Loving My Bunny Girl - Cover

Loving My Bunny Girl

Copyright© 2008 by Allan Joyal

Chapter 7

Friday, October 20, 2045

Principal Smith was better than his word. Wendy Wilder had a complete transcript showing her previous three years, and the teachers all were accommodating and helpful. Sadly, first period proved that despite the efforts of the teacher, Principal Smith and me, some more transfers would be occurring. Jack Lawson proved to have absolutely no interest in fighting the pheromones and after I pushed him back into his chair three times I had to bear hug him into unconsciousness to stop the disruption to the class. Principal Smith shook his head when he stopped by halfway though the period and had one of the security guards carry Jack back to the office to recover. But he kept smiling and promised that it would get easier. Unfortunately we soon discovered that it could get worse. During Mrs. Barlow's civics class Tameka Evans keep shaking her head and looking over at Wendy and I, finally she raised her hand and all but begged to be given a new seat on the far side of the classroom.

"I don't know how Hector can sit there and pay attention," she said. "It's taking all my concentration just to stay in my seat, and he's participating while sitting right next to her."

Of course, after this a couple more students complained and Mrs. Barlow ended up completely rearranging the seating. Later classes had the same patterns, and by the time our last period rolled around, the seating for Wendy and I was in a back corner with a space of at least ten feet to the next row of seats. I tried to keep a cheerful façade through all of this, but spending a whole day keeping just about everyone at arms length was wearing. The only good was that Coach Davis had come down hard on Darryl during practice on Thursday, so he and his minions left us alone. I doubted that they would choose to exercise any self-control if they came into contact with Wendy and avoiding that fight for as long as possible was one of my major goals at the moment.

Evening

After the last class let out, I walked Wendy over to the faculty parking lot so that she might ride home with Laura. This was the night of the big game against Central High School, and the team was expected to get ready early after a catered meal. Laura smiled and promised that she and father would come to the game, and that they had plans to bring Wendy. "Principal Smith has arranged an escort for Wendy for game days. She'll be able to watch in the stands with us," she told me as Wendy was buckling up her seat belt.

For some reason the thought that Wendy was going to be at the game energized me. I know people laugh at the idea of love at first sight, but part of me was beginning to admit that while lust was always there when I was around her, her quiet dignity and gentle nature was opening my heart up. The early faint smiles had grown to wondrous expressions of pure joy and I wanted to see them more often.

I watched Laura drive away and then headed over to the locker room, where I had the displeasure of seeing Darryl standing outside, bragging to his friends. "Yeah, Central is supposed to be this rough team, but I can take them all by myself," he was telling the crowd at the door. "They won't keep me out of the end zone tonight. Expect at least four touchdowns for Independence, and I will score all of them."

I shook my head and prepared to walk by when Darryl noticed me. "Well, if it isn't the animal lover who hid his perversions by pretending to be a pure," he spat at me.

"You know freak fucker, I've heard about how that little rabbit girl can get a man hard just by standing near him. My friends and I plan on showing her was some real men can do, and give it too her all night long. She'll never want to be with you after that."

I looked and the eyes of Darryl and his friends were almost glazed over with lust.

His taunt was not exactly unexpected, and my only regret was that I had been unable to approach some of my friends about helping me in warding the perverts away from Wendy. I kept walking and was about to enter the locker room when I heard a soft feminine voice to my right calling my name.

I looked over towards the voice and saw Irene dressed in a cheerleading top and shorts waving to me. Irene is a bird hybrid, and the only "angel" at the school. Most hybrids of winged creatures in the area either do not get wings, or wind up with their arms becoming wings. Irene had been lucky and her wings came out of her back. She did complain that purchasing clothing was difficult because the shape of the wings made sliding cloth over them almost impossible. She did have a couple outfits that could snap around the wings, but mostly she wore halter-tops or backless outfits.

Irene has long black hair and a seemingly permanent smile, and that smile became even bigger as I approached her. She actually jumped over to hug me before speaking.

"I should have known a stud like you would end up with the most perfect woman in school," she said. "I guess I lost the opportunity to grow up and then sweep you completely off your feet."

I had to laugh. Irene had been a fairly shy brunette attending middle school when her bout with MORFS added wings, and a limited level of wind manipulation. Her control was limited, but it did grant her the ability to fly, something she used as part of her cheerleading routines. "And here I never thought you cared," I said.

Irene blushed. "That's never been true, Hector. Just about all the underclassmen have heard tales about how to faced down Bart Blevins in the hall after he tried to cut Veronica's tail off. You said it was about him not getting expelled, but I've seen pictures that some of the witnesses took of your face when you started yelling at Bart. You were far too upset for it just to be about him not getting expelled. However, this isn't about that tonight, and you should get ready for the game soon. I just wanted to tell you that I want to help you protect the bunny girl. I've heard about her powers and while I can't break heads like you, I do have some ability with my wind powers to drive people back."

I looked over at Irene for a moment, and was surprised to see that she looked me in the eye without flinching. In a momentary decision I gave the slightest of nods before entering the locker room to get ready for the game.

Inside the locker room, most of the players were having quiet meetings with the coaches. Central High has been the dominant football school in the county for the last six years, and everyone wanted to finally defeat them. Unfortunately their reputation meant that young men with hopes of playing college football often changed homes just so they could attend Central and play for the vaunted Central Cougars.

I was participating in the run defense discussions. Central did not have much of a passing game this season, but everyone feared their main running back, a huge bruising MORF survivor named Louis Nmabude. Rumor had it that he was visiting some relatives in Africa when he contracted MORFS and had more than a little rhino DNA spliced in. The coaches did not speculate much on that, but for two years he led the state in rushing, running with a bruising straight ahead style. The plan was to have the defensive line tie up blockers while Tristan and I filled gaps and made tackles. I had a feeling that it was going to be a long and painful night.

