Chapter 12: Sleep Over

By midnight, they had made love three times and were recuperating in each other’s arms, anticipating another round before the night was done.

“God!” Peter gasped as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “I’m addicted to you!”

She giggled beside him. “You’re addicted to my body!”

“I won’t deny that,” he laughed. “But it’s way more than that for me, babe.”

“I was kidding!” she replied, poking him in the chest. “You think I’m not hooked on this?” She tilted her head and accepted his tender kiss. “I love you too, baby,” she purred, nestling her face against his warm side. With her free hand, she cupped his balls, squeezing them gently before stroking his flaccid penis. “Still hyper-sensitive?”

It was after 9 am Friday when they woke up entangled in each other’s arms.

Kathy sat up suddenly and cursed, realizing she was late for school. “Dammit Sonny! Look what you’re doing to me!” she grumbled as she climbed out of bed and walked into the bathroom.

Peter grinned as he waddled to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. It was done by the time she reappeared, dressed in a tan corduroy skirt with a thin turtleneck and suspenders. She was toweling her damp hair as she paced to the counter. He poured her a cup and added cream and sugar before passing it to her.

“Do you have time for breakfast?” he asked, adding bread to the toaster.

She shook her head. “I’ll be back later. I’d skip if I didn’t have a trig test today.” She hugged him fiercely and kissed him deeply. The toaster interrupted them, and she grabbed a slice before leaving. “See ya soon.”

“Love you.”

After she left, he buttered the last piece of toast and went to his room with his coffee. He logged into his brokerage account and confirmed that his order for 2,000 shares of LOT was executed. He still held onto his MSFT Calls, adjusted his Stop Loss, and checked Oracle’s option chain. The stock had risen all week, so he felt confident taking a bullish position. He looked at the May 25 and 30-dollar strike prices. The May 25 Cs were almost in the money and priced accordingly at $3.75 per contract. Open interest was almost 1000. The 30 Cs were cheaper at $1.25 but had low interest. He did some mental math and ordered 100 contracts of each, spending $50,000, including commissions. Once the funds settled, he set his Stop Losses and called customer support to transfer $5,000 to his KeyBank checking account. The agent said the funds would likely be available that afternoon or Monday.

He completed most of next week’s curriculum in a few hours. Once ahead of schedule, he returned to the programming and coding for their new game. He lost himself in the code, writing sequences through his editing software before testing them. He blinked in surprise when he heard the orange goblin pull into the driveway, followed by two doors closing. It was almost 4 pm. There was a brief knock on the front door, and then Kathy and Alan entered excitedly. He wheeled himself into the living room to find them grinning over a box full of orders. He whistled.

“I know, right?” Alan laughed. “We still have to stop by my place to get the copies I made over the last two nights. Wanna come?”

Peter hesitated for a minute. “Yeah, um ... actually, I’d like to stop somewhere else along the way.”

Kathy noticed his intent expression. “What’s going through your pointy little head, babe?”

He glanced at each of them and sat straighter in his wheelchair. “How would you guys like to each have a cell phone?”

Since it was a Friday night, Alan was free from family and school obligations and allowed to stay the night at Peter’s house. It was naturally smoother when Peter asked Mrs. Shoemaker in person. The thin, resilient Korean woman was bubbly and energetic even on bad days. But when she saw Peter in his wheelchair—escorted by his two best friends, she went berserk with emotion. They had only made it a few yards along the walkway before she burst out the front door, crying in delight.

“Peter!” she yelled as she ran across the yard and hugged him. “Oh, Peter! It’s so good to see you, darling!” she stooped and grabbed his face. “Oh, my goodness, look at you!” she exclaimed. “You look so good! I can’t believe it.” She ran her hands all over his chest and arms, squeezing his biceps. “Are you working out, too? You seem fit and healthy—”

He weathered the attention stoically, though his cheeks flushed from all her attention. “Hi, Mrs. Shoe,” he grinned back. I’m doing well, thanks. It’s good to see you again. I’ve missed hanging out with you guys.”

Mrs. Shoemaker turned and smiled warmly at Kathy. She had to rise on her toes to hug the young woman, but her gesture was no less affectionate. “Kathy, you look stunning! My God, girl! You’re so lovely!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Shoemaker,” she replied with a bashful smile.

Alan left to collect the copied disks. When he returned, he pecked his mom on the head. “Okay, Mom, we’re headed out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She gazed at him shrewdly and barked something in Korean.

He slumped his shoulders and answered her. He handed his backpack to Peter. “Be right back,” he muttered. When he returned, he carried another bag with a change of clothes. He was chewing on his toothbrush as he approached.

“Have fun and stay out of trouble!” his mom called after them as they loaded the Orange Goblin and climbed in. Alan whooped out his window like a sailor on shore leave after months at sea.

On their way home, they grabbed a bucket of Colonel Sanders’ finest and a twelve-pack of Dr. Pepper. They sat around the dining table eating greasy chicken while exploring their new Kyocera cellphones. After a heated trial of rock paper scissors, the sides were distributed fairly so that Peter got the mashed potatoes and Kat and Al split the coleslaw.

After eating and cleaning up, they began processing the game orders, carefully distinguishing disk sizes, and requested games. By the time they were finished, Peter had updated the spreadsheet, revealing a gross profit of $9,500. “That’s not including the last batches of disks, mailers, and Kat’s travel expenses,” he explained. “But still, we are doing fucking amazing! I never dreamed we’d get this far, this fast.”

This prompted a spur-of-the-moment Board meeting.

“So where are we at with Canyon Shooter?” The Korean boy asked idly, spinning in circles in Peter’s wheelchair. Peter sat on a wooden chair before the computer while Kathy sat on the bed with her toes on his thigh.