I saw Mike in the halls of course but he didn't talk to me, didn't approach me. His locker was no longer next to mine. It seemed he had a new group of friends to hang out with; the freshmen kids from last year. They all looked as if they worshipped him. I sadly guessed that that was what he needed. I also knew that he would drop out by the end of this year and that I was powerless to stop it. I tried to approach him a few times and he simply walked away.
Nina and I started studying together on a regular basis and our friendly relationship deepened to the point that we became intimate friends; able to judge each other's moods with a glance, able to say nearly anything to each other. I became closer to her than I ever would have thought possible. I was closer to her than I'd ever been to Mike. After all, Nina didn't always try to top whatever story I told or try to convince me about all of the mythical dick she was getting. She didn't try to get me to smoke cigarettes or cut school or get stoned. There was also no underlying sexual tension with her as there was with most of the other girls I knew. We just enjoyed being together, talking together.
She met Tracy and my parents on her first day studying at my house. It was somewhat awkward since Nina was very shy before new people and my parents were very curious about this girl I chose to have meet them. Though I was boffing nearly everything I could get my dick into at that point, I'd never introduced anyone to them. I thought it kind of ironic that the one they were meeting was the one I had not had any sex with. Nina uttered monosyllable replies to Dad and Mom's inquiries about where she lived, what she planned to do, etc, and finally they left us alone. Tracy had only uttered a polite greeting and had retreated to her room.
After she'd left, and after I'd answered my parent's interrogation and explained that we were only STUDYING together, that we were only friends, and that they should not start compiling a wedding list, I went upstairs to put my books away.
Tracy was doing some studying of her own, this time to the accompaniment of Ozzy Osborne. She looked up as I passed and called me into the room.
"What's up?" I asked her.
"Have you no shame at all?" She asked me.
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"It's bad enough that you're screwing all of my friends but isn't that enough? Have you gotten bored with that and decided to start knocking off the shy egghead girls too? You are serious scum."
"I'm not screwing Nina." I said, looking at my sister aghast. "We were just studying. She's my friend."
"You don't have any girl friends." She accused. "You have fuck partners. Are you seriously telling me that you invited that poor girl over here to study? You didn't take her upstairs for a little private session before we all got home?"
"No." I yelled, shaking my head. "My god, am I that bad?"
"Are you that bad?" She laughed. "Do you know how many relationships you've broken up in the last few months? Do you know that more than four of my friends have dumped their boyfriends after they fucked you?"
"No." I said, and then, "Really?"
"Really." She nodded. "It was kind of cute at first, how all these girls were trying to maneuver to you, to get you to notice them. But you're getting out of hand. I've got girls coming up to me and pretending to be my friend just so I'll introduce them to you. Of course I have to keep it quiet they all say. I just wanna meet him, talk to him a little. Did you know that they all talk about you in the locker room and in the bathroom? Do you know what they say about you?"
"What?" I asked.
"They talk about you the way your friends talk about chicks like Steph. You're a male slut Billy. They describe what you do to them and how well you do it using the most disgusting terms I've ever heard. They've even asked me if I've done you. Me! Your fucking sister!"
"I'm sorry Tracy, I never…"
"But you know what they never say about you?" She went on. "They never say how nice of a guy you are or how respectful you are. They never come up to me and say, 'Gee Tracy, your brother is such a sweetheart'. All they talk about is how you'll eat their pussy like a goddam vacuum cleaner or about how you'll fuck them until they scream. They never talk about how they'd like to take you home to meet their mom or about how they'd like to be your girlfriend. They talk about how they can manage to get over to your house again for another session."
"Wow." I said, unsure what to think. Though I'd known that I had a reputation among the girls I had no idea they talked the way Tracy was telling me. I was also disconcerted at my sister's anger about this. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was have her pissed off at me.
"Wow." Tracy mocked. "That's pretty goddam profound."
I sat down on the edge of her bed, setting my backpack full of books down. Tracy turned down the stereo a little.
"I'm sorry Tracy." I told her. "I didn't know that what I was doing was affecting you. I thought I was just having some harmless fun. And I assure you that Nina and I are just friends. I haven't slept with her and I have no intention of doing so."
She stared at me for a moment. "You know the damnedest thing?" She asked. "The damnedest thing is that you ARE a nice guy and you ARE a sweetheart when you want to be. If you were an asshole it wouldn't bother me for girls to talk about you that way but you aren't. It bugs the shit out of me to hear people talk about my little brother that way. You would probably feel the same way if you went into the locker room and the guys were saying how well Tracy sucked dick or how she'd fuck anyone who asked, wouldn't you?"
"Well, yeah." I nodded. Would it bother me? I would want to kill whomever I heard saying that.
"That's how I feel when I hear that." She said. "And I can't even defend you in front of them because it's true. You DO fuck anyone who asks."
"I'm sorry." I repeated. I couldn't think of a thing to say to her. I surely wasn't going to say that I wouldn't do it anymore because that would have been a lie.
"Look." She said. "I'm just your sister. I'm not gonna ask you to stop fucking girls. I know you wouldn't do it anyway. But can you maybe tone it down a little? Cut it down to one or two a week? Or maybe hit up some of the other ones more than once?"
I laughed, shaking my head. "I'll try Tracy. I'll try. But remember, I'm fifteen. I'm at my sexual peak you know."
"Fuck you dickhead." She laughed back. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, but you deserved it."
"I suppose I did." I agreed.
"You're really not fucking Nina?"
"I'm really not." I affirmed.
"Maybe there's hope for you yet." She said.
So for Tracy's sake I toned things down a little. Also for my own. I wasn't sure I liked being referred to as a male slut. I stopped pursuing women with the vigor I'd exhibited before, instead simply waiting for them to come to me. I also began giving more repeat performances. By the time the snow flew I had, in addition to a new best friend, a small circle of girls that I regularly had sex with instead of a constant stream. It was enough and when one of the girls got tired of the relationship or met someone they wanted to have for a boyfriend, I would covet someone else.
To my surprise Tracy and Nina actually became something like friends. Nina would come over to my house twice a week or so to study and my sister, curious about the type of girl I would choose as a friend, made a point to talk to her each time she was over. Nina was slow warming up to my sister. I knew that this was due to her past treatment by other girls, which was both crueler and longer lasting than the torment she'd suffered from boys. This was something I never would have suspected had she not told me and it disheartened me to think that the fairer sex could be even crueler to their own then boys were.
But gradually Nina lost her shyness before Tracy and even Cindy, who was also a frequent visitor to our house. The two older girls took Nina under their wing and taught her the finer points of fashion, talking her into replacing her plain clothes with more modern ones. They taught her how to put on make-up, accenting her facial features. They taught her how to fix her hair into something other than a ponytail. The change in her appearance was actually startling when you saw it. I was able to see the attractive doctor that she would one day be, although without the perpetually bitchy expression and mannerism.