[Copyright (c) 1991 by Edward L. Stauff. The author grants permission to
copy and distribute this story for personal, non-profit use, provided
that it is copied without modification and includes this notice. This is
a work of fiction; any reference to real persons or events is purely
incidental.]
* * *
Three naked bodies hit the water simultaneously and disappeared. A
moment later, three heads broke the surface screaming in unison "Yow,
it's cold!" Their traditional yell was truer than usual: notwithstanding
the unseasonable heat of Indian Summer, October was pushing the limits of
the season for their favorite swimming hole. "Why did I let you two talk me into this?" yelled Jill, her teeth
chattering, mostly for effect. Holly's jaw dropped, also for effect. "Who talked who into what?" "Funny," said her brother Terry, "I seem to remember saying 'No way
in hell am I going in that water, Indian Summer or no.'" With a glance at each other, brother and sister began splashing
their friend for all they were worth. Jill gave back as good as she
received, but she was outnumbered four hands to two, and finally
surrendered by diving under the water. She surfaced near the bank and
climbed out, saying "Okay, I'm done." "The hell you are!" Holly and Terry clambered out as fast as the
water would let them, and proceeded to chase the laughing Jill up and
down the bank until they outflanked her. Still giggling, Jill found
herself taken by hands and feet and swung ceremoniously back into the
swimming hole. When she surfaced, the two siblings were grappling,
trying to throw each other in. Holly was victorious, and no sooner had
Terry hit the water then he was scrambling out again, friendly vengeance
on his face. But Holly was already jumping in, accepting the
inevitable. "Spoilsport," said Terry, making a face. "Oh, kiss and make up, you two," said Jill, and when they had, she
added "Am I forgiven too?" "Well, just this once," replied Holly, kissing her. "Only if you promise never, ever to do it again," said Terry,
completing the circle by kissing Jill. But this last kiss lasted rather
longer than the first two, and neither saw Holly's face as she turned
away and climbed out. "It *is* cold," said Terry. "Enough?" "Enough," agreed Jill, and they joined Holly on the bank. The three
stood shivering, hugging themselves, though the setting sun was still hot. "I don't suppose..." began one, "That anyone thought to bring..."
continued another, "Towels?" finished the third. None of them had figured on swimming when planning an overnight
camping trip in October. Bathing suits were no problem; they probably
wouldn't have brought them even in July, as the trio had been
skinny-dipping together since grammar school. But the question of how to
dry themselves hung in the air until Terry suggested running around and
let the wind do it. The motion passed for lack of a better one, and they
raced all through the trees around the swimming hole until they dropped
with exhaustion. As they lay panting on the ground, Terry gazed at the two girls
(<oops -- young women> he reminded himself) who had been his best friends
since forever: Jill with her blonde hair, her slender body whose secrets
he had just recently begun to know, and a face worth dying for; Holly
with hair and eyes the same brown as his own, her face so much plainer
than Jill's, but to Terry no less beautiful, her body comfortably plump,
especially her breasts, those wonderful breasts that a part of him longed
to touch, even as the rest of him shied away from the forbidden
temptation. Terry was suddenly aware that he had an erection, and no
graceful way to hide it. Too late, the girls had already seen it.
