A Stitch In Time
Chapter 26

Copyright© 2006 by Marsh Alien

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 26 - After a visit with Santa in the men's room of the local shopping mall, ninth grader Patrick Sterling wakes up on Christmas morning to find himself three years older. Is it too late to fix the mess that he appears to have made out of high school? And is he even capable of doing it, having missed out on the lessons he would have learned in the intervening years? In most time travel stories the hero travels backward; not this one.

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   Teenagers   Consensual   Time Travel  

The news that I wasn't going to get the grades I needed to be admitted to the University of Virginia was just sort of slipped into the middle of the week, like a piece of paper you find in a book that you picked up in the library. On Monday, we had another quiz in Astronomy, and I was stoked when I handed it in. As far as I could tell, I nailed every question on it. Cammie was happy, too. We were both pleased. Until lunch, anyway.

"Do you know any sports couples?" Jeanne was looking around the cafeteria as she threw the question out for discussion by the table.

"I'm not sure I even know what a sports couple is," I said doubtfully.

"It's a couple where both the guy and the girl lettered in sports," Jeanne said, turning back to us with a frown. Apparently she had been unable to locate any.

"First of all, no," I said. "And second of all, why?"

"Because the sports banquet is next Saturday," she said.

I actually knew that, because Coach had said that he would pass out tickets after the game today. I didn't see how that answered the question, though, and apparently my confusion showed on my face.

"Oh, you remember," Jeanne said to cover up the fact that I didn't. "All the athletes get one ticket, and they each get to bring a guest. Last year, Rabbit went with Cammie, so he gave me his ticket so Jill and I could go. Of course, that's where Jill met Andy. Who are you going with, anyway?"

"I don't know. I was thinking of Mrs. Jenkins."

The whole table turned to look at me.

"Our Sunday school teacher?" Jeanne asked incredulously.

"Yeah. She's also my Religion teacher. I thought it would be fun. You know. People would talk. But our final's that week so she might think I was sucking up. You can come with me."

"I was kind of hoping to go with Sammy," Jeanne blushed. "Jill will be going with Tommy, I assume."

We all looked over at Tommy, whose face still hadn't lost its stupid expression. Like me, he had been to the play each night last weekend. And then he had accompanied Jill to the cast party.

"And I assume Rabbit's taking Tanya," Jeanne said as the two lovebirds gave each other sickening smiles. "Who are you going with, Cam?"

"Nobody," Cammie said. "I'd give you my ticket but Liz said I had to show up."

"Well, sure. You have to dance with Trick."

Cammie flashed me a look that said she would rather dance with a fish.

"Wait a minute," Jeanne was getting excited. "Maybe you could —"
"No," Cammie said.

"You haven't even heard it," Jeanne protested.

"Maybe I could go with Trick. No."

"Trick wouldn't mind, would you?"

"No," I grinned. "People would talk even more about that."

Cammie glared at me. I smiled back.

"Oh, please?" Jeanne looked at her friend.

"You can come with me," Cammie said. "And Sammy can go with Trick."

"No. That kind of talk I don't need," I shook my head.

"Besides," Jeanne said earnestly. "I'd still end up sitting next to Sammy and you'd end up sitting next to Trick. You know you're gonna have to dance with him. 'Cause you know you're both going to be athletes of the year again."

I smiled again. Cammie glared again. She looked back at Jeanne.

"I'll think about it," she sighed.

"Thanks," Jeanne said. She turned to me and, out of Cammie's sight, gave me a big wink. It was all I could do not to laugh. I wondered if she really wanted to go to the banquet at all. I was a very lucky brother.

Tuesday afternoon was our rematch against McKay Academy for the league championship. It had been hard beating them once, and harder beating them twice. Nobody had any real illusions about the third time being the charm. And the news the Coach gave us after we had boarded the bus didn't help our confidence. Cary had stepped on a nail over the weekend and was going to be lost for the rest of the season.

By my calculations, that was maybe three hours away. A half hour bus ride, half an hour to change, and a two-hour game that either Donnie or Steve would be pitching. Season over.

That didn't stop us from having fun, though. Carl Thomason was pretty much the last guy on the team. He would pinch hit and play left field if the game was completely out of control. He had apparently spent his time watching all the rest of us, and decided that this was the time to show off his impersonations. There were guys rolling in the aisle when he did Coach. He saved me for the very end, standing up in front of the bus as it rolled to a stop in front of McKay Academy.

