Getting It Wrong
Chapter 10: Basketball
Copyright© 2016 by G Younger
Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 10: Basketball - Hunter Jacobs is a lonely old man with a checkered past sitting in a nursing home waiting to die when a woman from his past walks in and makes him an offer. WTF? Do your worst... Hunter should have thought this one through.
My body continued to grow at a steady pace, and I was getting pissed at what Nancy had done to me. I continued to ache all the time, and my coordination was awful. I was now five-six, and weighed 142 lbs. I found I was going through other changes, too. My chest and shoulders had started to fill in and broaden, and chest hairs had started to grow in.
Two things, besides being clumsy, bothered me. My voice had started to change. Zoey and Tracy thought it was the funniest thing when my tenor would break into a deep rich bass. The other thing, and this one really sucked balls, was I had acne. Not just on my face, but also on my shoulders, back and butt.
The guys in my gym class had begun to make fun of me about my zits. One day in the shower I'd had enough of their taunts and got a little payback.
"Hey, Hunter, how can you tell if you have acne?"
I just rolled my eyes.
"When a blind man can read your face."
"What do you call a zit on a blonde's ass?"
Of course I had blonde hair.
"A brain tumor."
I'd finished my shower and decided to end their fun.
"How can you tell a man from a little boy?" I asked.
My tormentors just shook their heads. You know how some guys are showers and others are growers. I was a shower. My cock was now six inches long when limp. I just pointed at my dick and the other little boys decided this game wasn't any fun anymore. I grinned as I walked out because it was Hunter 1 – Tormentors 0.
After school I reported to the Metcalf Middle School gym for the first day of basketball tryouts. The Varsity had claimed our gym, so we had to walk over to ISU and use the University's Middle School facilities.
Tyler had begged me to come out because they were worried they wouldn't have enough players for a JV team. The magic number was ten. If fewer guys than that came out, then they would just have a Varsity team. If there was just a Varsity team, he was afraid that IF he made the team he would never see any court time. He promised it would be fun, and we would gain much needed experience.
I had been on the fence if I wanted to go out this year. I wanted to play, but my growth spurt had played havoc with my coordination. It was almost even money if I would trip over my own feet if I ran down the court. The other problem I had was that running made my ankles, knees, hips and back hurt.
Tyler saw me and ran over.
"Thanks, Man! We have exactly ten with you," he said with a big smile.
One of the forwards, Max Albright, had run by me and smacked me in the back of the head.
"What the fuck!" I'd exclaimed.
"Hey, settle down. I was just joking around," Max said. "I swear nerd boy, you can't take a fucking joke."
I'd never hung around Max or most of the guys on the team. I had no desire to be bullied. I started to regret my decision to play when a whistle blew. I cringed when I saw our coach, it was Vice-Principal Elliot. He got us organized and we started off doing layup drills. Out of the ten of us only three were able to make a simple layup. Of course Tyler did. As did Al and Neal, call me Buck, Buckley. Buck was rail thin and always had a goofy smile on his face.
I had a spectacular fail. The drill was pretty simple. You started from the free throw line and dribble the ball to the basket and shot a layup. I first dribbled the ball off my foot, now that I had a size 12 shoes, and then I'd done a face-plant after I retrieved the ball and started towards the basket. I had a pretty good gash over my left eye that had bled like crazy. I think it looked worse than it was because Ace Tucker, the next shortest guy on the team at five-eight, fainted. Of course Max thought the whole thing was funny as hell.
Coach Elliot, being the only adult, wasn't sure who to go help first. I'd grabbed a towel and went to the locker room to see how much damage I'd done to myself. I took just one look and knew it would require stitches. I cleaned it up and applied pressure to help get the bleeding stopped. When I came back out, Ace was sitting up and looked embarrassed.
"Coach, I think I need a couple of stitches."
"Okay, we need to call practice today. I'll take you over to the student medical center and we can get you fixed up," Coach Elliot said.
Tyler came up to me and shook his head.
"Don't bitch at me, I'm doing this as a favor to you," I said.
"I know, but what was that? You and your clown shoes are going to get you killed," he teased.
I called my aunt and she met Coach Elliot and me at the Student Health Services building. I got three stitches and then my aunt and I walked home. I was actually pleased how the first day of practice had gone. I hadn't had to run at all.
I should have gone with my first instinct, and not gone out for basketball. This time I never even made it to practice. On the walk from U-High to Metcalf, we all stopped at the 7-Eleven to get something to eat. We had all given Ace a hard time about being a pussy because he'd fainted at the sight of blood. I had gotten a pass because I'd tripped over my own feet, for the most part, because having fainted was way more fun to tease someone about.
