The Brink of Destruction

"Mike, if you used that amp money, so help me--"

"Shut the hell up, you big tit!" Mike replied. "I didn't use the goddamned amp money, so just get off of it!"

"Then where did you come up with five hundred bucks on short notice? Have you been whoring again?" Billie was laughing, the wind from the open car window ruffling his curly blond hair and tossing the two random dreadlocks about. Mike's middle finger was the only answer he got.

"Fine, fuck you anyway," Billie chuckled.

"Oh, that's nice, coming from somebody who looks like shit in vertical stripes! Next time I'll let your crusty ass rot!"

Billie, who had insisted on sitting in the back seat with me, draped an arm around my shoulders. "Why don't you come back to the apartment for a while before you go back? Mike can go pick Wynn up and we'll get Chinese takeout or something."

"Sounds good to me!" I agreed. It was so good to have him out of that place, I was amenable to just about anything at the moment. "Did you have anything planned, Mike?"

"Nah, just a couple of beers, a porno tape, and an hour of deep, meaningful masturbation. But I guess you can talk me out of it."

He glanced up into the rear view mirror and caught my eye, winking slyly. His relief was obvious, too. I wondered for a moment what the years of friendship with Billie had been like for Mike, who always seemed to be the steady, rational one. The bond between them was deep, as deep as brothers, and I was sure Billie's life might have taken some different--and harder--turns without his friend's loyalty. He definitely couldn't have chosen a better friend.

I settled back against the hollow of Billie's shoulder, my hand on his thigh, and watched the stores along Ninth Street roll by. It would be a while before I'd get to see him again if I went home next weekend, so I vowed not to let anything distract me from enjoying this night.

A couple of hours and some excellent mu shu pork later, Wynn was listening intently to the adventures of the afternoon, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"God, Billie, I hope I never piss you off!" she laughed. "They'll find me in little pieces scattered over the football field!"

His smile faded for a moment. "That's something you'd never have to worry about. I think a man who hurts a woman is the lowest, most chickenshit coward on earth. Doesn't even deserve to be called a man."

I felt a rush of pride--he was a little rough around the edges, but there was honor in what he said, and I leaned over to kiss his neck. "We're all safer with you around," I told him, and then as I thought about the night before, I added, "and you too, Mike. You guys are what all men should be like." And I meant it.

As we relaxed after our meal, Mike and Wynn decided to take a walk around East Campus. They invited Billie and me to go with them, but he politely declined for both of us, saying he had 'other plans.' When they had set off, he escorted me to his car, and with the radio playing quietly, we headed north out of town, toward the softly rolling pastures and farmland that hugged the outskirts of the county. The night was warm for October, Indian summer at its finest, and once again a full moon washed the sky in silver. I began to smell freshly mowed grass, and the occasional trace of magnolias.

"Genny, thank you for what you did for me today," he said, his voice softer than usual. "I know it had to be you, because Mike and I don't have a pot to piss in."

Smiling, I shook my head. "I guess you didn't believe me when I told you there's no fortune hidden away in my family. I'd love to have been able to help you, but I can't take credit for this one."

"Well, who do I have to thank, then?" he asked. He looked puzzled, but happy.

"Just a friend. A friend who cares about you alot." I rubbed his shoulder gently.

He nodded thoughtfully, and seemed satisfied with the answer. "I don't think there's anything as amazing as having someone really believe in you. It makes you feel like you can do anything, you know?" He drove now with one hand, the other lazily riding the air current out the car window.

"I do know," I answered. "That's how I feel around you."

He looked away from the road for just a second, his eyes holding mine saying more than his words could. The smile on his lips was peaceful, beautiful.

"I do believe in you, Genny," he said, and the pride in his voice was unmistakable. "All the things people pretend to be, all nice and sweet and sincere--you're the real deal. You have this gift for making people see the best in themselves. I want you to promise me you'll never let anything change that about you."

"If I'm ever able to do anything special, it'll be because you opened up the world to me, and showed me how to be myself. You make me feel so free when I'm around you, and I don't know how to thank you for that."

He changed hands on the wheel, and laced his fingers through mine, pulling them against his chest.

"Genny, I have to warn you, you need to be careful," he sighed.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I think I may be falling for you, girl."

I let his words sink in, wash over me like warm sunshine. My heart was dancing, beating so hard I thought he might hear it.

