You make your way over to Allison's house.

"Just come around tomorrow, like 11ish," Randall whispered urgently.

"Promise me, Randall," you said.

"Promise you what, Tim?"

"Promise that we will hang out tomorrow. No interruptions." Your voice was exasperated. Weeks of being blown off and sneaking around had taken their toll. A distressed look crossed Randall's face. Sighing, you continued, "Look, man. I know this isn't your fault or the way you want it. Shit happens. I get it. But seriously, we can't go five minutes without someone barging in. It's hard always getting brushed to the side, ya know?"

Randall nodded in agreement. "I know, Tim. I know. I swear on our friendship, no uninvited guests or anything else. You and me. Tomorrow. Just like old times. Promise."

"Lau-ra?" Miss Wells voice sang out. "Where'd you go?"

"Gotta go, dude!" said Randall and without another look, he shut the door. You could hear the muffled sound of women's high pitched chatter and giggling from inside. You felt decidedly less dejected with Randall pledging some time to your friendship. As out of touch as the two of you had been lately, you hadn't even had time to share the good news about Allison. News that was bound to only get better after today.

As you stealthily wheeled your bike out from the side of the house, you hopped on and began peddling toward Allison's house. You were glad to have a backup plan for once. Too often lately had your time with Randall devolved into situations that left you high and dry with no place to go. Looking forward, you realized that might not be a bad way to start planning your time.

The fact of the matter was, no matter which way you cut it, you and Randall were operating in distinctly different circles now. In the time since the accident, Randall had managed to develop a full blown adult social life. Admittedly, he acquired it from Miss Card, but he had one none the less. Meanwhile, you felt like you were constantly waiting on him, hoping against the odds that things would somehow go back to normal. All that really involved was you playing the loner, during your senior year of high school. While the double date with Bryce and Shawna had been less than ideal, it was certainly a step in the right direction. You've had plenty of friends over the years. Certainly, it wouldn't be that hard to rekindle some of those friendships. Sean seemed like a cool enough guy. He liked video games and could tell a good joke. Even Bryce might be cool to hang around with occasionally. With these ideas in mind, you resolved to start this upcoming week on a new foot. No more waiting around for Randall.

Randall. As necessary as this process felt, it still hurt to think of moving past him. Like he was actually dead in some way. It was easy to deal with when you were angry and frustrated, however, at the heart of it all, you just wanted your friend back.

Plus, you had a bit of a sinking feeling. There was definitely something going on with Randall. You couldn't quite put your finger on it. When it was just the two of you, he seemed normal, what passed for normal these days. The stories Miss Wells recounted while you were eavesdropping were not. From what you and Randall had gathered was that Miss Card (and her body) did not seem to handle booze very well. Still, it was shocking (and unnerving) to hear about how Randall was acting out at the club. Flirting with guys was one thing. He had to keep up appearances after all, but what about the rest? Rubbing his ass against dudes on the dance floor? Pressing his boobs up in guys' faces? Not to mention, Randall didn't seem to remember a thing...

You didn't need to be a doctor to know that Randall's transplant had put him into some uncharted territory. Who knows what was actually going on in his head? It was tough to keep track, especially with his dual roles as himself and Miss Card. You were sure Miss Card's brain and body were bound to have some kind of effect on him. How could they not? Most of the time, Randall still seemed just like Randall. Maybe drinking was the key... Like the booze lowers the influence of the Randall part of the brain enough for the Miss Card part to come out a little more.

Hearing about his drunken behavior elicited a strange feeling in you. Where you were sure you would be jealous to hear about something like that, you were actually somber. It served to highlight the growing disconnect you felt from Randall. That behavior wasn't abnormal for an adult woman, which Randall now was. You were still very much a teenage boy. Your friend had been straddling those categories since the operation. Behavior like that made Randall seem more like a mysterious older woman that the two of you would have been curious about before and less like a boyhood friend. It was confusing.

Pulling up to Allison's house, you pushed thoughts of Randall from your mind. This was a moment nearly two years in the making. Randall had taken up enough time in your head for today. You parked your bike on the side of the house and trotted back to the front door.