That was when my past life caught up with me. I saw a Mustang pull up and John Campbell got out; he was one of the guys who I'd fought because of Lisa last time through.
"Ah, Shit!" I said as I saw he had seen me and had murder in his eyes.
Someone must have clued him in that I was the one who talked to his ex-girlfriend about what he intended to do to Lisa. I handed Tyler my rotisserie dog, the ones they put under a hot lamp and are there for days; and my duffle bag was handed to Al.
"If it looks like I am getting the shit kicked out of me, have the clerk call 911," I suggested to no one in particular.
"Dude, why is he mad at you? I don't think you should go out there," Al said.
"I need to get this over with," I said as I strode to the door and pushed it open.
"Come on. Let's watch the nerd get his ass kicked!" Max shouted behind me.
I looked back and the team had followed Max out into the parking lot to see just that. If John hadn't been here, I would have kicked Max's ass. The nerd cracks and his obvious glee to see me get hurt pissed me off. I noticed none of my teammates, even Tyler or Al, had offered to back me up. I put them out of my mind as I stepped through the door to face John.
I think John was surprised when I walked out with confidence. He had heard the rumors about Bill Ciano and his bullies. Even though John was on the football team, I think he had some momentary doubts. I had no intention to let him kick my ass. I might not have been as big as him, but I'd learned how to kill someone with my bare hands. I think I was a little overconfident, because my body wasn't in sync with my mind yet.
I also expected the normal high school fight, where there would be taunts and then one of use would retaliate and shove the other. If things got that far, and no one broke us up, then the fist would fly. I hoped my teammates might step in and stop this before there was actual bloodshed.
John was pissed because his ex-girlfriend, Barb, had told everyone what a truly despicable human being he was. She confirmed that he and Tim, Brad's older brother, had taken advantage of a couple of the other football players' girlfriends. Some of the girls hadn't known because they were passed out at the time. That had almost gotten him killed by his teammates.
So, when he threw a huge hook that caught me in the temple I was surprised and stunned. I'd broken my first rule when there was going to be a fight; strike first and end it. Somehow I stayed on my feet and covered up as he rained punches down on me. I surprised him when I hit him with a combination jab and then a solid upper cut, which put him on his ass. While John was down, I decided to end this and kick him in the head. Of course my toe caught on the pavement and I fell over him and scraped up both of my arms as I tried to catch myself.
We both had time to get back on our feet. John had me with his reach, strength, and size. We were pretty equal on speed. My only advantage was experience. The flaw with my plan to kick his ass was I couldn't get my body to do what I needed it to. He was able to hit me in the right eye several times and it had begun to swell shut. I think I'd broken his nose again and had cut him above his left eye, so his face was a bloody mess. We looked like two pugilists who had somehow survived until the fifteenth round when the police finally arrived. I think we were both grateful when they handcuffed us and put us in the back of the squad car.
On the ride to the station, John had recovered enough to make a threat.
"When I get you alone next time, I will kill you. Do you hear me? You're dead," he said as he glared at me.
I don't think he realized that I could still do some damage. I pushed off the seat and brought my forehead down over his right eye and knocked him out. I caused a fountain of blood to start to flow all over his face.
"Son-of-a-bitch!" the police officer in the passenger seat yelled when he heard our heads come together.
John's head smacked into the partition between the front and back seat as the brakes were slammed on, bringing us to a sudden stop. A split-second later a car slammed into our rear fender. My head cracked into the window when we were spun around from the impact. The policeman, who had been driving, held his wrist when we finally stopped. I guessed he might have sprained or broken it while he held onto the steering wheel. His partner wasn't so lucky. He had been catapulted into the windshield and left a spidery crack and a trace of blood, and he seemed to be unconscious. If this had happened ten years later we would all have been fine because we would have all worn seatbelts.
The policeman driving called for assistance over the radio and got out to check on the other driver. I could have kicked myself as I wondered why I had reacted the way I had. All I could think of was I would end up at military school again because of this. The only saving grace was the fight had not occurred on school grounds this time. I had also given as well as I had taken. I hoped this would discourage Brad's brother Tim from taking me on.
I formulated a plan on the ride in the ambulance to the hospital. The key to get this to work was my uncle. I needed him to believe me and help me through this. I was pretty sure my aunt would not be happy to have a little thug live with them. At least that was what she had said when I'd gotten into all the fights before.