Finally at a sign that read "Quail Roost," he turned and parked the car beneath a patch of trees that bordered a long picket fence. He opened my door and took my hand, and we walked through the grass, our moonshadows trailing out behind us.

"So what do you have planned?" I asked, knowing that whatever we did, as long as we were together it would be wonderful.

He didn't answer me, but rested his arms on the top rail of the fence. He made a clicking sound with his tongue, and then stood smiling at me as he waited.

From behind the little rise inside the fence, I saw movement, and a magnificent black mare came loping toward us. Billie reached into his pocket and pulled out a few sugar cubes, and the mare snuffled against his shoulder, seeming to know him.

"Hey, Delilah old girl," he murmured, rubbing the velvet nose and patting her gleaming neck. "Got something for you." He opened his hand flat, revealing a lump of white, and the animal's soft lips carefully took it from him.

He scratched behind her ears and stroked her face as I watched, fascinated. He was so gentle and loving with her, and she clearly trusted him.

"You must come out here a lot. She knew you right away," I said. "Whose is she?"

"One of the owners of the music store we get our equipment from lives over there about a quarter mile, and this is his pasture. We've come out here for cookouts once or twice, and old Delilah and I got to be good friends." Her big, rubbery lips were nuzzling at his hand, searching for more treats. "Go ahead, she'd love to get to know you too!"

I held out a sugar cube, my palm flat as Billie's had been, and the softness of her nose was amazing. As we rubbed and petted her, she gradually rested her big head on his shoulder, her eyes calm and serene.

"I think she's ready," he said, easing out from under her chin. He motioned for me to follow him as he climbed onto the fence and swung his leg over her back, but I was a little unsure how she might react.

"It's okay, she's really gentle. Actually, she's kind of old, so she doesn't get spooked easily. C'mon, I'll help you." He turned the foot nearest me outward, like a stirrup, and held his hand out to swing me up in front of him.

"How do we ride her without reins?" I asked. As much time as I'd spent riding back home, I'd never been on a horse bareback before.

He wrapped his arms around my waist, and taking a handful of Delilah's mane in each, he nudged her with his heels. "Like this," he said as she began to walk slowly across the field. The rocking motion of the powerful animal felt natural to me, and I realized how much I'd missed my own horses.

Billie's chest pressed firmly against my back, holding me steady, and his arms were tight on my sides. He rested his chin on my shoulder, and I could feel his warm breath on my ear.

"I remember you said you love horses," he whispered. "I thought this might be a good way to say thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, Billie. I'd do anything to help you, you know that." I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face.

His lips pressed against the back of my neck, and down onto my shoulder. "Wanna go faster?" he asked, and I could only nod. "Okay, hold on."

I took a handful of mane as well, and his heels touched the mare's shining flanks. Under my thighs, I could feel her muscles gather and release as she dug in her hooves, galloping over the grass that would never be as green as his eyes. My hair lifted away from my face in the breeze, and the moonlight was so bright it looked almost like morning.

Delilah slowed to a stop beside the small barn, and dipped into the water basin, wetting her dry throat. I let go of the shock of mane, and started to lift my leg over her back to climb down, but Billie's arms tightened around me.

"No, not yet. Let me help you." He lowered himself to the ground and held out his hands, crooking his fingers to motion me down. I slid down into his arms smoothly and wrapped my own around his neck.

Carrying me bridal fashion, he walked into the shadows of the barn, where low safety lights glowed between each stall. It was warm and cozy, and had a good smell, of hay and leather and molasses. The last of the stalls was piled with sweet straw, and he stopped in the open doorway, lowering me to my feet. A blanket hung over the wall, folded neatly. He shook it out, laid it over the straw, and holding his arms by his sides, fell backwards onto the soft heap, laughing like a little boy.

I didn't need to be persuaded. I tumbled down beside him, my giggles mingling with his, our arms and legs tangled hopelessly. He rolled onto his back, looking up at the moon shining through the window, and folded his arm behind his head.

"Billie, can I ask you something?" I asked him.

"You can ask me anything you want, Gen." He was grinning up at me, his fingers tracing circles on my knee.

"Have you really been in jail before? I mean, not that it's a big deal, but I just didn't know."

Fresh laughter bubbled out of him. "You have to promise not to tell anyone and ruin my image. I spent a few hours there last spring for a D&D."

"D&D? What is that?"

