After the Energists: Rebooted Teen Years - Cover

After the Energists: Rebooted Teen Years

Copyright© 2014 by AL-Canadian

Chapter 42: Cries Like a Little Girl

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 42: Cries Like a Little Girl - After helping the Energists with their transition to their new world and body orientation, Mike is given the opportunity to relive his life with the slim chance of returning to his previous timeline. This is how his second chance at living through high school turns out. If you haven't read the first two books in this series, you may not pickup on all the details and references in this story.

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   mt/Fa   ft/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   True Story   School   Sports   Science Fiction   DoOver   Time Travel   Group Sex   Anal Sex   Analingus   Cream Pie   Double Penetration   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Safe Sex   Sex Toys   Squirting   Slow  

Coach Williamson’s Home, North London
9:52 pm, Friday, March 9, 1979

“Are you young’uns leaving, already?” Mrs. Williamson said as she watched the herd of Medway students migrate towards her front door.

“We had a great time here, tonight, Mrs. W,” Kane replied for nearly twenty five of us kids.

“The chicken fingers, wings, pigs-in-blanket and all the other foods you had for us hit the spot!” Big-Mike added as he patted his stomach.

“We’re glad you like them, and that you and your girlfriends all came over after that tough game,” our coach’s wife replied with a smile. “You’re not heading home now, are you?”

“Alice!” Coach Williamson called to his wife.

“I’m sorry ... but I was just curious as to what these kids were up to on a Friday night.”

“Uh, we’re heading over to the Labatt’s house, and we’re going to ... hopefully get Mike and his girlfriend, Lynette, and the rest of their band, oh, sorry, Jennifer ... to jam for us, Mrs. Williamson,” Jon Lunby replied as Coach Feelt and his wife, Petra, Coach St. Georges and his wife, Giselle, Coach Reid, Mr. Ballows and his wife, Stacey, plus Coach and Mrs. W. watched us slowly make our way out the front door.

“You guys and girls behave yourselves, tonight. Don’t drink and drive!” Coach Williamson shouted as I held the door for Andy as he hobbled down the steps on his crutches.

“Thanks, again for having us,” I said as I took Lynette’s hand. She turned back to Coach and his wife and added, “And feeding this ravenous horde.”

“Are you riding with us, Jon, Andi, Andrew, Heidi,” Lynette called out to our friends who were waiting at the end of the sidewalk in front of the Williamson’s house.

“You guys don’t mind?” Andrea asked.

“Heck, no. Pile in,” I instructed them as I unlocked the passenger door and hit the button to unlock the remaining doors. “One of y’all can ride up front with Volcano and me, if you don’t want to be ‘sardines’ in the back seat like you were on the way over here.”

“Being a sardine with Heidi jammed tight to me, who’d be dumb enough to complain about that?” Andrew chuckled, which cause everyone to laugh along at his humorous but true statement.

“Good, that leaves more room for me to stretch out and rest up front here with my Cuda,” Lynette replied as she waited for me to get in behind the wheel. As soon as I was in, she purposefully laid sideways across the front seat, with her head resting on my right thigh.

“We don’t need any funny business going on up there,” Jon replied.

“Yeah, we want to make it to Sam’s place in one piece, now,” Andi giggled.

“I’m not doing nothing,” Lynette called out as she ran her right hand up my left thigh to my crotch.

“No-hoe!” I chortled as my girlfriend gave my privates a gentle squeeze.

“If that’s nothing,” Heidi then replied, “I sure would love to know what something looked like!”

“Oh, you know what something is, girl. All three of us girls definitely like our somethings’, don’t we, Andi and Heidi,” Lynette lustfully replied.

“Andrea sure does,” Jon laughed and then we heard a high-pitched squeal from his girlfriend, as Jon obviously gave her some type of unexpected body contact.

“And you’ll probably find out for yourself, shortly, Andrew,” Heidi softly said.

