Lean on Me
Copyright© 2025 by Danny January
Chapter 18
Romance Sex Story: Chapter 18 - The continuing chronicles of Jack Pierce. Autumn of 1982. The chronicles, in order are: 1. Feasting with a Silver Spoon 2. Summertime and the Livin' is Easy 3. Something Fishy Going On 4. Centerfield 5. Tourist Season 6. Lean on Me They are progressive and not meant to be stand-alone stories.
Caution: This Romance Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft Consensual Heterosexual Fiction
Except for me trying to look not guilty of anything, Monday was really routine. At lunch, Kim and I had a couple of people ask about swing. Mr. McClusky came over to our table and told us we’d been a big hit at the dinner. Once again, our dancing was a hot topic.
That afternoon, Coach called a couple of us over to talk about qualifying times. There were five of us. He expected Gil and me to go to regionals. He thought Aaron might qualify for backstroke, but he was currently outside, looking in. Allen was in good shape for the breaststroke. Both Allen and Aaron wanted to compete in those events against Savannah Academy. Gil wanted to improve his time on IM. “What about you, Aquaman?”
“I’d like to go to regionals with one of the top two times for each event. That’s pretty optimistic, but that’s what I’d like. If I can start in the four or five lane, that’s a huge psychological advantage.”
“You don’t need to worry about the fly. You have the four lane. Let’s see,” he said, looking at a spreadsheet. “All your freestyle events will put you in lane four or five. Lane four for fly. Swim IM, back, and breast. You’re qualified, but you can do a little better. There’s only a week between regionals and state this year. Let’s let people begin to think you own the four lane.”
“I like it, Coach. What about my fourth event?”
“Nothing will help you more than fifty free. You’re already holding down the four lane, but it’s a good chance to practice a demanding event.”
That was the plan.
I worked with some of the other guys for a bit, but at this point in the season, there wasn’t much left to do but practice. You weren’t going to develop new skills. All you could do was hone the skills you had, get proper rest, and show up ready to train or compete. I had a tremendous advantage. I’d been down this stretch before.
After school, I told Mom and Kim that I would be scaling back my lifting workouts until after State. We still had a good workout. I felt a little guilty for slacking off, but they both knew why. Kim went home, and I called Franklin from my office. I told him all about my conversation with Natalie Boorman. He laughed. He laughed!
“Sounds to me like you’ve got a good friend.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“What did she miss? What was she wrong about?” It was quiet for a minute while I thought about it. The answer was, she wasn’t wrong about anything.
“You’re no help. Thanks,” I said, and hung up. I should have called Karen. NO! That would have been terrible, if not for me, then for Franklin.
I called Sally. We talked for a long time, catching up on everything that had been going on. She was making good money working a couple of evenings a week at Merril’s Ranch. I debated sharing my conversation with Natalie Boorman.
“Sally, I had a strange conversation, and I want your input. I talked to Franklin, but he was zero help. No. Less than zero since I wasted time calling him. I’m going to tell you about a weird conversation, and I want your honest response. I need a girl’s response.”
“Well, it’s a good thing because I really suck at giving a guy’s response.”
“Okay, that was stupid, but you know what I mean. I cannot believe I’m going to share this. Don’t laugh and don’t judge.”
“Okay,” she said, slowly.
“You can’t just say, ‘okay’, you have to promise.” She did, and I shared the entire conversation. “What do you think?”
“Girls love that guys fantasize about them, but we can’t say that or we seem like sluts. Do you fantasize about me?”
“I’m not answering any of those kinds of questions. Wait. You said girls like it. Yes. All the time.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet. I hope I’m good.”
“In my dreams. Knock it off, Sally.” We talked for another half hour, and I didn’t get any more from her than I did from Franklin, and it was time to go to the center. Poop.
I picked Kim up and we drove to the center. We had a smaller group that night, but it didn’t stop Kim from showing pictures of us as homecoming king and queen. The kids all agreed that I should grow the Magnum PI mustache. I told them I would start working on it the very next day.
At the end of the night, I asked Mrs. Belmont, “Why so few kids tonight?”
“There are at least two tutors every night of the week. Their grades are coming up. Wait. You didn’t know that?”
“I guess not. I knew there were a couple of guys coming on Wednesday night.”
“At least two, every night of the week. There are six on Thursday nights, to help prepare for tests that frequently come on Fridays.”
