Chapter 14: Mary and John First Time

John and Mary are Sandy and Randy’s parents. Here’s their story.

At 15, John felt a bit different from the other guys at school. Now well into his sophomore year in high school, he expected to graduate at 17 and head off to college, but then something changed. Not really changing his graduation date or college, exactly, but something that would merely change his entire life.

He met a girl. Not just any girl, but a 15-year-old 5 foot, 95-pound blond, blue-eyed girl. Cheerleader, of course, and entirely out of his league, at least he thought so. He was 5’ 5” a skinny 110-pound brown hair glass wearing brown-eyed geek teen boy. Not a jock, not a hunk.

She sat in front of him in math class. Luckily for him, math came easy because he spent the entire time in that class staring at the back of her head. He knew the placement of every hair, the curve of her obviously soft and perfect in every way neck. He knew how she moved when she sat up or slouched down. He could count the number of breaths she took each minute. She didn’t know he existed until one day.

Mary was frazzled that day. Her stupid “boyfriend” had discovered the squad’s captain, Miss Julie Baker bitch, and forgot she existed. Mary wondered why she ever bothered being a cheerleader considering all you got was backbiting girls and dumb horny jocks. And she had forgotten to read today’s chapter on geometry and now needed to turn in homework on it tomorrow, Friday, pep rally day of course with cheer practice with the bitches tonight.

Then that kid behind her starts tapping his pencil ... now his foot is tapping the leg of her desk ... She turns.

“Stop it!” she glares at him.

He freezes, nearly leaping out of his skin. He has no idea what he has done, but afraid his staring at the back of her head for half a year had been detected. His pencil goes flying, books falling; he kicks her desk as he grabs at his books. Her papers and books slide off the desk onto the floor, mixing with his.

The teacher looks up at the commotion just as the bell rings. Now kids are jumping up, dodging around the spilled books, notes, papers, pencils. Mary is on the floor, mad at herself, her stupid ex-boyfriend, and this kid knocking her stuff. Just then, John falls out of his desk, grabbing for the books, trying to pick hers up as well as his.

“I ... I’m sorry!” is about all he can sputter out while grabbing papers and books, trying to sort hers from his. She looks at him. He looks at her. She SEES him for the first time, even though he has passed her dozens of times in the hall, sat in this class for half a year, and embarrassingly sat in the bleachers just above her cheerleading squad at every home basketball and football game this year.

She’s mad, but madder at herself. She looks at him as he fumbles her books to her.

“You should be more careful.” She speaks. She speaks to HIM!

“I ... I will!” he sputters again, embarrassed.

She stands up. All 5 foot 95 pounds of perfection in a female teen body and says.

“Don’t tap your foot on my desk.” She turns...

“What? Sorry? Ah ... WAIT!”

She turns back, now a bit of a glare. He meekly hands her back her papers.

“Your name is John, isn’t it?” Oh GOD, she knows my NAME! “Ah ... yes.”

“I’m Mary.” He knew that 15 minutes after their first math class. Burned into memory. “Uh ... Mary.”

“You know geometry, don’t you?” She HAS NOTICED him. At least noticed the perfect 100’s on every math test so far...

“Ah ... well ... I ... guess...” he was panting.

She tells him, determined now, “Silly! Close your eyes, take a deep breath, open them, and answer. Do you know this geometry stuff?”

He obeys without hesitation. Eyes close, deep breath, eyes open. SHE is STILL THERE!

“Ah ... YES!” he affirms; the breath helps.

“Good! Meet me in the library right after the last class. I have 30 minutes before cheer practice. You need to show me geometry for our homework tomorrow. I HAVE to pass this class!”

“Ah. OF COURSE, YES, I CAN do that, YES, Thank you!” ( ... of course, I can compress weeks of mathematics into 30 minutes... )

She looks queerly at him. “Thank me? For what? Never mind.”

She turns and leaves in a whirlwind. His mind is blown as his defocused eyes and teenage brain watch her perfectly shaped rear end walk out of the room, hips swinging in ways that make grown men cry.