“Ooohhhh!” Lynette and I offered in unison as I turned my dad’s big Buick around in one of Mr. Williamson’s neighbor’s driveways.

“Do you think Sam, Paul and Cathy will have everything set up for you guys to start playing?” Andrea asked to change topics within the car.

“They said they were going to grab a bite to eat after the game and then run to get things ready,” Lynette replied. “I would think they’d be back from Kelsey’s by now, right Cuda?” Those three, plus Bradley and Elizabeth, and Joanne and Paul told Lynette that they weren’t comfortable going to Coach Williamson’s team get-together but would met us at Sammy’s guest house after eating.

“Probably,” I softly answered as I turned left onto Fanshawe Park Road from Coach Williamson’s subdivision.

“I hope they’re there, so you guys can start playing as soon as we get there. I just love listening and dancing to your music,” Heidi added.

When I turned into the Labatt’s estate and drove down their long drive, I saw Sammy’s Bronco and the McGregory’s car sitting in front of the guest house. We were the fourth car in the convoy of vehicles coming from Coach’s house. “They’re here!” Heidi called out as she spotted Sam’s Bronco a few seconds later.

“Zip him back up,” Andrew joked to Lynette as my girlfriend still hadn’t moved her head from my right thigh.

“But I ain’t done, yet,” Lynette faux-mumbled before she popped up alongside me with a huge grin on her face. Then for added effect she rubbed her jacket sleeve over her mouth and giggled, “Yummy.”

“Lynette!” Andrea shrieked at her best friend.

“She didn’t do anything, Andi,” I replied as I turned to look at the young brunette. “She simply rested her head on my thigh as I drove here.”

“Spoiled sport,” Lynette snidely said as she swatted me on my right shoulder.

“‘Bout time you guys got here,” Paul said as he opened the door for the mad rush of players and their girlfriends.

“How long have you guys been here?” Gary Dander asked his Bryanston neighbor.

“Just about five minutes,” Cathy responded from the inner door to the Labatt guest house.

“Long enough to get everything ready, I hope,” Cathy Cromartie, Bruce Smyth’s girlfriend said as they walked into Sam’s guest house, our rehearsal location.

“Hey, Cathy! Nice to see you, again ... Oh, we’re pretty much set to go ... when everyone gets here,” Samantha replied to the rail thin eleventh grader.

“Where did Kane, Debbie, Mike and Sylvie get to? I thought they were the lead dogs in our convoy,” I asked Bruce as he took Cathy’s coat and tossed them into the pile behind the sofa.

“I think they were going to hit the LCBO (Liquor Control Board of Ontario) and the Beer Store,” Bruce said as pulled his girlfriend down onto his lap, in the leather recliner.

Sam immediately looked at me and Lynette as her father, even though he was an iconic brewing master, wasn’t thrilled with underage drinking. After I saw the concerned look in her eyes, I mouthed over to her, ‘I’ve got this covered, Sammy.’

With everyone but Kane and this crew here, I called out, “Hey guys...” When I had everyone’s attention, I said, “Sammy’s dad has a pretty strict, ‘no underage drinking policy’ for this place. So, if you’re not of age, stick to the FREE non-alcoholic drinks. We don’t want to get this awesome rehearsal location taken from us.”

“What if we’re almost nineteen?” Janice Littleton asked as she sat beside her new boyfriend, Matt Connell.

“Look! ... My dad and step-mom don’t mind us using this place for parties,” Sammy called out to the older kids in her guest house. “And I doubt they’ll prevent us from using it if one or two of you have a drink or beer. Just know, if my dad comes over and you’re underage drinking ... he probably will ask you to leave and not return ... EVER! He did that with a few folks from Lucas Secondary, and I warned them about his one major rule.”

“Why is your dad such a stickler on that?” Bruce asked.

“It wouldn’t be good for him or his company if something happened to one of you, after illegally drinking at his home,” Sammy replied, which earned her a few disapproving looks.