My biggest fear was the car accident. My actions had caused two police officers to get hurt. My previous training would serve me well during an interrogation. The police in Normal were amateurs compared to what I'd been put under in my previous life. My only hope was to pin it on John. I was sure the police hadn't seen me head-butt him. If that was the case, it would be his word against mine and I would have a fighting chance.
By the time my aunt and uncle made it to BroMenn Medical Center my right eye had swollen shut and my upper lip looked like Mick Jagger's. I also had a sizable knot on my forehead where I hit my head in the car accident. It turned out the driver of the car that hit us was in a Ford Ranger pickup truck and was fine.
"Hunter, are you all right?" my aunt asked.
What the hell, did I look like I was alright?
"It looks worse than it is. I'll be okay," I assured them.
"The police want to talk to you," Uncle Dale said.
"About that, I need to talk to you," I said looking at my uncle. "I also need an attorney before I talk to the police."
"What did you do?" Aunt Marcy accused me.
I recognized the wild look in her eyes. I was truly fucked when she got that look, because there was no way to reason with her. This time through I had only seen it used on Jennifer when she sent the police to the University President's house. In my last go-around, it had become a common look after I started fighting the guys who had used Lisa. I had a bad feeling in my gut.
"Aunt Marcy, I assure you I was attacked. I'm more worried about the accident while I was in the police car. I think John will try and place the blame on me for the accident and I would think we would want legal counsel to protect the family," I said as I tried not to react to her tone of voice.
"I'll call Bob and then go talk to the police," Uncle Dale said.
I assumed Bob was an attorney.
"Tell us what you did to cause this," Aunt Marcy demanded.
"Marcy, let me take care of this," Uncle Dale started.
"If he is a troublemaker, I don't want him around our girls," Aunt Marcy said.
I just dropped my head and shook it. I think Aunt Marcy realized what she had said and turned and left me and Uncle Dale alone.
"I promise to tell you the unvarnished truth," I assured him.
"Okay. Let me call Bob."
After the doctors were done with me I was taken to the Normal Police Department and put into a holding cell until my lawyer and uncle could see me.
Bob turned out to be one of my uncle's golf buddies. He was a big man and stood at least six-four and weighed close to 300 lbs. He was a likable guy with an easy smile. I could see why a jury would like him.
"Dale, I'll have to ask you to leave while I question Hunter. You can be present when he talks to the police, but for now I want to get all the facts. If you're in the room, you may be compelled to testify against him," Bob explained.
After my uncle left, Bob had me tell him everything from the beginning. The first time I related the facts he just let me tell him the story as he took notes. When I was done, he wanted to clarify some things and then he was ready for us to talk to the police.
"Hunter, answer the questions the police ask you. Wait a moment before answering, and if I have a problem with the question I'll touch your arm and you let me talk. Try not to embellish your answers. If they ask you what John was thinking or why he attacked you, let me handle it. Do you have any questions?" Bob asked.
He left the room and came back in with two police detectives and my uncle. I was happy when my uncle handed me two candy bars. I hadn't had dinner and it was after eight by now.
I will always be grateful to Bob. He made the accident a moot point when he asked the detectives why the officers had put the victim of the attack in the same car as his attacker who was also a potential rapist. When we finally left, we thanked Bob in the parking lot, and he reminded me to not tell anyone what had happened until the case was officially closed.
Of course I told my uncle everything when he took me to dinner. I finally had to ask about the elephant in the room.
"What am I supposed to do about Aunt Marcy?" I asked.
Uncle Dale scratched his head and thought about it for a moment. We both knew she didn't handle these types of things well. She had only raised girls and she didn't believe in violence. I never understood her point of view because I knew for a fact that if I pushed Zoey too far she would kick my ass, so I didn't buy it that guys were the only violent ones.
"Let me handle it."
When we got home, we had a family meeting.
"Hunter was attacked on his way to basketball practice today. The police took his statement and are satisfied he was the victim. I'm proud of Hunter for standing up to this bully. It sounds like this guy may have taken advantage of several girls at parties," Uncle Dale said.
My aunt's eyes went wide with the last revelation. I was sure she was worried about her girls and going to parties now. For now she wasn't looking at me as a bad influence.
I was a little doubtful about the rape allegations. If the three amigos had really raped girls someone would have said something by now. I would guess the girls had been willing participants, but once word got out their story changed. The rape rumors started with John's girlfriend, and she had an ax to grind.