Allison opened it before you had a chance to knock. "Hey there, stud," she said playfully. "I saw you pull up on that fly ride there. You really know how to impress a girl."

"Well, it is a Schwinn..." Managing to hold the joke for a couple extra seconds, you both broke out laughing. Allison pulled you close, wrapped her arms around your neck, and kissed you deeply. You could feel your heart start to race with anticipation. You weren't even in the house yet! The feel of her soft body against yours and the sweet scent of her perfume were already making it difficult to concentrate. The moment seemed surreal. Usually, Allison was so reserved. However, her body language was making it clear that this was not another carrot she was dangling in front of your face. It was the real deal.

"C'mon, Tim," she said, smiling shyly and taking your hand. You followed behind her like a lost puppy. As you ascended the stairs inside, you could not take your eyes off her jean clad backside. Not even 18 and Allison was well ahead of the game as far as her figure was concerned. The youthful elegance of her trim waist accentuated her widening hips and expanding backside. The to-and-fro sway of her gait was practically hypnotic.

Wasting no time, Allison pulled her shirt off in one smooth, sexy motion. Her jeans swiftly followed suit. Standing only in her underwear, she started to disrobe further when she caught sight of you, still fully clothed.

She chuckled a little. You didn't understand why you felt like such a deer in headlights. You had already had sex. More than once. Something was different about this time. More real. More intimate. Sex with Randall had been a fantasy. With a fantasy. Allison was a virgin and she was real. Also, she was clearly the confident one in this situation.

Smiling, she helped you out of your clothes, one piece at a time. The front of your boxers tented, only adding to your awkward feelings. Her bra dropped to floor. Allison's long blonde hair draped enticingly over her breasts, her stiff pink nipples poking through the golden locks. Taking your hand, she led you to the bed, the two of you slinking beneath the covers.

Allison reached into a drawer on her bedside table and turned to hand you something.

"A condom?" you said, feeling surprised.

"Yeah," said Allison, sheepishly. "I know I'm on the pill and everything, but I'm just scared of getting pregnant. Babies freak me out." You could definitely agree with that. It was strange. You actually never stopped to think about wearing a condom. The two times you had sex with Randall had been rather impromptu. Besides, there was no way that Miss Card wasn't on the pill.

"We've got college to worry about. Definitely don't want to end up being Papa Tim," you joked, attempting to dispel your anxiety. It was strange to slide the condom on. Not what you would have expected. Allison tossed her underwear out onto the side of the bed. You took a deep breath. Deciding to go for it, you rolled over and kissed her, staring into her big blue eyes. She spread her legs and pulled you close.

After a few awkward moments, you finally managed to get comfortable on top of Allison as your raging erection slid inside of her. She winced at first, but urged you to continue. It was difficult for you to adjust to the feeling of the condom, the sensation of the act lessened by its presence. Allison moaned softly in your ear as your rhythmically slid back and forth within her. After a few moments, you noticed that she seemed somewhat distracted.

"Everything okay?" you grunted.

She looked at you, her face flush with embarrassment. "Do you mind if I get on top?" she asked timidly. Perfectly content to go with the flow, you acquiesced. Repositioned, Allison was much more enthusiastic. As she shook her initial embarrassment off, the way she ground her crotch into yours became increasingly passionate. You cupped her beautiful, firm breasts, reveling in their texture. You timed gentle rubs of her nipples to your thrusts inside of her. Within minutes, you could feel a rapid twitching around your cock and Allison sunk down on top of you. Her breaths were slightly labored. After giving her a moment of reprieve, you grasped her hips firmly and began thrusting from underneath her. She raised torso back up and your eyes locked onto the breasts bobbing and weaving before you. Allison's sweat voice moaned and grunted approval. As you kneaded her toned ass, you focused your arousal and finally finished.

Though the condom had thrown off your mindset a bit, you had finally had sex with Allison. In so many ways, it was different than your previous experiences. Simpler. Sweeter. Sex with Allison felt easier, more at your level. One thing was for certain, you couldn't wait to share the news with Randall.