I couldn't figure out why. As we got closer, it hit me. This was Heather's car.

I looked at it in horror and turned to run. Curt was right behind me and caught me in his arms. I struggled against Curt, trying to get away, but he forced me to turn around and look at what was left of Heather's car.

"Look at it, Amy. That's what they pulled you out of. We lost Heather, we can't lose you too."

I looked at the remains and started to shake. Curt held me and kept talking to me softly about how much his parents missed me and needed to see me. How he missed me. Why I couldn't keep hiding in my room. Why I had to start speaking again.

While Curt talked, images started to flash across my mind. Heather and me laughing as we ate french fries at McDonalds. Singing along to the radio as we headed home from school. Lying on the hood of her car as we looked at the stars and talked about our dreams -- the same hood that was now a twisted piece of scrap metal. The tears started to roll down my face. I couldn't hold it in any longer.

The floodgates opened and I started to sob wildly. Curt scooped me up and carried me back to his truck as I sobbed. Pulling me into his lap, he cuddled me and stroked my hair softly as I cried for Heather. Once I started I didn't think I could stop. I continued to cry until my throat was raw and my stomach hurt. Curt's hands caressed my back as my sobs died off and I tried to pull myself together.

I had cried so long that the sun had set and the stars were starting to shine in the night sky. I looked at Curt and was surprised to see tears sliding silently down his face. When I thought about it, it made sense. She may have been my best friend, but Heather was Curt's sister; of course he was grieving too. Without thinking, I reached up and brushed the tears from his face. He smiled sadly and leaned down, dropping a soft brotherly kiss on my lips. As he pulled away my lips clung to his for just a brief second, but he noticed anyway. Looking at me quizzically, Curt lowered his mouth to mine once again.

Time seemed to stand still as his lips captured mine. This was no brotherly kiss. It was soft and tender, a gentle exploration as we acknowledged each other as male and female. I couldn't believe the sensations running through my body just from his kiss. Curt slowly retreated, kissing me again gently before sitting up. He slid me off his lap and buckled my seatbelt before starting the truck and pulling out onto the road.

"Curt, where are we going?" My voice was rough with disuse, but I managed to croak out the words. Curt glanced at me quickly and smiled as he squeezed my hand gently in his.

"Trust me."

I nodded in acceptance and enjoyed the feel of my hand in his. Fifteen minutes later we pulled onto the back acreage of my parents' horse ranch. It was a large flat area in the desert with a perfect view of the Three Sisters mountains.

We climbed into the bed of the truck and leaned our backs against the cab. It was so quiet there in the desert with the stars shining brightly overhead and the mountains in the distance. Neither one of us spoke, unwilling to break the mood.

Curt turned to me and cupped my face in his hands as he kissed me. He was gentle, teasing me softly to response. Once more I felt the tickle of desire deep down inside. Curt's lips trailed fire along my jaw and down my neck as he gathered me into his arms. I moaned softly and tangled my fingers in his hair as his lips settled over mine. More fireworks, like nothing I had ever felt before. Curt pulled away from me and looked deeply into my eyes. I could see the concern and the confusion in his.

"Amy, I can't do this. You're only 17, I'm 20. You've had an emotional day. I will not take advantage of you this way."

"Shhhh." I placed my fingertips against his lips. "This is what I want. I need to feel, Curt. I need to feel like there's a reason for all of this. You're the only one who understands how I feel. You loved her too. Please ... just kiss me again."

Taking matters into my own hands, I pulled him against me and flicked my tongue against his lips. He groaned as I kissed him and gently stretched me out in the bed of the truck, then settled his long, lean frame against mine.

"Amy, are you sure this is what you want?"

My eyes filling with tears once more, I could only nod as I reached up to unbutton his shirt. Curt stilled my shaking hands and gently began to remove my clothes, then his own. It wasn't like anything I had ever experienced before in my life. He was so gentle with me, licking my nipples and teasing my clit until I was begging him to complete me.