I then added, “The negative publicity or the possibility of being sued by someone who got hurt or killed by one of us ... an underage drinker isn’t something the Labatt family needs to deal with. So, uh, if you’d rather drink a few beers or mixed drinks, I hate to say this but you best take it somewhere else.”

“If you’re nineteen, my dad is fine with you drinking. Just don’t drive afterwards, please,” Sammy then added.

“Enough of this,” Paul shouted as he reached for Sam’s hand. “Grab yourself a cold one from the fridge, and let’s get ready to Rock and Roll.”

I could tell that the eleventh through thirteenth grade students were slightly miffed at hearing they couldn’t have a beer or rye and coke as we played and partied at Sam’s place. Hopefully, they’d take Sam’s words of warning to heart because I had no doubt Mr. Labatt would ask any offenders to quickly leave his property.

“Can you grab Lynette and me a Diet Cokes, Cuda,” Cathy said as she walked beside Lynette to her new Yamaha keyboard system.

“I’ll take a real Coke, Cuda,” Jennifer added as she popped open her two new saxophone cases.

I pulled out a two real Cokes and two Diets from the fridge and carried them back around the kitchen island to the three girls. I saw that Sammy had propped up my three guitars on their stands, alongside her four guitars, and Jennifer’s twelve-string acoustic guitar. After I gave Lynette and Cathy their Diet Cokes, and set Jennifer’s Coke on the end-table with mine, I asked, “So what are we going to start with? Something we’re comfortable with or do we want to use these guys here as ‘test dummies‘ for a few of our new songs?”

“How about we play that new song you wrote ... to open our ‘Southern Rock and Blues’ set, Cuda?” Jennifer said as she pulled her new alto sax from its case.

“You’re going to open that set with something other than Ain’t That a Shame?” Elizabeth asked as she and Bradley settled down on the carpet in front of the couch.

“Yeah, Liz,” Lynette replied with a smile. “We, uh, decided to save Ain’t That a Shame for the opening number of our final set, so ... Mike wrote a pretty cool blues tune we’re gonna use to open that Southern set at Glencoe.”

“What’s this cool blues song called?” Bradley asked as Elizabeth snuggled up under his left arm.

“Right now, I’m calling it, Cries Like a Little Girl, but who knows if that name will stick or not,” I replied to my friend’s query. “Sammy is joining Lynette on keyboards and Jennifer is mirroring my guitar on her alto sax ... so the mix of sounds might be a little rough, ‘till we get all the kinks worked out of it.”

(Note: This song is actually entitled, Walks Like a Lady, and was written by Steve Perry of Journey. It was released as a single in May, 1980 off Journey’s Departure album.)

“We’re ready, Cathy, Paul,” Sammy said after she moved Lynette’s Mini-Moog synthesizer alongside Lynette’s new Yahama keyboard system.

“You’ll have to picture us on stage with the curtain drawn as we start in with a minute’s worth of bluesy intro music to set the scene,” Lynette said into her microphone after Cathy hit the power switch on our sound mixer.

“Then, just before Mike starts in with, ‘She’s a Cry, Cry Baby!‘, the curtains will open and we’ll get into the meat of the song,” Sammy added to complete the imagery of how we were planning to start our requested set of music at Glencoe High School.

“Alright, Cathy, count us in,” I said after I made a few adjustments to my Silverburst Gibson guitar and stuck a few extra pics in Sammy’s vacant microphone stand.

Cathy took one final look at us to double check we were indeed ready and then softly called out, “One, Two...” before she paused and tapped her drumsticks together for a non-verbal, ‘One, Two, Three, Four’ lead-in. Paul, Lynette, and Sam easily meshed their bass and keyboards with Cathy’s drums, while Jennifer and I waited for them to jam out sixteen soft measures of blues. Both Paul and Lynette traded off on two pairs of short two measure mini-solos with Sam’s organ and Cathy’s drums holding everything together.