SHE NOTICED ME! She wants me to tutor her!

The next classes never register to John, as he watches the clock for that upcoming meeting.

The last bell rings. He’s already in the library, math book, papers, and pencils ready. Eyes glued to the doors. She walks in. She WALKS IN TOWARD HIM! Eyes close, deep breath, eyes open. She’s there looking at him, a cute part of a smile crosses her face as she recognizes her own stress reliever.

30 minutes ... must have been 30 seconds. Her eyes have glazed over as he rapid fired the unfathomable world of geometric mathematics. He looks at her, she is obviously lost.

“Ah ... maybe, maybe I could just let you borrow my homework.”

Her eyes clear. “That would be GREAT!” and off she went, his papers in her hands.

He sits in a daze, trying to return to earth. Suddenly, she’s back.

Panting, “You can watch us practice if you like...” and off she goes. His eyes glued to her, watching every movement of her body as she disappears out the door. OF COURSE, he is going to watch her practice.

He’s sitting in the stands as the squad comes out. Unfortunately, the football players come out too. They take over the area in front of where he was sitting, forcing the girls far away from the stands. There’s no one near them standing, so he’s too shy to follow. As he walks away, back towards the school buildings, he takes one last look. She’s there, far away, practicing their routines to no one. He pauses but then leaves. She sees him in the distance, but too far away. Silly kid, she thinks.

The next day, he’s waiting at the school entrance. He sees her getting out of her mom’s car, her bottom flashing black briefs showing under her cheer uniform. He blushes, looking around to see if anyone has caught him staring at her. She comes up the steps, and he comes up beside her.

“I ... uh, didn’t get to see you practice.”

“Oh. Sure.” She said breathlessly. She had forgotten all about that she had asked him.

“Here, I uh, think you better use this copy, uh, of, uh, to copy, uh, your math homework.”

“Huh? Wasn’t yours ok?” She stopped to look at him.

“Well, uh, uh, the teacher might get suspicious. Uh, ‘cause mine is, uh, too uh, correct.”

She looks at him, eyes squinting as he holds out a paper while holding his eyes to the ground.

It dawns, “Oh, so you think he would suspect if my homework went from a ‘C’ to an ‘A+’ in one fell swoop. You don’t think I’m CAPABLE of making an ‘A’?” she looks mad at him.

“Oh NO, I think you are very SMART, BEAUTIFULLY SMART.”

He looks her in the eyes finally.

Her eyes change as a smile appears, she laughs, “This guy’s so good that he even knows how to fake errors to make me look ‘normal’.”

Then she adds, “Beautiful smart? What’s that?”

He closes his eyes, breaths deep, opens, “I think you are beautiful. The most beautiful thing I have ever seen. As beautiful as Pythagoras’ theorem...”

She stares at him. She smiles again at his stress reliever. He really gets into that, she thinks ... he needs it.

She reaches over, takes the paper, touching his hand lightly as she does.

“Thank you, you are so sweet.”

As she turns away and opens the door to the school and says, “ ... even if I don’t know who Piegores is. See ya in class.” And is gone.

“Pythagoras...” he says to no one. Doesn’t matter. He is in LOVE.

As she walks down the hall, she sees ‘that jock’ ex-boyfriend. She ignores him as he whistles and calls her name, and “You miss me, Mary?” She shoots him a bird as he laughs.

Her thoughts turn unexpectedly to John. Her eyes light, and she smiles to herself. Something of ‘twin flame’ dances in her thoughts. “Silly boy...” she thinks.

In math class, she whirls in at the last minute, drops her homework in the box, slides into her seat, turns and slips his second paper back to him with a twinkle and a quick “thanks”. She turns back around, and he is staring at the back of her head, again lost to the world. She said, thanks. She knows I exist. She knows my name. She smiled at me! Oh jeez ... tapping starts. She shifts. He suddenly freezes, ‘NO more tapping!’ he tells himself.