Tristan refused to talk to me before the game, and I found myself worrying about how good our communication and teamwork was going to be on the field.

From the opening kickoff it was clear that I had underestimated just how brutal the game was going to be. Louis was in top form, and even when the defensive line held their ground, I found myself meeting him at the hole in bone jarring collisions. Central never wavered from their simple plan of keeping the ball on the ground and letting Louis pound against the defense. In the end the defense stiffened around the twenty as the safeties came up to crowd the line, holding Central to only a field goal. The defense left the field with a moral victory but I was already tiring and sore after just one series.

Darryl obviously had not listened to the coaches and was trying to make good on his earlier brag. We have a great running back in Nathan Sinclair. He is a dog hybrid with a lot of greyhound mixed in. Watching him run is always a thrill because he seems to hit holes before they appear. Unfortunately, Darryl had decided that he was going to take most of the running plays and the drive quickly stalled when three QB options in a row had Darryl keeping the ball and gaining no yardage.

As the punt team ran onto the field coach Davis was screaming at Darryl. I think I heard him threaten to bench him for the remainder of the season, but then it was time for the defense to make a stand.

Central kept to the same basic plays, with the Louis taking the ball straight ahead five plays in a row and moving the ball to midfield. Then they showed that the offense had an additional weapon, and as I once again ran into the fullback just past the line of scrimmage I realized that the handoff had been a fake. Before I or any other player on the defensive line could shout, I could see the QB throw a long ball towards the right sideline. The pass was terrible and the receiver had to stop and wait for it to reach him, but Vincent had been just as fooled by the play-fake as I had and despite a valiant effort was unable to race back and make a play. The Central receiver easily gathered in the ball and ran the last few yards to the end zone, making the catch for a touchdown. After the extra point we found ourselves down ten to nothing, with the first quarter almost over.

The rest of the first quarter and the second quarter proved to be a true battle.

Tristan had yet to speak to me, or even stand near me, but he was finally reading the blocking better, and with both of us hitting the holes Nmabude was taking, we held Central without a first down for the rest of the half. Unfortunately Darryl was proving rather recalcitrant about running our normal offense, and the offense never managed to get the ball past midfield. We ended the half at the same ten-zero score we started the second quarter with.

As we walked off the field to the locker room for half time, Tristan came over to me, obviously ready to speak about something. However, I was watching Coach Davis with Darryl. Coach had been shouting most of the half, but now he had grabbed Darryl and was hissing a series of short and pointed sentences. I could not clearly hear what was being said, but the hurt and bitter look in Darryl's eyes made it clear that Coach Davis was not showering him with praise.

Back in the locker room the coaches started reviewing what was working and not working on the field. The halftime break was not too bad for the defense. We had done our job, and Coach Davis singled out Tristan and others for praise, saying they had picked up their game in the second quarter. He warned us to watch for more play fakes, but the emphasis had to be stopping Nmabude.

After the group meeting, the coaches wanted to talk to the defensive line and work on changing their assignments, so Tristan had a moment to come over and talk to me.

"I guess I have not dealt with everything very well," he said.

I found myself looking at him as one of the trainers completed retaping my right ankle. "We're high school students. Who expects us to deal with issues well?" I asked.

Tristan laughed for a moment. "Yes, but I have the same biology class you do.

I've heard the same facts. I can't pretend that I still believe the lies Darryl and Gina spout during meetings. But I was just afraid. My cousin went through MORFS and now spends most of his life either in tanks or in the ocean. His body has to be kept hydrated to survive, and his legs can no longer hold him upright. It's been a horrible experience having to watch him lose the energy he once had. I've always feared that such would happen to me, and it became easy to keep those who had suffered MORFS far away.

You don't though."

I shrugged. "I still go to the meetings though. So it's not like I've been better than you," I replied.

Tristan shook his head. "No one except maybe Gina believes that you have any real interest in the meetings. In the last two years you have done more to protect the students here, than any of the powered survivors; most of the students know that! And I've seen you escorting that beautiful bunny girl around. Whatever power she had is strong enough to bring most boys to their knees just in passing I hear, and you stand next to her, hour after hour, without flinching. I see even the teachers look at you, and there is a respect there that I would like to get someday. Now, I've been an idiot, but I think I want to start over. Let's go lasso the rhino boy and win the football game."

I had to laugh at the smile on his face when he finished his sentence. "Rhino hunting season for the next two hours. Sounds good, but you get to do the skinning," I chuckled.

Tristan soon joined in and we were still laughing when Coach Davis called out that it was time to return to the field.

As we headed back to the field, it was clear that the offense's halftime had not been nearly as pleasant. Coach Davis entered the locker room fuming about Darryl's continued refusal to hand the ball off. His first action had been to announce that Michael Kirk would be taking over at QB for the second half. Darryl had protested, attempted to disrupt the meeting and finally been physically thrown into the showers. He would have returned if Coach Davis had not followed that up by announcing that Darryl was off the team effective immediately. Darryl lost it at this point and started shouting about how hybrids were animals and could never play football as well as a pure human. The rest of the team was filing out while he threw towels around, and I heard Eddie Gershom finally shout at him. "Get over yourself. We play this game as a team, not a bunch of glory seeking jackasses"

We received the kickoff for the second half, and Vincent redeemed himself for his first half defensive mistake by finding a hole and bringing the ball back to the forty.

Coach Davis had been in conference with Michael since we left the locker room, but that broke up and the offense went out to take the field. The Independence fans received a huge boost to their morale when on his first play, Michael made a perfect pitch to Nathan, who immediately found a seam in the defense and outraced the whole Central defense for fifty yards to reach the end zone and bring the score to ten-seven after the extra point.

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