Chapter 29: Monday, Sept. 10

I awoke Monday morning to someone tugging on my arm.

“Get up!” Marie commanded, already dressed for the day in a house dress and slip-on sneakers. “It’s after 7 and you need to shower before breakfast.”

I rolled out of bed groggily. Flashes of what Marie and I had done last night brought a sleepy smile to my face. Being covered in her pussy juice all night was the main reason I needed to bathe.

“How are you feeling this morning?” I yawned as I tried to get my feet under me.

“Like some Neanderthal spent half the night shoving a tree trunk up my twat,” she grinned, letting me pull her in for a smooch despite my morning mouth. “I’m probably going to have to wait until this afternoon to do the grocery shopping. I don’t think I could get into a pair of panties right now. The irritation would be too much.”

“Kiss it better?” I leered.

“Maybe tonight. Hurry up or you’ll be late for school,” she said as she pushed me toward the bathroom. “Your mother won’t let you stay here if you’re tardy and then we couldn’t have any time together.”

I let the little waif go and hit the bathroom to get ready for the day. The shower was just enough to make sure no one at school would notice my nocturnal activities. A glance in the mirror showed it would be another month or so before I had to worry about combing my hair, but a quick shave was advisable. I’d brush my teeth after breakfast.

Marie had a plate my grandmother would have approved waiting for me on the little table. Scrambled eggs with cheese and salsa, bacon and sausage along with two slices of buttered toast. Of course, there was the obligatory glass of pineapple juice. I was going to be well-fueled for the day.

“Are you ready for your tests?” Marie asked as she joined me after pouring herself a mug of coffee.

“I should be,” I said before stuffing another forkful in my mouth. “I think I spent more time studying for these than I did any of my finals last spring, and I came out all right on them.”

We continued to chat as I ate. Assured that she would be able to cope while I was away, I finished my meal and went to brush and dress for school. A quick check of my backpack to make sure I had everything and I was ready to go going a little after 7:30.

“Be good,” I admonished her, getting one last kiss.

It may have been my imagination, but Marie seemed rather reluctant to let me go. She finally released me and shoved me toward the door.

“Have a good day, Daddy,” she whispered. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, baby,” I said.

I made it to school in time to drop things off at my locker, which this week exhorted me to “Pluck the Eagles,” and was still in my desk in Mr. Cochran’s room getting in one last review as the bell rang. Minutes later, I was regurgitating the information requested on the test.

The process repeated itself twice more with Mrs. Edwards and Mrs. Albracht. By the end of third period, I felt like I had smoke coming out of my ears. It didn’t help that they all piled on homework assignments.

Fortunately, I retained enough working brain cells to get through athletics. It helped that we wouldn’t get into the game plan until tomorrow thanks to playing on Saturday this week. I even had the presence of mind (and the time) to stop off at my locker and swap out my books for the ones I’d need after lunch.

After zipping through our lifting, we reported to the team room for film review. My portion with the receivers was brief since I was only in for two plays. That didn’t stop Coach Wilson from offering a critique.

“You took two steps into the end zone before making your cut,” he said, playing and rewinding the clip repeatedly. “All you needed to do was get across the goal line. That extra step gave the safety enough time to get there. Situational awareness.”

This was the first time I’d seen a wide angle of the play. The safety lined up just inside the back boundary line, but headed straight at me when the outside linebacker crashed inside. If I’d done what Coach Wilson advised, I might have had just enough time to secure the ball before contact. Maybe.

As it was, no one argued with the end result.

The special teams study was similar. Coach Ramirez wanted to know how I got the ball to Fabrice.

“Footballs don’t bounce like that,” Coach said.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I said. “I was just trying to keep it from getting past us.”

Fabrice was suitably praised for his reaction, especially the spin move near the goal line.

“My grandfather said we should give you the ball more often,” I told him.

“No thanks,” he said. “Those guys on defense like to inflict pain upon whoever holds the magic bean. It’s much safer being the kicker.”

