21. “Major Tom （Coming Home）”
Chapter 21
“Major Tom (Coming Home)”
Sascha - Age 18, 1988
I ’m dressed in a little black dress with a white collar. I’ve paired it with fishnet stockings and my Doc Martens. I feel like a sexy Wednesday Addams as I get set up for our performance tonight.
The end-of-year recital is the pinnacle of our year, the grand finale that we’ve been working toward for months. Yes, we play at football games and other small events, but this is just for us.
Despite our hard work, it’s no secret that our recitals are only attended by dutiful parents and proud grandparents. But to me, it matters—a chance to showcase our passion and dedication. I first picked up the flute at age nine, so this is the culmination of many years of dedication. Tonight is especially important for us seniors, who will likely never get a chance to perform like this again.
My parents sit in the bleachers, their faces alive with pride and happiness. My dad’s hands tightly grip a bouquet of blood-red roses, a tradition he has faithfully kept for every recital since my very first performance.
As I think about our small family traditions, I can’t help but be reminded of Michael and how he never had these same memories or experiences. A sense of melancholy washes over me, but it’s wiped away almost immediately by the sound of laughter rumbling into the space.
With a burst of energy and laughter, Michael, Corey, Landry, and the rest of the hockey team enter the building. As they stride confidently towards me, Michael's eyes meet mine, and he offers a genuine, warm smile along with a playful wink.
I feel my heart flutter as I realize he orchestrated this because I mentioned how no one bothers to attend these events. He listened to my words and took action. He heard me. I officially give up. My icy exterior is no match for this man.He’s officially won me over with his sense of humor, adoration, devotion to his grandmother, and loyalty to the people he cares about.
The guys stop briefly to say hello to Ivy and Kerri on their way up to the top of the stands, where some room remains.
I don’t miss how Corey looks at Ivy—full of love and amazement. That’s old news, though. What’s really fascinating is the way Landry turns bright red when he says hello to our new friend Kerri. Seems the big guy has a crush. Not that I can fault him for his choice. Kerri hasn’t lived here very long, and she’s already become an important part of our little group.
It couldn’t have been easy moving at the end of her senior year of high school, but she’s doing well here and blending right in. She hasn’t confided in anyone why she moved here when she did, but no one pushes her. It seems we all have our little secrets in this group.
Hailing from somewhere in Texas, she brings a touch of cowgirl charm to our diverse circle.
Talking to her is fascinating. I’ve never known anyone who works so closely with animals and knows how to manage a farm. She’s like a real life Disney Princess with her long strawberry blonde hair and a quiet timidness that only adds to her charm. And her accent is everything. I could listen to her talk about anything with that cute little twang.
Kerri and Ivy have been such a breath of fresh air for me this year. They are both down-to-earth, kind, and untainted by their own beauty. The way the guys stare at them reminds me that I’m not the only one who thinks so.
As the final notes of our introductions fade, we take our places and begin playing our first set with a burst of energy. My fingers fly over my instrument as I pour my heart into “Sweet Caroline” while Sarah’s clarinet wails beautifully from her section. The crowd gets into it, singing along and being especially loud on the “bum, bum, bum” parts.
Looking out at the sea of faces before me, I can see their genuine appreciation for not only the classical pieces but also the more contemporary ones, and I smile as I blow life into my flute. It’s easily the most fun I’ve ever had at a recital.
After the concert, we all gather in the bustling gym foyer, still buzzing with excitement. Landry surprises us by asking Kerri if he can drive her home, to which she agrees. Way to go, Landry.
Corey and Ivy break away from us like the lovebirds they are, leaving just Sarah and me standing there. She decides to head home, and feeling a bit tired myself, I follow suit.
As I make my way out of the building, I’m grateful for this night and how it turned out, which I owe to Michael Tazman. I definitely did not see this coming back in September.
“Sash!” he shouts from behind me. “Are you heading home?”
“Yeah, I’m beat,” I reply.
“How about we have some fun before we go home?” he suggests mischievously, which is how we find ourselves standing in front of Landry’s house twenty minutes later.
“Ssh!” he whispers. “You’re going to wake someone up.”
“Why am I carrying all of the toilet paper?” I shoot back.
“Because I’m scoping out the perfect trees to cover,” he answers smugly.
“He’s going to kill you, you know,” I say, throwing the toilet paper at his feet. “He’s going to know it was you, and he’s going to throw you through a window, like in the trailer for that new Roadhouse movie.”
“Pfft,” Michael scoffs. “Landry loves me.”
“No.” I correct him. “Landry loves me. He tolerates you.”
Michael mulls it over and decides in two seconds that I’m right, and he doesn’t care. “Whatever,” he says. “Go over there by his truck.”
Suddenly, a roll of toilet paper flies through the air toward me, hitting me squarely on the nose. “Ow! What the hell!” I cry out as Michael laughs from his hiding spot across the driveway.
“Throw it back!” he commands. “As high as you can!”
I aim for where I think he’s standing and hurl the roll back through the trees toward him. We continue this game for several minutes until Landry’s front yard tree is completely covered in white toilet paper tinsel.
Suddenly, the porch light flicks on, and we scramble to hide in a nearby bush.