I smiled over at Jennifer as she swayed to the bluesy music, waiting for her time to add some backing vocals before she would add in her saxophone sound. As I was about ready to add my electric guitar to the introductory music, I peered over at Lynette and Sammy, and saw them whispering something as they played their keyboards.

As a smile came across Lynette’s face, I knew they had something to add and I figured I would hold off on playing. That immediately caused both keyboardists to stop playing and Sammy said, “I think we’d do better if I played my acoustic guitar as the backing glue to the song, and let Lynette transition from the piano to the synthesized organ-sounding blues as she feels for this song. I, uh ... it seemed like I was just cramping her style back here.”

“I can hear Sam’s acoustic sound working with your drum beat, Cathy” Jennifer said as she still swayed to the music she was creating in her head.

“I like it a lot better when you’re up here near me, like this,” Paul said as he watched Sam picked up her six-string acoustic guitar. The petite redhead strummed it a few times to ensure she was in tune with the rest of us.

She gave a head bob and said, “Let’s try it like this and see if it works.”

“From the top,” Cathy uttered before she called, “One, Two” and performed her drumstick taps once again.

It was evident right from the start that Sam’s acoustic guitar was going to improve this song’s quality. Lynette mirrored Paul’s first short bass solo with her stage piano. After Paul’s second bass solo, Lynette switched to an old school organ sound to bring fullness to that part of our introduction.

Jennifer uninhibitedly called out, “Oh yeah, I love that ... much better!” as she once more swayed to the blues sound.

After their sixteen measures, I joined in with my electric guitar and teased out a four measure wailing, ‘High-C’ note before I ripped off an additional twenty measure bluesy rift on my Silverburst. At the conclusion of that guitar run, Jennifer, Lynette and Sammy all harmonized a quadruple run of:

Da-da-daah, Da-da-daah, Da-da-daah, Da-Da-Da-Da-Da-Da-Daaaahs,” with each following run in a slightly higher pitched voice.

At the end of their fourth run, I sang out, “She’s a Cry, Cry BAAABYYYYY!” as Lynette tickled off an awesome organ riff, while I held that ‘baby’ for three additional measures. I dropped my pitch and volume on the last measure, which Lynette easily matched on her new keyboard system.

During the next eight measures before I began singing, Jennifer joined in with the rest of the band and played a biting blues’ sax rift, which ended as I sang:

She walks like a lady,
With her tender charms.
She moves like a lady,
When I’m in her arms.

She loves like a lady,
Lovin’ all night long.
But she cries like a baby,
When she’s done something wrong.

I told you once, I told you twice.
But you never listen to my advice.
If I catch you with that boy again,
I’m gonna set you free.
Oh, I’m gonna set you free.

She loves like a lady,
So soft and slow.
She feels like a lady,
Ooh, I can’t let go.

She smiles like a lady,
Smilin’ all night long.
But cries like a baby,
When she’s done something wrong, yeah.

At the end of those lyrics, Lynette called out for us to stop. When I turned to look at my girlfriend behind her keyboards, she smiled at me before she said, “That sounded pretty good but, uh...” She then paused and barely lowered her eyelids, almost to a squint. Based on those actions, I knew that she was going to offer up some serious constructive feedback regarding something I had done.

“Let me have it, Cano,” I said in anticipation of her words as she figured out the best way to say her peace.

“That sounded great, guys!” Elizabeth added during the pregnant pause in our conversation.

“It sure was! I really loved your little sax rift, Jenn,” Janice offered.

“Thanks,” Jennifer replied and then turned back to Lynette, who just finished making some adjustments to her Yahama system.

“Okay,” Lynette said to set the table for her suggestion. “This song really has two distinct flavors to it, yes?” Before I or any of us could offer up a reply, Lynette quickly decided to answer her own question. “You, Cuda, sang the soft, sweet flavor of the song, beautifully. You know, on the opening sections... ‘She walks like a lady‘ ... until you finished with the, ‘But she cries like a baby, when she’s done something wrong,’ yes?”

