My Teenage Life (Vol. II) - the Sophomore Year
Chapter 2: First Day Back

Copyright© 2015 by Diederik Rask

Stacy and I walked into school together; it was a great day out. The kind of day you don't want to go back to school on. We'd talked all the way there about our experiences over the Summer and about getting together as school progressed. It's one thing to know that someone as hot and sexy as Stacy wants to be with you. It's another thing to deal with the reality of it. It would be nice to be able to say she was my girlfriend, but she helped me understand her position and I respected it. She did make it clear she wouldn't mind if I had a girlfriend. She also told me to make sure they understood I would be seeing others and not be absolutely monogamous. I asked about that and how that would work; I just knew the "non-monogamous" bit would be a recipe for trouble. She told me not to worry about it. It would all work out fine.

Since our classes started in different areas of the school and our lockers were not even close, she gave me a kiss that curled my toes before heading off with a hip check and a, "See you later stud!" as she sauntered off.

"Holy shit, man. What's up with that?"

"Damn, did you see..."

"How'd you get so lucky?"

I just watched her sashay off for a moment before smiling and heading to my locker; I ignored the comments. I was on cloud nine for the moment.

The day was fairly straight forward being the first day of school. We received the semester syllabus for each class and our books. Except, of course, for band and P.E. For P.E. we were profiled so the coaches could track our progress in weight and general fitness. We did 50 and 100 meter sprints and a mile run. We also went to the weight room and got on the machines to see what our maximum bench press, military press and squat numbers were. These would also be used to determine out starting weights for working out.

Band was pretty straight forward, since most of us were "old hands" and knew where we belonged. Those who passed the auditions to join our Symphonic band this year were introduced and integrated quickly. Challenging for seats would come later. I, as the only bassoon player was, by default, first chair. Stacy was first chair in flutes.

Stacy and I were co assistants to Mr. Kawasaki. We were tasked with handing out the music and getting the band warmed up and ready to play each day. This allowed Mr. Kawasaki to walk around the room and help individuals who needed it. Though this was the Symphonic Band we were still prone to mistakes at the start of the year. Some did not practice as studiously during the Summer break as others.

While I wasn't really up to par for Symphonic Band as a bassoonist, I retained my spot as First Chair for Tenor and Baritone Saxophones. Some thought it wasn't fair but no one really complained. I was honestly liked by my fellow band members and no one felt up to challenging me for my spots. Besides, my job as first chair for the saxophone section was to get the second chair up to speed to play first chair. This wasn't difficult as Carlos was up to the task. I was to work on the bassoon parts more than my saxophone parts. I was enthusiastic to do so. I felt drawn to the instrument; it felt so natural in my hands and I knew I would master it, given the opportunity.

I was taking Geometry I and Trigonometry I, Sophomore English, Social Studies, Physics, Band, and P.E. I was able to test out of Sophomore History before Summer Vacation. I wasn't required to take a language, yet, and I didn't want to take a study hall.

To be able to do Physics as well, I had to actually get special permission. To accommodate this extra class I had to get permission from Mr. Hendricks. I would have to get my assignments for Geometry after Trigonometry. He agreed to work with me after school if I needed it, twice a week. Other than that, it was up to me to keep up with the class and assignments.

English was with Mrs. Shumacher. She would have us writing on a variety of subjects all semester. We could opt for the more difficult task of writing a story, but it had to be our own work and not contain any plagiarism. I considered this and asked her how long we had to make up our minds at the end of class. I was told two weeks, but had to keep up with the rest of the work being assigned until I made the choice to go the story route.

Social Studies was a mixture of US Government and US History with civics thrown in. It was one of those courses that I knew I would enjoy; I was one of those few who enjoyed history, learning how our government worked, and about civics and our civil duties. Sharon Dixon, Major USMC, (Ret.) was our teacher there. You'd think that as a Major in the USMC she'd be a battleaxe and little if any humor. We learned the first day that she was actually very approachable and happy to discuss the topics with us, as long as they pertained to the class. Heaven forbid you get caught working on anything not connected with her class. It was detention and a half grade on your next test if you were caught and it was spelled out in her syllabus. I knew some would tempt fate, but I would not be one of them.