“And their grades are improving?” Kim asked.
“Of course they are. This has made a big difference. If you bring Mac, you’ll see a lot of kids, at least for the first half hour or so. They love you guys.”
On the ride home, I asked, “Did you know?”
“I thought the number was growing, but I didn’t know there were that many. It’s pretty cool, Jack. Definitely, pretty cool. Oh, we have something special for next week.”
“Do tell.”
“Dad spoke with the owner of Computer City. Sponsors have stepped up, and they will have four new computers for us to take to the center next week. We’ll need my truck.”
“Does the center know what’s coming?”
“Miss Del Monico does.”
“Maybe we could go early and set them up. That way, we could teach the kids how to use them.”
“That sounds smart. I’ll call Miss Del Monico tomorrow and ask. You have Savannah Academy tomorrow. We have a long practice, so I can’t be there.”
“Why the long practice?”
“New girl moving up from JV. We don’t have a lot of time. She wasn’t sure she wanted to move up yet. Amanda talked her into it.”
“Amanda? No kidding. Maybe that’s your sign that she’s fine here.”
I dropped Kim off and told her I’d pick her up in the morning. She reminded me of our different afternoon schedules. It was late when I got home, but I had a lot to write about. I went to my office with a fresh journal. I looked long and hard at our plot plan and Mei’s artist’s rendition. Was that really where I wanted to be in four or five years? I started writing.
At lunch on Tuesday, I had just sat down when Coach Miller came to our table. “I’ve got a new warm-up shirt for you, Aquaman,” he said, handing me a T-shirt. I looked over at the teachers’ area before opening it up. All eyes were on our table. It couldn’t be worse than Kim’s I-Got-Crabs-in-Myrtle-Beach shirt. I opened it up. On the back was a large number one with Aquaman across the top like a football jersey. Very cool. I turned it around to see a giant bullseye on the front.
“Very funny, Coach. Actually, I love it. It’s certain to get an extra tenth of a second out of me this afternoon.
“My work here is done,” he said with a smile and went back to the teachers’ table.
I wore my new shirt to our meet that afternoon. I received a royal welcome. It was pretty funny, especially when I announced there was extra chicken bog in my best Mrs. Wetzel impersonation. I think Coach Miller appreciated our light-hearted mood, but he didn’t let it last.
“Do you gentlemen know what the greatest enemy of success is? It’s complacency. We’re going just up the road to dominate Savannah Academy, right? That’s not what they have in mind. They can’t win conference; however, they have some strong swimmers, and they would love to play the role of spoiler. Ben Lippen hasn’t lost all season, and we meet them Thursday. Don’t let Savannah surprise you. Let’s get on the bus.”
It was a quiet ride, twenty minutes down the road. We got off the bus and walked through the side entrance to the pool. I called the guys together for a quick huddle. “Gentlemen, you know I’m not big on speeches. Today, the goal is simply to win every race, congratulate them on their futile effort, and go home to get ready for Ben Lippen on Thursday. Anyone not ready to give it their absolute best effort? No? That’s it, guys. That’s my big pep talk. I’ll say the same thing on Thursday. Let’s kick butt.” We never did this, but that day, we closed ranks, stuck our hands in the middle, and hollered ‘Cyclones’.
We started strong, taking first and second in the two hundred medley relay. That set the tone for the meet. Gil and Allen took first and second on two hundred free, giving us a twenty-two to seven lead. I was up. Gil stood next to me on the deck, waiting for the whistle. Neither of us said a word. With a long whistle, we stepped up on the starting blocks. We were called to our marks, and the two hundred IM started. I beat Gil by a full second, and the swimmers from Savannah Academy finished third and fourth. It was thirty-two to twelve.
I fixated on the far end of the pool. When the horn sounded, I was airborne. Twenty-five yards without a breath, flip, take a breath, and twenty-five yards back. I was within a couple of hundredths of tying my best time of the season. Forty-two to seventeen was an almost insurmountable lead.
I had a long break between the fifty free and the hundred back. I sat near Coach and watched us continue to dominate. Savannah managed to eke out a second-place finish in the five hundred free. It was their only top two finish of the day. It was a truly dominating performance, but before the meet was over, I knew exactly what Coach Miller was going to say.
