Chapter 18

Thursday morning, there was nearly a million views on the explanation video. I put away the shield and got ready for my day. Amazingly, I felt good. Being stretched out two days in a row left me with no real side-effects.

When I got to school, there was a lot of people watching me. They knew about the video and at least a few of them must follow celebrities on Twitter. When I got to my locker, Tricia was waiting for me rather than the other way around.

“You’re famous!” she gushed loudly. “It was on the news this morning that Chris Pratt was talking about you doing a skills test with Chris Evans.”

“I’m pretty sure it was a joke, but you never know. He actually called me last night to ask about the clip. It’s huge!”

We were both excited and everyone else in the school seemed to know about it.

When I got to my first class, I decided to check Twitter while I waited for class to start. Chris Evans had posted a response to the comparison that I was younger, faster, better looking and smarter. It was a picture of him and Scarlett Johansson from the set of the last Avengers movie with the caption that he got to hang out with Black Widow.

I couldn’t let that go. I pulled up the pictures from Halloween and posted one of me and Zoe with the caption, “My Widow’s hotter. Sorry Scarlett.” and tagged both him and Chris Pratt.

I forgot about it all through the morning and was at lunch when Emma called.

“Did you really post online that Zoe was hotter than ScarJo?” she asked.

“Of course I did,” I said. “Did you see what’s been going on with Twitter?”

“DID YOU!??!” she shot back and I felt like maybe I should look something up. Sure enough, there was a few celebrity responses. Chris Pratt claimed I’d just upped the ante and there was a new follower notification from Scarlett Johansson saying that she might trade in for the newer model if we couldn’t agree to share.

“Well shit!” I said, stunned. “I think I just got propositioned by Scarlett Johansson. She can be my fifth favorite person for this.”

“Just fifth?” she asked dryly. “Who are the top four?”

“You, Zoe, Tricia and Patty. If Scarlett can cook then she’s a tough contender for fourth though.”

She laughed and told me to enjoy the attention. That it probably wouldn’t last and promised to see me at 4:30.

There were a lot of people staring at me now. Word was spreading and by the last class of the day, the teacher had noticed. “WHAT is so riveting about Mr. Russell today?” he demanded and I put up my hand.

“I think it’s easier to show you, Sir,” I said and brought my laptop up to his desk. I played the first video for him and then rolled through the Twitter war through to today. I explained to him who was posting about it and then got to Scarlett Johansson’s comments and he looked at me like I was crazed.

“You’re getting pick-up lines from a Hollywood actress and you’re sitting here why?” he asked.

I showed him the picture of the four of us from Halloween and pointed to it. “That’s why,” I told him and let him study the picture for a second.

“A compelling argument, but fame and fortune await. You could finish high school before the end of the month at this point. Why are you spinning your wheels here?”

I shrugged. “I can take all my courses online right now. I’m taking four degrees and high school. I get to set my own pace better here than I would there since I can watch the lectures on whatever schedule I need. I still get to spend time with the people I want to spend time with and I already have fame and fortune. That video made over a million dollars in advertising revenue.” I shrugged. “Why would I leave?”

He shook his head and then gave up for the day, letting us go ahead of the bell since it was only a few minutes. I put my backpack in my locker and headed off to the cheerleading practice to see what they were up to. I took a seat and waited for the girls to get changed and hit the floor. They were practicing in the gym now that it was too cold out to do it outside.

“You’re Russell?” the coach asked me gruffly and I nodded, getting to my feet and offering her my hand.

“Matt,” I said, introducing myself.

“I don’t usually allow people to watch practice,” she told me.

“I know. Lana Powers asked me to come by and talk to you.”

“Yeah, she suggested you for a Base. What do you know about cheer?” she asked.

“Next to nothing,” I admitted. “I’m aware of the outfits and the fetish, but beyond that, I’m not sure what there is to it. She suggested I’d be good at it though for some reason.”

“Yeah, most guys think it’s empty-headed bimbos that exist for sex with football players.”

I shrugged. “I presumed that wasn’t the case, since I don’t think I have the hips for sex with football players. I guessed that if that was what you needed, I wouldn’t make the cut.”

“Fair enough,” she said and when the girls assembled, she got them working on different things, having me trail along with her. She explained what they were all doing.