The rest of the class goes quietly. Bell rings, her other cheer squad pounce on her, sweeping her away towards the pep rally. She doesn’t look back. He doesn’t care. He knows she knows he exists. At the gym, it’s crowded, but to him, it’s totally empty except for her, far across the gym floor, pompoms, cheers, dancing, just for him.

She doesn’t see him there.

That night’s game is away, so as usual, he doesn’t get to go. He ends up helping his mom clean up around the house, though his mind is elsewhere, re-watching HER lithe body move in slow motion in her short cheer outfit, kicking high, midriff showing once in a while, bottom wiggling as her pompoms shake.

Monday comes; she doesn’t appear in math class. Worried, he gets up the courage to ask one of the other girls, who, while looking at him suspiciously, tell him she just had a doctor’s appointment. It doesn’t settle him.

Tuesday, he waits outside for her to arrive, trying to think up an excuse. He only catches a glimpse as she is surrounded by her girlfriends. Finally, math class comes. She arrives. The world spins. He closes his eyes, breaths deep, eyes open; she is sitting in front of him, turning around to look at him. She’s holding a piece of paper, that math homework, ‘B’ at the top. ‘Good job’ underneath. She smiles as she shows him. It doesn’t register. He hears “thank you” and she’s gone, back of her head, beautiful head. Class completes, bell rings, she is gone. He walks out of the room, his eyes down at the floor. Someone taps on his shoulder. HER!

“John, this test coming on Thursday. Could you help me study for it?”

He stands there, processing the words. Test? Thursday? Study?

“Uh ... yes ... YES! Of COURSE!”

She giggles at his shocked look. She looks a little sheepishly as she replies, “Can you come over tonight. I suspect I will need all the time I can get. Here’s my number, call me.”

He looks at the piece of paper. There are numbers on it. 555 – 1212.

“That’s negative 657.”

She stares blankly at him.

“Ah ... the numbers, math, answer negative 657.”

She laughs a bright smile of perfectly straight white teeth.

“Silly, it’s my phone number, not a math problem!” She turns and is gone.

She does a quick look back, her hand to face, finger at mouth, thumb at ear, mouthing “call me!”

He stands, beet red. Of course, silly, it’s a phone number, not a math problem. Phone number. HERS! Before he realizes, he’s home ... should he call yet? Would she be home yet? Should he wait until after dinner? It’s 2:30, school was out 30 minutes ago. The phone is in his hand, paper unneeded, the number is burned into his memory. He will remember it forever. He can’t dial, goofs every other digit. Eyes close, deep breath, another, another, another, eyes open, he feels faint, hyperventilating. Pauses. Puts down the phone. Picks it up. Down, Up. He dials. He dials HER number. It rings. SHE answers on the first ring!

Oh God, words, I have to speak words. She says, “Hello?”

“Uh.”

She giggles, “Hi John. Deep breath.”

“Uh, I did that, hyperventilated.”

She giggles again, “Ok, let me give you my address, are you ready?”

HER address is burned into long term memory. No paper needed. He uselessly repeats it back carefully. She tells him he probably ought to come over as soon as he can. She needs all the help she can get if she’s going to pass this test.

He doesn’t drive yet, but she’s only (ONLY!) a few blocks away. (That CLOSE! ALL THESE YEARS!). He is out of breath as he jumps off his bicycle only minutes after telling his mom he was gone. She didn’t even get a reply as to where or when he would return. He would be in trouble when he got back.

Eyes close, deep breath, eyes open; the door opens without his knocking. SHE is there, giggling.

“I could hear you come up” as she spies his bike crashed on the sidewalk, front wheel still spinning.

“You are GOING to have calm down, John. I’m just a girl,” her eyes twinkle. (Yeah, right, and the Sun is just a light bulb.)

She leads him into her home. Her mother greets him.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Call me Sandra, please. Ma’am makes me feel old!”

“Yes, Ma’am ... Sandra.”

The girls laugh.

“Just Sandra, or if you must, Ms. Sandra.”

He sheepishly smiles. Her mom looks at Mary and gives her an approving look. She likes this kid. Better than that ‘other’ thing she brought home last time.