We were finishing up when Coach Tucker came in, blipped his whistle and dismissed anyone who did not go dancing at Cedar Springs on Saturday. At least I wasn’t the only one facing his wrath.

“Who wants to tell me what happened?” he demanded.

I was pretty sure none of us really wanted to, but I figured it would be better to volunteer my version of events than wait to be called upon. I just hoped my side at least resembled what George Patterson had told the coach.

“We went to a dance the Cedar Springs cheerleaders held,” I said. “Our cheerleaders went to the same camp this summer and were showing their support. One of the local guys didn’t appreciate our presence. He thought we were there to ‘bother their women.’”

The memory of Billy Ray Harkrider’s threat brought a chuckle from some of the other players.

“And this was the young man who attacked you?” Coach asked.

“Yes, sir,” I said, “but I did my best to avoid getting into a fight and none of the other guys got involved.”

“I understand some people took video,” Coach said.

I was surprised when Luke Riley said he had several downloaded to his tablet, which was in his locker in the locker room.

“Go get it,” Coach ordered.

Luke returned in just a couple of minutes, poking at the screen as he walked through the door.

“This is probably the best view, but the sound’s not too good,” he said, handing the device to Coach.

Having lived through the experience, I had no desire to watch it from someone else’s perspective. The rest of the guys gathered around Coach to get a look.

The entire group winced in unison, which I took to be the moment Billy Ray punched the I-beam. After watching it through once — it was surprisingly brief — Coach began scrolling back and forth like he was breaking down game film.

“What did you say to set him off, Robinson?” Coach asked.

“I asked him if his mother taught him boys aren’t supposed to hit girls when he took a swing at Bonnie, the girl I was dancing with,” I said. “They apparently had dated over the summer.”

Luke, being ever helpful, called up another clip of the earlier encounter with Billy Ray. This one had better sound quality and I could clearly hear Billy Ray challenge me to meet him outside. This one was long enough to include my statement that I had no such intention. Coach snorted at my comment about getting into enough trouble already. The clip ended with Chuck Edwards’ statement about leaving together.

“Why’d he target you, Robinson?” Coach asked.

“I guess because I was the one who spoke to him,” I said.

“That and you were the only guy there who didn’t have at least 50 pounds on him,” Chuck cracked. “Kinda like that doofus who slugged you at the pool.”

“At least I did a better job of avoiding getting punched this time,” I said. “Easier to do when you’re actually looking at them.”

That aroused Coach’s curiosity and I was forced to tell the saga of getting sucker punched by Aaron Jenson after he swiped Staci’s bikini top. The few guys who’d been in attendance on both occasions swore to Coach that I was blameless that time, as well.

“I guess that explains the busted lip when I met you,” he said dryly. “I thought it might have been from one of your girlfriends’ fathers. You seem to have a knack for rescuing damsels, Robinson. A regular Sir Galahad.”

The bell had long since rung and we’d have to hurry if we were going to shower and have enough time to hit the cafeteria, let alone make it to fifth period on time.

Seemingly satisfied that we’d not intentionally instigated any trouble and had, in fact, done our best to avoid it, Coach let us off with a warning.

“You probably should stay out of Cedar Springs for the rest of the season, if not longer,” he “suggested.”

“I’m gonna miss that barbecue place,” Chuck moaned, receiving near unanimous agreement from the others.

I had to concur, but considered it a decent tradeoff for not being assessed more gassers for the crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. At least we had decent barbecue available in town, just not the quality of Lineshack.

We were almost out the door when Coach hit me with one last surprise.

“Good move with the fight song Friday night, Robinson,” he said. “That helped create some team spirit, got what crowd we had into it.”

I managed to get out a “thank you, sir,” before I bolted for the locker room.

After a quick rinse, I dressed quickly and gathered my stuff. We hit the lunch line in time to scarf a burger. Morgan was at our usual table. She’d finished eating, but wanted to get the details of our visit with Coach Tucker. After receiving the update, she waited until I’d taken a big bite before she attacked.