We congratulated them on their effort and gathered around Coach. “Gentlemen, I almost don’t know what to say. On the one hand, I’m very pleased with your performance. You should enjoy it.” He paused for a minute. “Okay, I hope you’ve all finished enjoying it because in two days, Ben Lippen comes to our pool. Savannah Academy is a new school, and they’re building their program. Ben Lippen is a powerhouse. It won’t be the same. Tomorrow morning, early. I saw mistakes made today and opportunities for improvement. If you didn’t notice them, come see me and I’ll point them out. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that you competed well, but don’t think we’re going to steamroll Ben Lippen. For you who are new, ask the older guys, or think back to Wando, only tougher.”
You’d think we lost. In three years of swimming, we had never trounced anyone like that. They actually had a pretty good record, but I guess we all peaked at the right time. One more meet. Ben Lippen wouldn’t be easy. What was unusual is that even though we were in the same conference, Ben Lippen was in the Piedmont region, and we wouldn’t see any of them until State, if we saw them, then.
“Hey, Coach, what’s Ben Lippen’s record this season?” I asked as we got on the bus.
“Interesting that you ask. They lost one to Northwoods Academy. They were missing someone, I guess.”
“What’s that mean for the conference?”
“Three possibilities. First, if we beat them, we win the conference. If they beat us, they win the conference since they beat the other team with the same record.”
“And the third?”
“We tie. In that case, we win conference. It’s rare, but it happens. They would have one loss and one tie, and we’d have one tie. Let’s not make it so close.”
That night Sifu Chen made our kung fu class all about basics. I don’t know how, but I think he could tell when my other athletic endeavors needed me to keep kung fu simple and basic. I sort of wanted to ask him, but I kind of liked the mystery of it, too.
I hit the sack a little early and was sound asleep when I heard something and then felt my bed move. What the heck. “Shhhh.”
“What are you doing here? How did you get in? It’s late and my parents are home.”
“Hi, I’m so happy you’re here,” Kim whispered. She pulled the blanket and sheet down off my bed. “Oh, look at you, all ready to go.” Kim could see me in the dim light from my alarm clock.
I could see her, too. She dropped her shorts and climbed onto the bed, straddling my legs. I started to say something, but she leaned forward and put her finger to my lips. She lined herself up and slowly slid down. Oh, my goodness. Here was a goddess in my room, and I was complaining.
She knew what I liked and she gave it to me in luxurious, long, slow strokes. Down, forward, squeeze, up, back, relax, and repeat. Her face, in deep shadows, said she’d given herself to the moment, and I would too. It didn’t take long, and I was over the edge and spent. It might have taken five minutes since I recognized she was even in the room. Five glorious minutes.
“Back to sleep, Romeo,” she said as she climbed off me and the bed.
“But...”
“Shhh. I’ll let myself out.” And like that, she was gone. Had I been dreaming? Holy shit, that was amazing. Kim McTighe was the absolute best fiancée in the world. That wasn’t a dream, was it? I looked at the alarm clock, then tried to fall asleep. Somehow, I knew exactly what she would do the next day.
I went in early for practice. I was certain I had that ‘just fucked’ look on my face, and I didn’t try to hide it. We’d won our meet the previous day, and I was feeling good. When I got to drama class, it went exactly as I expected.
“Hey, Baby. That was amazing.”
“What was?” I knew that was coming. I knew it.
“Must have been someone else. Probably Paula.” She hit my shoulder and we laughed. Neither of us knew a Paula. Class was about to start. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, and I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”
“Well, you were the luckiest guy in Charleston last night, at least.”
“That, too.”
We had been working through the class, each person performing a short, dramatic monologue. It was my turn. I had chosen Polonius’ instructions to his son Laertes from Hamlet. I walked to the front and looked at what had been a class of my friends. Argh.
Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame!
The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
And you are stay’d for. There; my blessing with thee!
And these few precepts in thy memory
See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch’d, unfledged comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
Bear’t that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy;
For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!
“You really like that, don’t you?” Mrs. Middleton asked.
“Yes, Ma’am. I think it’s one of the best scenes in Shakespeare.”
“It is. You got the lines down, but you enjoyed it too much. I’ll let you try again next week. You’re sending your son off on a mission he may not return from. You might be a bit concerned.”
“Poop.”
“A rather concise critique of your performance,” she laughed. “If you already knew how to do it, you wouldn’t need this class, would you? Think about his state of mind and try to capture that. You’re not alone. There has been a lot of poop.” The whole class laughed. Many of them were in the same boat. Poop.