“So it’s more like a choreographed dance routine than the old fashioned pompom cheers from pop culture,” I clarified as she talked me through it all.

“Exactly. There’s still some actual cheering, but there’s no spelling out school names with pompoms.”

We watched it for a while and I asked what their schedule was for competitions and displays? “Do you do things at the football or basketball games or is that a thing any more?”

“We do halftime shows for the basketball games, but they don’t start for another month. We do the football games, but they’re done anyway. That gives you a month to get into shape for the first game. We also have some competitions in April and May. It’s a lot of work. If you sign up, you’ll have to work hard. I’ve heard a lot about you so I expect you to pick up the routines easily. Developing the muscle memory is where you’ll have to put in the hours.”

“I’m not so much worried about the work,” I said quietly as we moved over to the side of the gym while she watched the girls work. “I AM worried about the schedule. I don’t have a lot of free time as it is. It all works out, because my social life has been circling the drain, but lately it’s started to pick up. I’ve also had a pretty nasty falling out with Lana Powers and I don’t like the thought of working closely with her.”

“I can accommodate that,” she said, dismissively about Lana. “She’s varsity and you’d be junior varsity since it’s your first year. As for the social life, I can’t decide for you, but practice is Monday and Thursday right after school until 5. There are 36 JV games between boys and girls and there might be up to 6 playoff games if our teams get that far.”

“When are the games usually?” I asked, taking the possibility seriously.

“Usually Sunday afternoon and evening and Wednesday and Thursday nights,” she told me.

“I’d have to give up another activity to be here for the Sunday games,” I said, frowning.

“What’s on your schedule now?” she asked.

“I take a dance class on Sunday afternoon. The only other time I could take it is Thursday night.”

“So it’s a choice between learning to dance and learning to cheer. Not a choice many guys struggle with.” She glanced at me, considering me differently than she had a few moments ago. “Let’s try you out with a few of the girls and see if you catch onto this easily.”

She called over a few of the girls and between them, they explained the lift they were doing and how I was supposed to plant, what I was supposed to do to support my top and how to let her down.

It was strange, but I caught on relatively quickly and held her up easily. She was light as a feather and I didn’t feel any strain. I let her down and caught her just as easily and the coach nodded. “Not too bad. Could be smoother, but if you were to work at it, you’d have it down in plenty of time.”

“What do I need to get?” I asked. I thought I might give it a try and see if it was for me. My dance class had already taught me enough to manage through formals without embarrassing myself. I might as well give this a chance.

“You’d need indoor shoes and athletic clothes for now. We’ll have to order you a uniform since there hasn’t been a boy on the squad in a number of years. I’ll need to know your sizes for everything.”

I gave her my sizes. “Fair warning though: I’m not wearing the tights, so issue me a skirt at your own risk.”

“I’ll be sure to order the pants, but I may make you attend practice in the skirt.”

“My fiance told me to get the skirt and pompoms or no deal. I think she intends for me to wear the pants, but she’s a kinky little minx so I don’t know.”

“You’re engaged? At your age?”

“I’m attending Harvard at my age. The normal limitations don’t apply to me,” I told her. “Alright, I guess you officially got your first boy on the team. God help you with the issues of figuring out locker rooms.”

She smiled and then blanched at that thought. “Well, you’ll just have to change with the boys,” she said.

“I’m sure the basketball team will be very charitable to a cheerleader in their midst,” I said dryly.

“Think you can handle it?” she asked.

“I put four guys in the hospital on Halloween. There might not be much to cheer about when the boys are trying to score baskets with broken arms, but I’ll manage.”

“You’re going to make me pay for this, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Probably not,” I admitted. “I don’t start trouble and I don’t go out of my way to make it worse when it happens. On the other hand, I kind of expect someone’s going to see a guy on the cheer squad and assume that I’m an easy target.”

“Yeah. It’s never been an issue before.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll watch my back,” I said simply.

“Well, let me know if you have any problems,” she said.

“I will,” I told her and glanced at my watch. “I have to go now. I have an appointment with a trainer this evening.”

“Good stuff. I’ll see you Monday.”

I left and went outside to meet Zoe and Emma. I gave them both kisses and we got underway. We had a light dinner and went home to get everything ready. We put down the plastic mats under the bar and in front of the desk and set the candles out where they could be lit at a moment’s notice. We chatted about my Twitter account and I checked the latest word.