Mary takes John’s hand, her soft hand holding his own hand that now feels like an old sweaty mitten to him. She brings him to their dining room table, where her books are already laid out. They sit. She watches as her mom disappears into the kitchen.

She whispers, “Mom doesn’t let me bring boys up to my room...”

He stares at her, unable to conceive of him seeing her room.

“Uh, sure. Of course. No problem.”

Mom reappears with some drinks for them. Orange juice, but it could be prune juice for all he cared, he would drink anything she placed in front of him. Finally, Mary got John’s attention back to math.

He had learned to slow down and give her real-world analogies, even sports analogies, for the geometry, turning the formulas into games. She loved it. Afterward, she told him he should be a teacher. A professor. She also set plans for the next afternoon to continue.

She asked, “How are you at Science? Biology specifically?”

He blushed, biology... “Uh, ok, I guess.”

“What’s your grade so far, or should I bother to ask?”

“Uh, well, ‘A’ I guess.”

“I HATE you!”

She reached over and kissed him a quick peck on the cheek. He would never wash it again ... at least until shower tonight.

“Do you think you could teach me ... biology?” she blushed this time.

He was frozen. Time had stopped. That kiss.

“B i o l o g y,” he pronounced slowly.

“Uh, yes. Yes, biology.”

As she got up from the table, holding his hand.

“I think I need you to teach me LOTS of things.”

Her eyes were shining like blue-white stars. He was mesmerized, entranced. SHE wanted HIM to teach her ... BIOLOGY! Her Mom came into the room, the birds and bees disappeared.

“Won’t you stay for dinner?”

“Uh, I, ah, I think I have to go. now.”

Mary and her mom showed him to the door. Her mom had her hand on Mary’s shoulder, whispered: “He’s cute.”

“MOMMM,” she blushed as he peddled away.

Days later, math class, she turns and proudly shows her test paper ‘B’. Her smile at him causes the girls around her to go wide-eyed, slack-jawed, and immediately buzzing. Mary? HIM? Who is HE? He looks like a ... a ... geek! A nerd! Cheerleader Mary? ... with a nerd? Mary ignores it all.

He has visited her house so much now he has memorized everything on the walls, the tables, the floor, though he has only seen the front entrance, kitchen, dining room ... and guest bathroom.

It’s fall, and Mary’s mom and dad are proud that her grades have improved. Dad has only gotten to see John in fleeting glimpses as he is usually leaving right as he arrives from work. But the details he gets from his wife are high approvals. Something he is thankful for. Maybe no more Jocks for his little girl!

One day after classes, Mary runs up to John, all out of breath. She shows him her latest biology test. It’s an ‘A’! She is ecstatic, hugging him in front of all the other kids, even some of her ex-boyfriend’s team members ... and her cheer squad. She looks around at them watching her and kisses John, just a quick peck, but in front of everyone. Eyes bulge, mouths open, whispers buzz the air.

Before Mary lets him go, she whispers, “John, why don’t you ever ask me out?”

“Uh, out? Like ... like a DATE?”

“Of course, silly! You DO know how to go out, don’t you? Or do ‘I’ need to teach ‘YOU’?”

She doesn’t wait for his answer, “You say, ‘Hi Mary! Would you like to go out with me Saturday night?”

“Uh, Mary, would you like to go out with me Saturday night?”

She giggles so loudly the other girls move closer, trying to hear what’s going on.

“Yes, John. I would like to go out with you on Saturday. Thank you very much for asking me.”

She says loud enough for all to hear. John turns beet red. She lets go of him and hops down the steps, turning, hand to face, finger at mouth, thumb at ear, mouthing “call me!” as the girls close in on her, talking all at the same time.

“Mary, who is HE? Mary, are you REALLY going to go out with HIM? He looks like a nerd! Well, he actually looks kinda cute to me” one of Mary’s friends, another cute blond, speaks out while eyeing John up and down, wonder in her eyes. Mary glares at her. Her eyes saying, “Stay away! He’s MINE.” Girls always seem to get an interest in someone they can’t have. They all continue down the street, walking home on this lovely sunny day.