"All right, men. Remember, this is a team game. And we're a team. You can tell that because we all wear the same uniform. Except me, mine has a "C." And a different number, of course. Anyway, we win as a team, we lose as a team, we eat as a team, and we crap as a team. But we're a team. Even if you are doing my girlfriend, Jo-el. Now, men, we have to remember this is a game with rules. Lots of rules. Don't try to remember them all. It'll just give you a headache. Just remember that with men on first and third and less than one out or more than one out, but not one out, a ball hit to the shortstop means that the man on third has to click his heels together three times and say, out loud, 'there's no place like home, there's no place like home.' And then you'll be home. And that's good for us. So are you ready, men? Who's with me? Let's goooooo."

We all followed Carl off the bus, screaming at the tops of our voices. The McKay Academy team was already walking out to the field, and the sight of twenty screaming guys wearing ties was no doubt a little unnerving.

It was apparently unnerving enough that their pitcher hung a curve to Mo in the top of the first, letting him drive in Bobby from first with a two-run homer. And that only further set him off. In the fourth, he left a fastball out over the plate, and I crushed it. It barely missed a Volvo in the parking lot beyond the left field fence.

Donnie, meanwhile, was throwing the most effective junk of his life. Having prepared for Cary's curve and my fastball, the McKay hitters had no idea what to do with a fastball that came in as slowly as Donnie's did, or a slider that always threatened to break across the plate but never quite made it. They got their hits, but never enough of them in a row to do any real damage to us. By the end of the fifth inning, we were ahead 5-2, and the McKay coach was getting worried.

Our coach was getting worried, too, although for a different reason. Donnie was done by the top of the sixth, walking the first batter on four straight pitches. That left it up to Steve, and his first pitch, to my old friend Paul Bunyan, came down in the next county. After that, the other guys were starting to look worried as well.

"Matt!" I screamed from right field.

He looked out at me, and I motioned toward the mound. He pointed at the pitcher and raised his eyebrows, and I motioned again, doing my best to scowl at him. Matt obediently strolled to the mound to have a word with Steve. As far as I know, Matt had been to the mound only twice that season, and I was hoping that he would remember the last time and not the first.

The next pitch was grounded to Rabbit. One out.

The next batter stroked a single to right field. I fired it into Eddie on second to keep him at first.

And the next batter hit into a textbook 5-4-3 double play. Third to second to first. Denton to Cooper to Perra. One more inning to go. We were clinging to a 5-4 lead.

Coach sat down next to me while Eddie was hitting and asked me quietly if I could pitch the last.

I looked at him and gave him a grin.

"Nah," I said, in as loud a voice I could. "Steve'll finish it off."

He returned my grin.

"Hear that, Manzilla?" he yelled toward Steve. "Sterling wants you out there rather than him."

Steve's eyes grew wide. Eddie finished striking out to end the inning. I ran past Steve and clapped him on the shoulder. And he struck out the side. None of us could believe it either. We stood there in the field while Steve and Tommy started celebrating our second consecutive league championship all by themselves. Finally we wised up. And then we all started running toward them.

Mr. Carruthers returned my astronomy lab notebook on Wednesday morning. Cammie, sitting next to me, looked over at it and gave me a smile.

"A-minus. Good job, Trick."

I was numb, sitting there in a sort of hazy fog. Finally, though, I managed to stammer out a "yeah," as I glanced over at Cammie's A-plus.

"Hey, I'm the scientist," she said breezily. "Speaking of which, are you busy on Saturday night?"

"Huh?"

"I'm was going to borrow a telescope and make a few last observations," she said, looking at me out of the corner of her eye. "I need somebody there to help."

"Somebody?"

"All right, you. I need you. You're my frickin' lab partner, and you already know my whole system. Happy?"

She gave me a look that managed to convey more emotions that I would have thought possible: a dare for me to say no; her ambivalence about asking me in the first place; and there, in the back of her eyes, maybe just a tiny bit of hope that I'd agree. Of course I would.

"I'd be a little happier if you'd talk to me now and then, instead of pretending like I didn't sit next to you in class or at the same table at lunch."

"I'm sorry. It's just —"

Mr. Carruthers had finished passing back the lab books and begun his lecture. So I never got to find out what it was that was just —.

 
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