“Staci told us all what happened Saturday night,” she said a little too sweetly, making me look for the nearest escape route. “Am I going to have to share you with another cheerleader?”

“Not if I can help it,” I said after swallowing. “I don’t plan on going back there any time soon and I’ll doubt she’ll come here looking for me.”

“Until the Sadie Hawkins Dance,” Chuck muttered just loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. “You know all those girls will be here and they’re all going to want to ‘dance’ with you.”

“I already have a date,” I said. “I expect most of my dances will be with her.”

“You don’t have the foggiest idea how girls think, do you?” Morgan smirked.

“Of any age, nationality, creed, religion or species,” I conceded. “That’s why I need someone smart like you to guide me.”

“Oooh, good answer,” Morgan shot back, still smirking. “Who’s your speechwriter?”

I tried to change the subject as my teammates struggled to control their laughter with little success. I almost expected one of Jed’s whip-crack sound effects, but he’d already departed.

“Do you have anything you’d like to do this weekend?” I asked. “We’ll probably get back from the game Saturday in time to go out.”

Our game against the defending state champs was scheduled for 1 p.m. at the NFL stadium with the college game — a Big 10 powerhouse against a rising Big 12 program — to start at 7 p.m. If our game took no more than three hours and we were on the road in another hour, that should put us back at school by 6 p.m.

“I’ve got a couple of ideas,” Morgan said. “It depends on if my folks have any plans. I’ll know before the end of the week. We could do something Friday.”

“Just remember we’ll have curfew that night,” I said. “I’d have to get you home in time to get back to the apartment before 10.”

We were to meet at the fieldhouse at 8 a.m. Saturday and be on the road by 9, which should put us at the stadium around 10. Everyone was supposed to be taped, dressed and on the field for pregame by 11:45. That was 30 minutes earlier than normal, but some special presentations had been added to the pregame ceremonies.

The whole thing was being orchestrated by the NFL team. It was my understanding we were the guinea pigs to make sure everything would work properly for the college and pro games to follow us. Both were primetime network broadcasts and the owner wanted to have a test run lest there be any fuckups on national television.

We finished eating and were putting our trays away when the bell rang. Morgan stole a quick kiss and raced off. I was able to take my time and still make it to Algebra II before the tardy bell. Mr. Henderson handed back the pop quiz from Thursday. I was surprised to see I’d again received credit for the bonus question.

“I did debate the matter with myself,” the teacher said, “but Coach Tucker’s comment in the paper clinched it.”

I hadn’t read the newspaper story and had no idea what the coach could have said that would have made such a difference, but Mr. Henderson was quick to explain.

“Coach Tucker told the Panthers’ coach they could either agree to call the game or he’d do everything in his power to score instead of taking a knee if we had to wait out another delay,” Mr. Henderson said. “A simple handoff up the middle probably would have been enough. We would have scored 38 points easily.”

I caught a break with no homework for this class tonight, but Mr. Henderson told us to be prepared for a slightly tougher test this Friday since there was no game to worry about.

Chemistry also held a surprise when Elise Stirling handed me two typewritten pages of notes. It seemed Mr. Debussy had deviated from his normal plan Friday because a news item offered the opportunity to show how chemistry could be applied outside the lab. We had to write a short paper — at least 400 words, but no more than 700 — giving an example. It could cover almost anything as long as we could show how chemistry was involved. One of Grandma’s baking recipes should do. Yeast causing dough to rise was a classic example of a chemical reaction.

The notes, of course, weren’t all Elise had for me.

“I’ve been asked to find out if you have a date for Sadie Hawkins,” she said with a blush. “You’re on the short list for a couple of my teammates.”

“Sherry Parker asked me Friday after the pep rally,” I said, suddenly glad to have that excuse. “The cheerleaders set me up. I got the feeling I wouldn’t be here right now if I’d said no.”

“There’s gonna be a lot of disappointed girls in this school,” Elise snickered, “but at least it’s not someone they can complain about. Any girl who does wouldn’t be worthy of taking you.”