I had to laugh. Chris Evans had posted that he’d fight for his Widow and told me to name a time and a place. I started typing and posted, “Always room for another Black Widow in the Sexy Avengers. How’s April 2nd for the Cap-off? Boston Commons? Avengers vs Sexy Avengers!”

I let them read it and they giggled. “You just started a fight over Scarlett Johansson,” Emma pointed out.

“I also made it far enough away that I’ll win. I intend to go into training.”

“Where do you even find training for something like that?” Zoe asked.

“My Sifu may be able to help,” I said simply. “I take Kung Fu on Saturday mornings. I can ask him.”

“You actually intend to go through with this?”

“Why not? We can get someone to sponsor the event, do it for charity and have fun. It’s an excuse to wear the costume again.”

We laughed about it and then I turned off my phone for the evening since it was after 6. Just before 6:30, Samantha showed up and I made introductions. I led her downstairs and showed her the equipment I’d laid out and what was still in reserve.

“You weren’t kidding,” she said, impressed by the collection. “Where’s the pear? I just want to see it.” I pulled it out and let her hold it. “I’ve never even seen one outside a museum. You’re lucky. This might be the only one in the state.”

I put it away and shrugged. “I’d have thought they’d have one at the museum in Salem,” I said, surprised.

“Probably not,” she said. “The witch trials were carried out by Puritans. “They wouldn’t have gotten into sexual torture. Speaking of which, what’s your game plan?”

“Start out with what she’s expecting and move into torments that won’t occur to her once she’s sure she’s dealing with an amateur. I have a couple of surprises up my sleeve. One of which will overload her pain tolerance for sure, but it’s ... mean. REAL mean. I’d prefer not to have to play that card.”

“Do I get to know?” she asked, her eyes gleaming at the prospect.

“Not unless I have to break glass in case of emergency,” I told her. “You bring a female pain-slut that needs her breakers reset and maybe we’ll explore that torture. Until then, I hope we don’t need to break it out.”

She pouted, but she understood. A magician safeguards his best tricks. This was instant surrender.

I told them that the beds were available for them to lounge on and I went upstairs, expecting her any time now. At five minutes past seven, a black jeep pulled up to the curb across the street and she got out, checking the address and looking up at the house. I tsked and noted the time. She was already late. She strode across the street and up to the door. I was there ahead of her and opened it before she could knock.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” I said with some detachment.

“I couldn’t find the place,” she said defensively.

I took her coat and noted that she’d be punished for the offense “Did you bring a change of clothes?” I prompted her and she nodded, hefting the large purse she’d brought with her. I hung up her coat and turned on my phone briefly to text Lilly that I had company and wouldn’t be available to talk this evening. I shut the phone off and brought it with me intending to put it on the dresser.

She followed me to the basement and I stopped outside my bedroom door. I’d discussed this speech with the others and they’d all liked it. I turned to her. “This is it,” I told her. “This is the door. Behind it is submission and torment and surrender. No one can force you to open the door. That choice is yours. Relish it, savor that choice. It may be the last one you make for a long time.”

She looked at me as I spoke and my eyes bored into hers expectantly. This was our next battle of wills. I don’t know how long we stood there, but her face slowly began to change. She lost some of the cocky certainty that she was dealing with a kid.

I’d spoken loudly enough that the women in the room had heard us out here. I waited impassively. She was waiting for me to say something, but I’d already said everything. This choice was hers. Opening the door would take her forward. Returning to the stairs would keep that door closed for good. She watched me and I wondered what she’d choose. It didn’t matter to me. I’d already won. We both knew it. I could see in her eyes the knowledge that she’d grossly underestimated me.

She finally reached out, hesitantly and turned the knob, swinging the door open. I nodded and gestured her into the room. She went slowly and I could hear her breath hitch as she saw the room’s other occupants.

“What is this?” she asked, suddenly more uncomfortable.

“I told you,” I reminded her. “I would see you attended to as I would approve of if I were to be unable to give you my full focus. If my arm gives out, they’ve assured me that my will shall be done.” I closed the door behind me and clicked the lock shut. I led her to the desk and locked the cuffs around her wrists and then at her ankles and then I locked the collar in place and wrapped the belt around her waist and cinched it snugly, but not tight.