He positioned himself between my legs and slid into me, pausing when he hit my barrier. He looked at me in shock and tried to pull out. Grasping his hips, I slammed my body against his, ripping out my virginity before he could protest. Buried to the balls, Curt groaned and started to thrust, pulling me along on a wave of pleasure. Slow and steady, he brought me closer and closer to the brink. I couldn't take it anymore and began urging him to go faster, harder, moaning in pleasure. Groaning my name, Curt slammed into me, over and over, until I began to spasm and quake with release. I could feel Curt stiffen as his own orgasm began while mine still held me enthralled.

I looked at the clock on my dashboard and realized I had been on the road for more than ten hours already. The landscape was already starting to look familiar as I remembered the first time I made love with Curt. It had been wonderful as he had shown me many ways of giving and receiving pleasure.

We never talked about our feelings, it was just understood that we were together. College had been hard, because it took me away from Curt, but it was something I had to do. In the back of my mind I always wondered if he was with me because I was his link to Heather. I'd lived with that doubt for almost six years when I decided I'd had enough. I took that job in San Francisco then hunted Curt down at the rodeo to tell him.

I still can't believe I was that stupid. Hoping it wasn't too late, and fearing it was, I pushed the accelerator down and raced for home. I pulled into Curt's driveway less than an hour later. Sitting there was the dark gray pickup truck that meant so much to me. There was a 'For Sale' sign tossed carelessly in the front window on the dash. Mom had been right.

I walked around to the side door of the house and turned the knob. Just as I suspected, it was unlocked. I opened the door quietly and slipped into the house. Feeling my way upstairs was a challenge, but there was just enough moonlight to show me the way. Curt's room was at the top of the stairs with the door standing wide open. Stealthily, I made my way into the room and stood watching him sleep. Thanking the gods above that Curt was alone, I undressed and slipped into the bed beside him.

I couldn't resist touching him. My fingers moved over the smooth skin of his chest, and lower to the hard muscles of his abdomen. Curt shifted in his sleep and moved closer to me. I lowered my lips to his and kissed him softly. His eyelids fluttered open briefly, only to close as I kissed him again. This time he kissed me back, slowly, languidly, teasing and tasting my mouth. As the kiss ended, Curt's eyes opened again, this time with sleepy comprehension.

"Amy? Is it really you or am I dreaming again?"

"It's really me, Babe."

With a groan he gathered me in his arms and crushed me beneath him in a searing kiss. We made love like it was the first time, slow and tender. Exploring and rediscovering each other. When he finally entered me, I felt like I had come home -- and I knew I would never leave again.

When we had worn ourselves out, we snuggled close and talked -- really talked -- for the first time in years. I told him why I left, how I was scared that he was with me to keep Heather alive. He shook his head at me and smiled.

"Amy, it was always you. I've never loved anyone else. Heather's death was just the catalyst that brought us together. I promised you forever that day, Amy, and I meant it."

I looked at him in confusion. "But ... then why are you selling the truck?"

"I'm not selling the truck!" He seemed indignant at the very thought. "The house is for sale because I was coming to San Francisco. I realized you weren't coming home and I was going to move there to be with you, if you would have me. The truck is not for sale and never will be."

"You were coming to be with me?" Curt nodded silently and I felt my heart sing. "The truck has a 'For Sale' sign on the dash ..."

Curt looked puzzled for a minute before he laughed. "I sold the horse trailer. When the guy picked it up, I pulled the 'For Sale' sign off of it and threw it in the truck. Amy, that truck is ours. I'll never sell it. Is that why you're here all of a sudden?"

"Yes. Mom saw the sign and called me. I hung up the phone and packed everything I owned. I drove all night. I had to get to you and tell you I love you."

"Thank God for your mother. Welcome home, Sweetheart. I love you."

Curt lowered his lips to mine in a kiss that seemed to burn into my soul. He was right, I realized. I was home and this was where I'd belonged all along.

Isn't it amazing how three little words can change your point of view?


© 2003, all rights reserved.

The Fantasy Files Friday's Links Awards ASSTR Donations