I simply nodded my head as I agreed with her sugary description of those first two lyrical sections.

“I really liked how he sang those lyrics,” Cathy added in response to Lynette’s initial critique.

“Oh, I did, too,” Lynette said before she repositioned herself behind her keyboards. She then looked at her keyboards as she said, “But, Cuda ... I just think you’ve got to immediately put away that sweet, sappy voice and fire up a semi-pissed off tone for the chorus. Aren’t you letting the girl know you’re upset with her ... warning her about screwing around? ... Here, listen ... I’ve adjusted the organ ... hopefully, it will create an edgier sound, which I think if you match your vocals ... this song will kill them at the start of our Blues and Southern Rock set.”

Lynette then tickled her adjusted, edgier ebonies and ivories and angrily sang:

I told you once, I told you twice,

But you never listen to my advice.

If I catch you with that boy again,

I’m gonna set you free.

Oh, I’m gonna set you free.

As she played and sang the chorus, I immediately picked up on both the forceful music and the second flavor, which she was trying to get across to me. When she finished up with her demo, she hurriedly lifted her fingers from the keyboards and looked at me with fire in her eyes.

Before she, or anyone, could say anything, I smiled at her and said, “That ... you definitely created the proper attitude, the tone, needed for the chorus, Cano.”

“We’ll all need to adjust our sound to create that edgier, sharper voice for the chorus,” Jennifer added before she put her sax up to her lips and fired off a short, raspier version of her previous rift.

“Probably everyone but Sammy, on her acoustic should elevate their game on the chorus,” Lynette replied in partial agreement with Jennifer’s suggestion. “Sammy’s acoustic is the true glue in the song, which integrates the sweet, sappy sounds with the ‘you’re-in-trouble’, edgier sounds. So, I think she, uh ... that her acoustic backing should remain constant through, yes?”

I once more scanned the varied responses from three of my female band members. I was still taken aback by each of their unique introspective processes as they mentally played Lynette’s suggested musical adaptations in their minds. Cathy was a physical mover, who played air-drums, while mentally going over the new music. Jennifer was a simple swayer, who rocked side to side on her feet during her inner musical reconstruction. That was also Jenn’s typical body response during our live performances when she was waiting to either sing or play on her saxophone. Samantha was a major head-bobber. She obviously kept track of the rhythm with that action as she created the music in her mind.

Paul had walked over beside me as I was watching the girls’ unique mental practice routines and whispered, “What’s taking them so long to get the plan down?”

“It’s just different strokes for different folks, my man. How are you and I able to picture this music right away in our heads, but you have had trouble picturing math word problems?”

“Okay,” Paul responded with a smile. “Still, when Lynette played and sang that edgier version of the chorus, I instantly got her point and knew right away how to get that type of sound from my bass.”

“I got it right away, too, and I’m kinda mad at myself for not picking up on that myself when I shared the lyrics with her the other day.”

Cathy was the last one finished with her inner creation of the song, and she said, “I’m good with Lynette’s suggestion if you guys are. Where do we want to start?”

“Can we start back at the beginning of the vocals? ... Not at Cuda’s opening ‘Cry, Cry Baby!‘ wail, but at the first verse,” Lynette suggested which everyone agreed was the spot to begin again.

“Before you guys start again, can I ask you something?” Andi said as she sat on Jon’s lap in the recliner.

“Fire away, Andi,” Lynette replied as she reached for her pop and took a short swig of Diet Coke.

“Well, you called this song, ‘Cries Like a Little Girl‘, yes?”

I immediately gave her an affirmative head nod, which caused her to smile back at me. She then innocently asked, “Well, we heard a good bit of the lyrics, already, and um, I haven’t heard those words or lyrics, yet.”

A smile crept over my face as I once again nodded at Jon’s girlfriend. “Patience, my dear ... patience. Unless someone here has something else they think we should change,” and I turned and winked at Lynette, “ ... we’ll get around to the title phrase, shortly.”

