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“Yeah.” Keith shivered. Thank God things had changed. “My sister and I were talking about it this morning. She thought Michael and I were having sex every chance we got. I told her the truth—when we got together, we were too freaking scared.”
Yuri stared at him. “So you weren’t physical?” He flushed. “Forget I asked. That was way too personal.”
Keith patted Yuri’s hand. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. In fact, you’re probably the only person I know in this place who I can talk to about these things.”
He smiled. “There is that, I suppose.”
“And to answer your question, do you really think two horny teenagers could ignore their urges for long?”
Yuri laughed. “So how long did you wait?”
Keith didn’t hesitate. “From that first kiss? About eight and a half months.”
Yuri widened his eyes. “Wow. I’m impressed.”
Keith studied him. “Do you remember your first time?” He stiffened. “Sorry. There I go making assumptions again. You could be celibate for all I know.”
Yuri chuckled. “Definitely not celibate. And yes, I remember. I think everyone remembers their first.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “I’d thought about it for so long, but when it actually happened?” He smiled. “It was better than I’d dreamed possible.”
Keith squeezed his hand. “I can relate to that.”
He’d dreamed of his and Michael’s first time too, fantasized about what it would be like, but that was all it was, a fantasy. Neither of them had gotten up enough nerve to suggest that they might actually have sex. And when the day came, Keith hadn’t seen it coming. Michael had chosen one of the most momentous days in modern history to lose their virginity.
A day Keith would never forget.
July 1985
Saturday, July 13, 1985
Keith knocked on the front door. If there was a record for the fastest breakfast, he figured he’d beaten it in his hurry to get to Michael’s house in time for the start of the concert at the JFK stadium. Except of course the Live Aid concert had started a couple of hours before in London. Once they’d learned about the event, Michael had researched how they’d get to witness it. For his eighteenth birthday July eleventh, he’d begged his mom to get him the special stereo receiver that would allow him to access MTV, who was broadcasting the entire concert.
A whole day of Michael and rock music. Heaven.
The door opened, and Ellen stood there, grinning. “You’re late, it’s already started.”
Keith rolled his eyes and stepped into the house. “He’s got it working?”
“That receiver thing? Sure. Except Mom’s made him set it up in the basement. She said she couldn’t put up with rock music all day long, so she’s letting him use the old TV set down there.” Ellen grinned. “She also says she’s gonna keep the door closed. Mom isn’t a fan of rock music.”
“Hi, Keith.” Michael’s mom emerged from the kitchen, holding a bucket. “I thought you might like these.”
He peered into it and broke into a smile when he saw the bottles of soda. “Aw thanks, Mrs. Rawlings.”
She made a clucking sound with her tongue. “How many times must I say this? Call me Isabelle. You’ve been coming to this house since you were how old? Mrs. Rawlings makes me feel ancient.”
He flushed. “It just feels weird, I guess. Sort of... impolite.”
She handed him the bucket. “That’s because your parents brought you up well.” She inclined her head toward the door under the stairs. “Michael’s already down there. I made sure you have plenty of snacks, and if you can drag your attention away from the TV, there’s stuff for sandwiches in the refrigerator. I won’t be around most of today, but you’re both old enough to feed yourselves.”
Keith bit his lip. “Have we driven you from the house?”
She laughed. “Bless you, no. Ellen and I are going to visit my mom.”
“Is Bill going too?”
Isabelle shook her head. “He’s at a business conference this weekend.” She narrowed her gaze. “Now, I’ll say the same to you as I said to Michael. No playing the TV so loud that the house shakes, okay? I don’t want the neighbors complaining either.”
“We’ll keep it at a decent level,” he promised.