"Oops," he said sheepishly, blushing furiously. Holly got up. "I'll get the fire going," she said, "and leave you
two alone." * Terry and Jill watched Holly hurry away, and looked at each other
uncomfortably. That fall they had started college, choosing the same one
more by coincidence than by design. Knowing nobody else in their new
environment, they had clung to each other for support, and it was both a
profound shock and the most natural thing in the world when their
intimate friendship of so many years blossomed into romance. By the time
they had been in school a month, they had given each other their
virginity. But Holly, a year older, had entered a different college, and they
couldn't all be together as often as in high school. And when Jill and
Terry became lovers, though nobody said a word, Holly knew it. And that
was when the trouble began. "We can't go on like this," said Jill as she sat beside Terry, their
backs against a tree. "I know. It's tearing her apart." He sighed. "I wish we could
make her understand. It doesn't change anything between her and I, or
her and you." "Well, I'm afraid it does." "Well, it shouldn't." They sat in silence for a while. "I love you both so much," said Terry, "And I'd never do anything to
hurt either of you. Not if I knew it was going to." "I feel the same way. But now we know, don't we? I feel like I've
-- betrayed her, by taking you as..." "Your lover?" "Yeah. Terry?" Tears were filling Jill's eyes. "Do you think we
could... go back to..." "Just being friends?" Terry nodded slowly. "But I love making love
with you. I don't want to give that up." "Oh god, neither do I, but is it worth losing Holly?" The tears
were running down her face now. "She'll always be your sister, but I
don't think I can stand to lose her -- and I am!" Terry took her in his arms and held her while her tears fell, and
some of his own as well. At last, when their sobs had ceased, he said
"Okay, Jill. What we did was a wonderful thing, and I'll never regret
it. But it was a mistake. Are we still friends?" "Oh, yes!" Jill cried, and more tears fell. As they watched the sun disappear behind the distant mountains,
Terry remarked, with a catch in his throat, "You know, I feel like the
sun is going down on our friendship." "It's not." "I know. But that's how I feel." They started back toward camp,
close together but not touching. "I guess we better stick to the
'official' sleeping arrangements, huh?" * <It's ironic,> Holly said to herself as she set about starting the
fire. <Jill could have had any boy in high school -- goodness knows they
were all chasing after her. All except Terry. I guess that's why
they've been such good friends, because he never tried to put the make on
her. Of course,> she grinned at the thought, <He always figured he never
had a chance with her anyway, with her being so beautiful, and him with
his face as plain as mine. Not ugly, mind you, but nothing that would
turn a girl's head.> She sighed sadly. <How nice it must be to be
beautiful, to never have to go on diets, to always have everyone looking
at you, admiring you.> She stopped in her tracks, the skillet she was
carrying forgotten. <I'm jealous! Jealous of Jill's looks, and I've
*never* been jealous of her before. And I'm jealous of her romance with
Terry.> Thinking about the way they looked at each other, Holly knew she
had never felt that way about anybody. <At least, not about any of the
boys I went out with. Certainly nobody's ever felt that way about me.
And when they look at each other like that, I feel so -- so left out, so
alone, so *superfluous*.> Brushing away a tear, she set the skillet to
heat on the fire and sat staring into the flames until Terry and Jill
returned. * Dinner was a somber affair, with nobody speaking much. When all the
food had been eaten or put away or tossed into the woods for the
scavengers, Jill spoke. "Holly, Terry and I have something to tell you." Holly forced a smile. "You're getting married?" There was an uncomfortable silence. "Not quite," said Terry. "No, Jill and I have been talking, and
we've decided -- Jill and I thought that you -- I mean that we -- " he
looked helplessly at Jill. "What Terry's trying to say is that we've realized that we made a
mistake." "A mistake?" "All of us were happy together when we were just friends, and that's
how we want it to be again." Holly said nothing, but looked from Jill to Terry and back again. "What she's trying to say," said Terry, "Is that we realize how left
out we've made you feel, and we..." "No!" Holly interrupted, "Don't do this because of me! You love
each other, and I can't -- I won't -- " her words failed, and she burst
into tears. "Of course we love each other," Jill said, putting her arm around
her, "We'll always love each other. But we love you too, and to break up
our friendship..." "It's too high a price to pay -- just for sex." Terry's words left
a bitter taste in his mouth. <It not just the sex,> he thought. But after the tears there were hugs and kisses (short ones between
everyone now), and when Terry and Holly brought out their dulcimers, it
was just like old times as they talked and laughed and sang the evening
away. And when they sang "Julian of Norwich", the words seemed to have
