MY SECRET LIFE
Chapter 2

 

After school was out, I felt a light tap on my shoulder. It was Elizabeth.

“Connor, isn’t it?” she said with a nice smile.

“And ... you are Elizabeth?” I said totally unpracticed and unprepared for talking to members of the opposite sex. “Did you really understand that mathematical formula I put on the blackboard?” I asked.

“U-huh, it must have been too much for Miss Blankenstock to comprehend,” she said with a slight giggle in her voice. “My friends call me Betty. Would you be my friend, Connor?”

Ah gee, now this happens?

“Sure can, Betty. I am only just fifteen ... how old are you?”

With a funny look on her face, she said “Almost seventeen. That’s not too ancient, is it?”

Holy crap, she’s flirting with me? I haven’t talked to my mom, ever, about girls. I might as well just wing it. After today, I will never see her again.

“I like older girls,” I said, almost dropping my books.

I obviously wasn’t hired by the government for my charisma.

“That’s nice to hear,” she said to me. “Which way do you live from here?”

I got a 50-50 chance, so since Fayetteville, North Carolina wasn’t a terribly big town back then, I said, “I live eight blocks north of Massey Hill High. How about you?” I had asked before I realized I had said anything.

“I live the same direction; could I give you a ride home?” she asked me.

“You have your own car?”

“It’s something of a hand-me-down, Connor, but it runs. Come on, anyone who can get Miss Blankenstock as flustered as you did today deserve a ride in an Auburn ‘35 Speedster. I suppose you don’t have a license to drive yet?”

“No, I’m smart enough to get through high school in two years, but they won’t let me get a license until I’m an arbitrary age mandated by the states and perpetuated by the United States of America.”

I opened her car door for her, getting a smile. It was a very nice car. I got in and closed the door.

“How fast have you gotten it to?” I asked.

“I don’t drive fast, or do anything else fast for that matter, Mr. Williams.”

I stopped her when she got to my place. I thanked her for the ride and greeted my mother who had come out to see me exiting from the vehicle. We watched her drive away.

“Who was that?” mother questioned as I walked by.

“Her name is Elizabeth ... I don’t remember ever hearing her mention her last name.”

“She seems nice,” my mom said closing the door.

“She was until I asked her how fast the car could go. Then she blew a fuse, talking about fast this and fast that. I think she’s a little mentally deranged, mother.”

“Have you ever heard the expression, ‘Fast woman’ before?”

“What does that mean, anyway?” I asked getting my schoolbooks spread out on the kitchen table to begin my schoolwork.

“A fast woman is a wanton or loose woman. Loose with her morals, willing to be lustful.” This was a method she used often to help me understand something, when I wasn’t quickly picking up things.

“Oh dear god! She must have thought I was asking her to be ... lustful around ... me? I only hope I can catch her tomorrow to make her understand what I really meant to say.”

“And what was that, Connor?”

“She is very nice, but I’m too busy for girls right now. May I leave early for school in the morning to talk to her, please?”

“If you think you need to, go ahead,” she said.

“Well, the next time she brings you home, ask her in. I would like to meet her.”

Yes, mother ... I will do that,” I said knowing I would never see Betty again.

 
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