“Tazman! I know you’re out here. I’m going to kick your ass!” Landry’s voice booms through the quiet night.
“I told you,” I whisper to Michael with a smirk.
“I’m actually scared,” he admits, causing me to stifle a laugh.
“You have five minutes to get out of here!” Landry yells, his deep voice echoing through the darkness.
“Shit,” Michael curses. “RUN!” He grabs my hand, and we sprint from the house toward his truck parked down the street.
By the time we reach it, we’re both out of breath from running and giggling like children.
Once we get home, because we live together now, which is still such a strange concept, Michael offers to make us some food, but I’m worn out from the day's events.
“I think it’s time for me to hit the hay,” I say, looking up at him with gratefulness in my eyes. “And thanks for being there for my recital. It really meant so much to have you in the audience,” I stumble over my words, feeling a wave of emotion wash over me. He nods, his expression thoughtful and understanding.
After an hour of tossing and turning, I finally hear the familiar sound of my bedroom door creaking open. I pretend to be asleep as he quietly moves toward my bed, carefully avoiding the squeaky floorboards.
Every night, our little slumber party gets more intimate—tonight, he climbs under the covers in just his sweatpants and wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer to his muscular body. I’m wearing only a t-shirt and satin undies, and my skin tingles with anticipation as soon as the exposed skin of my lower back touches his row of abs.
His warm breath tickles my neck, and my heart races with excitement. I know we shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t find the strength to stop him.
“Michael,” I whisper, my voice shaking with desire and fear.
His breath is a gentle caress against my ear, sending goosebumps down my skin. His rough fingers dance over my shoulder in delicate circles, igniting sparks with each touch and causing my thighs to clench involuntarily.
As he presses into me, his fingers graze my hips. My entire body is alive, every nerve ending ablaze as we meld together.
With gentle movements, his hand trails down my bare legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as soft kisses are planted on the sensitive curve of my neck, intensifying the feeling.
“Let me make you feel good,” he whispers in my ear. It’s a pleading request not to overthink this moment. And for once, I’m not going to fight him.
He explores my body with exquisite, slow torture, almost taunting me with his touch. My entire body quivers as his hand glides down along the curve of my waist before settling back on my hip with a firm grip.
His lips find their way to my neck, leaving hot trails of desire and a deep masculine growl. Pressing myself back into him, I hear him release another primal groan from deep within his throat. He responds by pushing against me harder, his hand tightening and flexing on my hip as his hard cock rubs between my ass checks.
I’m testing him, teasing him, pushing the limits to see how far he’ll take this dangerous game we’re playing. And at this moment, I’m not sure what I want from it—until his hand grips the satin fabric of my underwear tightly, pulling them taut against my center and sending sparks of pleasure coursing through my body, making me squirm uncontrollably.
The sensation of his hot breath fanning across the back of my neck sends shivers down my spine. His deep chuckle mocks me as he releases my panties and slips his hand underneath from behind. With one hand gripping my throat firmly, he uses the other to explore my soaking-wet slit.
I’m completely at his mercy, and the smug satisfaction I picture on his face only fuels my desire. He teases me relentlessly, running his fingers up and down, up and down, until they find their way to my throbbing clit.
Instantly, my body is set ablaze with pleasure. Sweat beads on my upper lip as I struggle to catch my breath, my desire for him growing more intense by the second. As he flicks and rubs at my swollen bundles of nerves, I can feel myself getting closer to the edge.
But just as I am about to tip over, he stops and centers his middle finger at my entrance, a silent command for me to take control and ride it. Without hesitation, I shamelessly rock my hips back and forth, eager for more of his touch. He adds a second finger, and soon his two fingers are pumping inside of me while his index finger continues its relentless assault on my clit.
The sound of our heavy breathing fills the room as I surrender to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through me. And finally, with a burst of intensity that leaves me seeing stars behind closed eyes, I explode on his hand.
For a brief moment, I’m lost in a warm and content bliss before he gets up from the bed and leaves me alone, bringing me back to reality with a jolt. The click of the door closing echoes in my ears as I struggle to come down from the high of pure ecstasy he has given me.
I draw my knees close to my chest and curl into a tight ball, feeling the cool sheets against my skin. My mind is a jumbled mess, struggling to process what just happened.
In the midst of my confusion, Michael returns to the room. Despite the chaos in my head, a small part of me still longs for his touch, his comfort. But after what we just experienced, can I allow myself to be so vulnerable again? What kind of relationship are we creating here?
My thoughts are interrupted as he crawls into bed, still wearing only his loose sweatpants. Quickly, I excuse myself and slip out of bed, needing some space to collect my thoughts.
I take a few deep breaths in the bathroom before cleaning myself up. The cold water on my face brings me back to reality, and I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My green eyes seem to hold all the questions and uncertainties plaguing my mind. But I’m too physically and emotionally drained to dwell on them for long. I make my way back to bed, where Michael is peacefully sleeping.
As I cautiously slide under the covers, not wanting to disturb him, he instinctively pulls me closer until our bodies are pressed together. Despite my inner turmoil, the warmth of his embrace helps me relax and eventually drift off into a peaceful sleep. Or perhaps the release of tension from earlier aided in my slumber. Either way, I am content being wrapped in his arms for now.