When I peered back at Andrea, she had an equally big smile on her face as she cuddled up onto Jon’s chest.

“Jenn,” I called to gain our saxophonist’s attention. “Why don’t we start at your eight measure sax rift, which created a great lead for my vocals? Everybody good with that?”

“Count us in, Cathy,” Jennifer said in response to my entry point.

On this run-through, everyone but Sam played or sang with a more turbulent sound during the choruses, which definitely created the proper tone for the song. After I sang the second edgy chorus, Lynette and Jennifer traded off eight measure solos where they mirrored my cutting thirty-two measure blues rift. All three lead instruments backed out to let Sam’s acoustic, Paul’s bass and Cathy’s drums refocus the song before I sang out the final three lyric sections.

Right before I started in with these last lyrics, I pointed at Andrea and winked at her because she was about to hear where the song title came from. Her grin let me know she was looking for to these upcoming lyrics.

I decided to use a blend of my prior sugary and edgy tones as I sang:

“(Walks like a lady)
But she cries like a little girl, little girl.
(Walks like a lady)
But she cries like a little girl.

(Walks like a lady) Walks like a lady.
(Cries like a little girl) Ooh, cry, cry, cry, cry!
(Walks like a lady) Walks like a lady.
(Cries like a little girl) Ooh, cry, cry baby

Walks like a lady,
(Cries like a little girl) Cry, cry baby.
Walks like a lady,
(Cries like a little girl) Cry, cry baby!

Lynette, Sam, and Cathy created an edgy harmony as they sang the beginning phrase of each line, which allowed me the opportunity to bust out on the, ‘Cries like a little girl’ phrasing, or the simple ‘Cry’ runs. Both Elizabeth and Andrea were now clapping along as we belted out those three lyrical sections.

In a prior practice, we created a shorter, twenty-four measure solo with Jennifer doing the first eight on her alto sax. I played the next eight measure solo, and Lynette would finish it off with an organ blast. That led into a final snappy chorus where I sang:

I told you once, I told you twice,
But you never listen to my advice.
If I catch you with that boy again,
I’m gonna set you free.
I’m gonna set you free, yeah, yeah, oh yeah
.”

Jennifer’s, Sammy’s and Paul’s instruments faded on that last line as Cathy’s drums, Lynette’s organ and my electric guitar wailed out the final sounds until my, ‘Yeah, yeah, oh yeah’ ended. To put the finishing touches on this blues tune, Cathy ran a monster drum line while I ‘whammy-barred‘ a four measure high-C note. Our two instruments led into my final, “She’s a Cry, Cry Baby!“ line, and a full band, powerful jam ending.

“Now THAT is proof positive, William that we did the right thing in getting these kids those instruments,” Katie Labatt said to her husband from the entrance to the guest house living room as Mr. Labatt simply clapped his appreciation for our performance.

Everyone in the large living room turned and looked at Sammy’s dad and step-mom as they stepped up to our practice area. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Labatt,” Lynette and I said simultaneously.

“Hey, Dad, Katie,” Sammy added as she moved over and gave her dad a hug.

“Katie, you’re spot on with your assessment of that song. And you are all definitely holding up your end of the deal by making those instruments sing or scream as they were designed to do,” Mr. Labatt added as he wrapped his arms around his petite daughter.

“Are you going to stay and listen to a few more songs, Mr. Labatt, Ms. Katie?” Cathy asked from behind her drum kit.

“If you kids don’t mind, I wouldn’t mind hearing you play a few more songs,” Katie replied and I saw Mr. Labatt make a subtle head nod towards his wife.

I took a quick read of my older teammates’ and their girlfriends’ faces, hoping to see if having Sammy’s parents here would be an issue. I couldn’t detect any negative vibes or looks from anyone, so I started to say, “You’re more...”

Before Bruce Smythe jumped in with, “We’re glad to hang here in your guest house, Mr. and Ms. Labatt, and uh, you’re more than welcome to stay and hear these guys play.”