"Drunk and disorderly. I was walking home after band practice one night, and had to piss like a race horse. So I stepped into the alley to take care of business, and a cop tried to hassle me about it. I probably would have been okay, but I forgot to stop pissing before I turned around to talk to him, and ruined his pants."

I was laughing now, cracking up with relief and at the mental picture he'd painted in my mind. But he'd grown quiet, and I pressed my fist against my mouth to get control.

"That's not so bad," I offered. "I thought you'd held up the Seven-Eleven or something."

"Nah. I'm not a criminal, just a punk." He reached up, took my shoulders, and pulled me down onto the blanket. "But I'm a punk who thinks you're the most beautiful woman this moonlight ever shone down on." He propped himself on his elbow, his other arm sliding around my waist.

It was perfect. He was perfect.

I slid my fingers through his hair, stroking the tanned skin on the back of his neck. My hands pulled his face toward me, my lips parted to meet his in a kiss as sweet as the honeysuckle he'd given me in the Gardens.

For a long time, there didn't seem to be anything else except the soft warmth of our mouths, hungrily exploring each other. There was no hurry, no rush to go to the next level, just soft tenderness that seemed to blend us together.

His strong hand caressed my side, my hip, my waist, and everywhere he touched me felt like heaven. My hands craved his skin, too, and soon I began to undo the buttons of his shirt so I could feel his smooth chest. He smiled as I slid the sleeves off his shoulders and tossed the shirt aside. I slowly ran my hands across his collarbones, and traced the bright colors of his tattoos.

"These are beautiful," I told him. "It's amazing to me that you can have art underneath your skin."

"Maybe you should get one," he said. "They don't hurt, really."

"Maybe one day." But for now, his lips were calling mine again, and I closed my eyes, taking in every sensuous curve of his beautiful face with my hands. My breath was coming quicker, Billie's too, and he moved his mouth to my temples, my jaw, and down to my neck. It was almost too much, the way he grazed the skin so lightly with his teeth, and I couldn't hold back a gasp of pleasure.

He lifted his head to look down at me, his eyes clouded and smoldering. "Gen, maybe we should start heading back. I..."

"But why, Billie? It's not late, and this is so beautiful."

"That's just it. You're so beautiful, and you move like liquid gold when I touch you. Everything, your eyes, your hair, your body, the way you breathe, the scent behind your ear--it drives me crazy, and I don't know how much longer I can trust myself to stop."

"Why do you think you have to stop?" I whispered. "Don't you know by now that you're the one I want this to be with?" My mind was reeling, spinning with the passion he stirred, but I knew that what I was telling him was true.

"I want it, too, more than you can imagine. Sometimes when I'm trying to go to sleep it's all I can think about. But your first time has to be special, as special as you are. I don't want it to be anything you'll look back on and regret."

"I know I'm not as experienced as you are. But I know how I feel about you, and I know I would never regret this." I took his earlobe between my lips, holding it gently with my teeth, and he moaned my name, pulling me so tight against him I could hardly breathe.

"Oh God, Gen, please don't. I want this so bad, but not here, not like this. Let me make it perfect for you, baby, something you'll always remember." He was panting, slurring as he spoke, his eyes half-closed and not quite focused.

I didn't want him to stop. I didn't need perfect--Billie was perfection enough. But he wanted it to be more, not for himself, but for me. How could I not love that about him?

I lay beside him, my head on his shoulder, stroking his chest, feeling it rise and fall. For the second time, I could feel his hands trembling as he held me, our hearts gradually slowing to normal. After a few minutes, I stood up, brushing the straw from my hair, and held out my hand to help him up.

He grinned awkwardly at me. "Do you mind if we walk back to the car? I...I'm not sure I can ride Delilah right now." I couldn't believe it--was he blushing? Poor Billie.

"Yeah, sure, I love a walk in the moonlight." He took my hand, wincing a little as he stood, and we headed off across the pasture, arms linked around each other's waist.

At the dorm, I gave him one final kiss goodnight. "I don't know how you do it, but you always make it magical. I'll remember tonight forever."

"Me too," he grinned. "And I'll miss you next weekend. Call me as soon as you get back, okay?"

"I promise. And Billie?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll be dreaming about you, every night, until the right time comes. And when it does, I know there's nothing that could make me happier. Just know that I trust you, completely."

He lowered his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. "I am so falling in love with you," he sighed.

I knew exactly how he felt.