I asked each of my teachers if I could get a second copy of each of my books, one to use at school and one to keep at home to work with. This wasn't the first time they had such a request, but it didn't happen often. I had to get a letter signed by my mother and a deposit on each of the books I would be taking home of $50. That was $250 that mom would have to put up; I was sure she'd do it. I was also sure that she'd take it out of my hide if anything happened to the books.

Look, I love my mother. I think the world of her, but that doesn't mean she's an angel. She's tough as nails, let me tell you! She is not someone you ever want to cross. I've learned the hard way as I've grown up that my mother ends up with friends everywhere. I won't even try to count how many times I've come home on a weekend evening to have her ask what I was doing at a particular area of town, or who I was with at such-n-such store, etc. She has a spy network, I'm sure of it. Still, she is my mother and she takes care of me. She gives me all the rope in the world to hang myself and I haven't managed to do that in three years now. I've, mostly, learned my lesson. Now I do my best not to get caught. I am no angel either, after all.


At the end of the day I had my books with me, the note for the books I wanted to get as extras to keep at home, and Stacy, Brenda, and Nicole. They all invited themselves over to my place once school was out. I was informed of this during lunch. Stacy and I shared our lunch hour. Stacy informed me that Brenda and Nicole were coming back to my place after school with us. Stacy had to come get her things. Brenda and Nicole wanted to visit and talk for a bit. I sure hoped this would not be another one of those discussions that left me feeling so embarrassed that I wanted to bury my head in the sand.

Oh, I also had my bassoon with me. I'd be lugging it back and forth everyday. Not that I minded. In fact there was a wrongness when it wasn't within a certain distance of me; holding it in my hands had a magical feel. Reeds for bassoons get expensive. You can buy them pre-made, or buy a kit to make them. I spent money on a 3D printed reed to use while I learned to make them myself. It worked fine, but didn't feel quite right. I was determined to learn to make them myself.

Making reeds for bassoons and oboes can be a pain. Every reed is different because you are making them from a type of bamboo (cane). Even though it's the same plant each one has a different density and humidity. These affect the sound they make. I made over 100 of them before I began to get good at it. Even then, I wasn't too thrilled with the process; it's very time consuming.


We arrived at my home and I got us all some water. We didn't keep any kind of soda pop in the house. That's "coke" for those of you who aren't in the know. The three beauties put their bags down by the door and made themselves comfortable in the living room.

Stacy was wearing a pair of jeans that hugged her as tightly as I'd like to be with a blouse with quarter sleeves and a bit of frill that helped keep the plunging neck line decent, though it was barely a step up from decadent. Her make-up was tastefully done and she wore a pair of gold studs in her ears. I handed her a glass of water and turned to Nicole, who was wearing a sundress in cornflower blue with flower print; it came down to mid thigh on her and swished to show off her legs nicely when she walked. I offered her a glass of water and then went back for two more.

Brenda was looking good in a classic school uniform type of outfit. Red plaid with gold and blue in it, white blouse with a tie which matched the skirt. Knee high socks and black shoes. Her hair was up in a single ponytail. I gave her a glass of water and sat down and waited while I sipped mine. I'd learned one thing over the Summer: let them talk first. I read somewhere that the one(s) who spoke first were at the disadvantage and I needed all the advantage I could get.

Finally Stacy huffed and started talking, "Okay James, you're not going to ask, are you?"

"No. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready. I take it you're ready to tell me now?"

"Sure. I'm just not used to boys who can hold back their curiosity. You're always giving us new surprises. Mostly, that's a good thing.

"Anyway, stud," she started and I groaned, "we've talked and decided that you're off the market."

"What?" Yep, that was my best rejoinder to that statement.

"We're taking you off the market. Hold on, let us explain why," she said as I started to interrupt her.

Brenda started at this point, "James, the three of us have been listening to the talk among the other girls at school. I'm sure the boost to your ego will be nice, because the consensus is that you're one of the top picks in the school. Not our class, but our school."

Nicole took it up next, "That means that the girls who would normally set their eyes on the jocks have set their eyes on you. What do you think is going to happen if they are paying attention to you and not the jocks who were expecting their attention? Just because you came out of that fight last year as well as you did does not mean it will happen again. Enough of them against you and you'll go down no matter how berserk you get." She looked to Stacy who took it from there, again.

 
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