“Well, the cheerleaders are supposed to be spreading the word that I’m not available,” I said. “I guess the grapevine is running a little slow today.”

Creative Writing, thankfully, just had a reading assignment, but we’d be expected to write something in class Tuesday demonstrating our grasp of the concept.

Football practice was a little different, as I expected. What I wasn’t expecting was for Coach Tucker to move our option segment up to the start of the week. He said that was so we could concentrate on the Eagles the next three days. He’d make a determination on whether to keep doing it right after position drills on Mondays or go back to the last segment on Wednesdays before we began preparing for our district opener in two weeks.

We tried different combinations of me and Reggie working with all the running backs. I noticed Reggie never pitched on the times he didn’t hand off on the dive, including a couple of times when the end took him. He was just athletic enough to gain yardage even on those plays.

Coach had us running everything from the shotgun, but said we’d look at taking snaps under center and in a pistol set before a final decision was made. The main thing with lining up in the shotgun was the back didn’t hit the hole as quickly, making the blocking calls a little different for the line.

The special teams segment again saw me fielding punts, but I didn’t think the coaching staff would seriously consider having me do that in a game. They were still looking for someone who could run after catching the ball, but we didn’t have one return after two games. Everything had been allowed to roll dead or out of bounds except for the one Ronnell muffed in the opener.

Our fake field goals for this week were a mix of what we’d worked on the first two weeks — a rollout pass to a wing blocker and the shovel pass we’d worked on last week. Coach Ramirez told me in no uncertain terms that I was not to even think of trying what I had against the Bearcats even if the Eagles showed the same look.

“Every one of their guys is fast enough to chase you down,” he warned. “I doubt you’d even clear the line before they put two or three hats on you.”

We finished up with gassers, which were becoming a little easier despite the heat and full pads. We didn’t even have anyone cramp up today, but we hadn’t done much more than drills. The hitting would begin tomorrow.

After huddling around Coach Tucker and shouting “TEAM!” on three, we were sent to the showers about 5:45 with orders to report for study hall by 6:15. I made it a little after 6 and started working on my Economics problems.

Morgan was helping Scottie Pipkin with his Geometry. The JV quarterback needed to raise his grade nearly 20 points by the end of the six weeks to retain his eligibility. From the expressions on their faces, that didn’t look like a good bet.

I moved on to Western Civ, which was just answering a bunch of review questions at the end of the chapter. The thing was, the answers had to be explained by a short paragraph. I pulled out the laptop and was typing away when Coach Tucker and Stephanie came over to where I was working.

He didn’t look like he was about to remove my manhood, but he wasn’t smiling, either.

“Are you online, Robinson?” Coach asked.

“No, sir, I’m just saving the file to my desktop,” I said. “I’ll put it on a thumb drive to turn in tomorrow.”

“Stephanie says she can’t get on the school wifi out here and wants to know if she can use your phone as a hotspot.”

I had no problem with that and quickly whipped my phone out, turned that setting on and gave her the password.

“The signal should be good to about 10 feet if she’s the only one on it,” I said, giving Coach an excuse to sit his daughter at the other end of the table where I was working. Whatever she had planned, I was at least going to try to maintain some distance between us.

She confirmed her tablet was connected and sat quietly a few seats away while I resumed looking up answers for Western Civ. That was finished quickly enough, but I went over the explanations to make sure they weren’t verbatim out of the book.

English was just reading, which I could finish at the apartment if necessary. I was ready to go by 7 and made sure Stephanie had gotten what she needed before depriving her of Internet access. I checked with Morgan to see if she needed a ride, but was told she could get one from Benny or Wil, who were also tutoring some of the subvarsity players.

I packed everything up and headed out to find Bethany waiting for me.

“Gary, could you give me a ride home?” she asked sweetly.

“What are you still doing here?” I asked Bethany before greeting her with a smooch.

“I told Nan I wanted to stay and watch practice today,” she said. “I was able to get all my homework done while y’all were having your study hall, so we’ve got a little time if you want to do something.”