Right as Bruce finished up his statement, some car lights shone through the windows indicating Kane, Big-Mike and their girlfriends had arrived from their trip to the LCBO and the Beer Store. I then saw a slight bit of consternation creep over his face, and I immediately thought of Mr. Labatt’s rules regarding alcohol and underage drinking.

“Mr. Labatt, Ms. Katie,” I called to get their attention. “A couple of my older teammates, who just pulled up, made a stop at the, uh, liquor and beer stores. They don’t ... we haven’t had a chance to tell them about your house rules regarding underage drinking. So, uh, if you see them with a ‘2-4’ or bottle of booze ... could you let me or maybe Sammy say something to them about the house rules?”

“That would be a good idea, Mike. Thanks,” Mr. Labatt said as he and his wife walked over to the kitchen area and adjusted a couple of wooden bar stools to sit upon.

After the two home owners sat down, the inner door to the guest house opened. Big-Mike held the door for his and Kane’s girlfriend, with Kane taking up the rear. I saw that Sylvie was carrying a bag with a couple of liquor bottles in it, and Kane had a ‘2-4’ of Labatt’s Blue in his right hand.

As they said their hellos and asked what they missed, I looked at Sammy and saw that she really wanted me to do the explanation of her dad’s house rules to Kane, Mike and their girlfriends.

When Kane asked, “Who’s up for for a Blue?” ... I quickly chimed in with, “Kane, guys ... if you’re not nineteen, Sam’s dad and mom don’t want anyone drinking in their home or on their property. As I told the others already, Mr. Labatt doesn’t condone underage drinking and he doesn’t need the negative publicity or legal issues associated with having underage kids drinking in his home. I know you’re nineteen, Kane, so you’re good but...”

“You’re kidding, right?” Debbie, Kane’s girlfriend chuckled as she looked around at our friends sitting around in the chairs, couch or on the carpet.

“I’m afraid Mike’s not kidding,” Mr. Labatt replied in his deep baritone voice, which caught the newcomers by surprise. When the four older students spotted Mr. and Mrs. Labatt at the kitchen counter, Mr. Labatt added, “While I obviously want people to buy my alcoholic drinks, I only want folks to drink it or any alcohol, who are of legal age. As Mike said, if you’re nineteen ... by all means have a beer or mixed drink. However, if you’re not of age ... and you still want to drink, you’ll have to take your party somewhere else. I’m sorry, but underage drinking is a definitely not allowed here.”

“We’re good with that, Mr. Labatt, Mrs. Labatt,” Mike Horichek said as he took the bag with the liquor in it and set it on the kitchen island. “I, we, didn’t know that that was a rule here, or we never would have brought this into your home. Is it okay if we leave these bottles here on the counter?”

“It sure is,” Katie Labatt replied with a smile. “And we’re not upset with you for bringing something here, which you didn’t realize was a no-no.”

“Kane, is it?” Mr. Labatt queried my older teammate. “Are those Blues cold?”

“Yes, sir,” Kane confusingly replied.

“Well, if you’re nineteen and want to have one, be my guest. Would you mind passing a couple over here for my wife and I?” he asked and gave Kane a subtle wink and small smile.

Kane’s frown quickly changed to a grin as he set the two-four case on the island and tore open the cardboard top of it. “Here you go, Mr. Labatt,” he said as he handed two long-neck bottles of Blue to the owner of the brewing company.

“Thank you, Kane,” Mr. and Mrs. Labatt said in unison.

“We appreciate you kids respecting our rules,” Katie Labatt said as her husband popped the cap off her beer. “Because of that, whenever you come over ... we’ll make sure that the fridge is stocked with all types of pop, and the cabinets have chips and other snacks for you to enjoy. So, uh, feel free to grab a cold drink from our fridge, there.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Labatt,” Sylvie, Mike’s girlfriend replied. Mike then walked behind the island to the fridge and pulled out two Cokes and one 7-Up.

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