Gizmo was up next. I expected him to do something funny. He didn’t. He recited Shelley’s Ozymandias.
“I met a traveler from an antique land,
Who said—”Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert ... Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
When he finished, the room was silent. After a few moments, Mrs. Middleton said, “That was amazing. Mr. Bixson, you have captured Shelley perfectly. Just outstanding.” She didn’t give away praise freely, and that was very high praise.
“I didn’t expect that out of Gizmo,” I said at lunch.
“No one did. You pooped.”
“Yeah, I guess I didn’t think that through, did I?”
“Like she said, if you already knew how, you wouldn’t need the class.”
That afternoon, swim practice seemed like we were all just marking time until Ben Lippen showed up the next day. I worked on turns and helped a couple of the other guys. Our relay teams worked on their starts and relays. That afternoon, my leg workout was almost non-existent. I didn’t want to be sore the next afternoon.
“Don’t believe it for a minute,” Coach Miller said. “They brought the best they have, and they are always fierce competitors.” We all knew that one of their best swimmers had a serious case of the flu and hadn’t been in school for a week. Coach was trying to keep us pumped up. We all knew the biggest enemy of success was complacency. He’d drilled it into us.
I had qualified for regionals in every event. My lowest event put me sixth, so I would race that and try to improve. I swam two-hundred IM, fifty free, one hundred fly, and one hundred breast. Ben Lippen gave it their best shot, but with one of their stars missing, we slowly pulled ahead.
By swimming what I considered to be three of the most demanding races one after the other, I got a good feel for how I might do at Regionals. I won each of them. I had a long break before my final event. We were called to the blocks for the one hundred breaststroke. Standing on the block, I looked to the other end and saw the same official who had disqualified me before.
“Coach,” I hollered, and pointed to the other end of the pool. Coach Miller walked briskly to the official’s table. I watched a very brief but animated discussion. The official would stay right where he was. That was the bad news. The good news was, Coach Miller had talked to the coach of Ben Lippen, and he was now standing next to the official. There was another animated discussion between the two. The official told us all to step down off the starting blocks, and we did.
“What’s going on?” Brian Gibbes asked.
“Remember when I got DQ’d on this event? Same official. Same event.”
When it became clear that the Ben Lippen coach was going to be right there, they called us back to the blocks. “Jack, make the same turn you plan for Regionals. Same turn,” Coach Miller hollered to me. I nodded, and we were called to our marks. I would turn with my right hand touching the wall at the waterline and my left slightly below. It wasn’t a big deal, but it’s how I turned.
The buzzer sounded and the race was underway. I tried to shut out the distraction and focus on my technique. After the first turn, I settled into a good pace. I realized that this was my very last regular-season race for Porter Gaud. Somehow, that triggered a surge of adrenaline, and I kicked it into another gear.
I touched the wall and looked at the scoreboard. Pierce, Gibbes, and two swimmers from Ben Lippen. “Three and four,” Coach Miller hollered with a smile. Brian Gibbes had just qualified for regionals with the fourth-best time. He was ecstatic.
“Fucking freshman,” I said, and he looked at me funny. I explained what had happened at my first Regionals, and he laughed. I had come in a very close second to a senior, and that’s what he called me. Everyone knew it.
The team was happy to have beaten Ben Lippen and taken the conference title. They were also happy for Brian, Gill, Aaron, and me for qualifying for Regionals. All that was true, but we had beaten a Ben Lippen team that was down a man. We congratulated them on a good effort and a good season and commiserated with them about missing a key person for a part of the season.
I talked to their coach for a minute, thanking him for watching the lane official. “He didn’t much like me watching over his shoulder, but he’s not the guy in the pool. You men put too many miles in to have some dufus DQ you because they’re not paying attention.”
“I appreciate it. He DQ’d me for that same event a few weeks ago. I’ve never been so pissed off.”
“I understand that. Right now, we’re just hoping Stretch recovers in time for Regionals.”
“I wish he would have been here today.”
He looked at me to see if I honestly wanted to compete against him. I did, and he could see that. “Stretch transferred from Miami. He took a couple of Florida State titles last year. You won’t see him at Regionals. Same conference. Different region. If he can recover and get his strength back in time, you might see him at State.”
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