First Date

John had called Mary, stammered not sure what to say, while she suggested the local pizza parlor, which was within walking distance of her house and set a time of 7:30pm. He repeated her suggestion asking if she would like pizza and to meet at her house at 7:30pm. She giggled and said, “Yes”.

At 7:25, he was there, standing at the door, looking at his watch, waiting for 7:30. As usual, without knocking, she opens the door, tells him the precision is not required, yells back to her mom that they were leaving, who replies with a “Be back no later than 9:00” and the door closes, her hand slips into his and they are off, strolling down the sidewalk.

“Aren’t you going to tell me how I look?” she stops, steps back, and does a slow twirl.

He watches as the world spins around her. She is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. No painting, no sunset, no statue can compare. Eyes close, deep breath, eyes open.

She giggles. “I think we need to work on your people skills. You teach me, I teach you, agree?”

“Uh, yes, YES, you TEACH ME!”

She giggles again.

“Well?” she gives him a look.

He takes her hand. HE takes HER hand. She blushes.

He blurts, “You are ... BEAUTIFUL!”

“Silly, look at my clothes. How do I look?”

His brain finally registers something other than her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes. He looks down her perfection of a teen body. Her cotton top filled with her curves and her youthful breasts, her flawless arms. He sees the fabric move in unison with each breath, making her chest rise and fall. A denim jacket over her top. Her jeans, narrowing at her waist, widening at her hips, covering what must be a soft, youthful belly and extending down her legs, shaped but not tight, that in comparison to today’s fashion look rather baggy and loose, but that doesn’t matter. In his eyes, she is a fashion model, a teen idol, a goddess.

“You look GREAT!”

She laughs. “At least you have real clothes on, not some high school jock jacket and sweats.”

She retakes his hand. This time, snuggling closer to his arm. He’s walking on clouds.

At the pizza parlor, a small place that’s mainly carryout, they find a table in the back away from the foot traffic. He hesitates, not knowing what she might like.

“Ah, do you like ham?”

“Yes”

“How about pineapple?”

“Pineapple? On a pizza? Is this a fruit pizza?” she asks hesitantly.

He laughs, then smiles.

Her eyes light as she replies, “He SMILES! He is Real!”

He laughs again, blushing. “Ah, trust me? It’s called a ‘Hawaiian Pizza’.”

She giggles. “Does it come with little hula girls and paper umbrellas?”

He laughs again, smiles again. Her heart is warming.

He orders the pizza and some cokes. While they wait, he tells her all about Hawaii,

“It’s the 50^th state.”

“What? I thought Alaska was.”

“Both 1959, but Hawaii was August, Alaska, January.”

“Doesn’t Hawaii have mountains?”

“Volcanos actually, really big ones; Mauna Kea is actually the biggest mountain in the World at 33 thousand feet.”

“No! Mount Everest?”

“Well, most of Mauna Kea is underwater, nearly 20 thousand feet deep water.”

Her eyes widen. “Geography, you silly boy, you are teaching me geography now.”

He blushes and smiles just for her.

She giggles, “It’s ok, you make learning things so much more fun. Why Hawaii? ... besides the pizza”, which has arrived now.

She takes a tentative bite.

She glows, “I like Hawaiian Pizza!”

His smile is ear to ear in response. He is making her happy. He is on a date with the most beautiful girl in the entire school.

“You ask why Hawaii? I want to go there, have you been?”

“No”

“Did you know that Polynesians found Hawaii and traveled there in wooden outrigger canoes nearly a thousand years ago, navigating without instruments, only the Sun, Moon, Stars, clouds, waves and birds and fish.”

“You’re teaching again...”

He blushed. “I have heard that photos do not do it justice. That some people think it is the most beautiful islands in the World.”

“There, that’s better. It sounds wonderful. I’ve seen the silly beach movies and pictures and things, but I really don’t know that much about it.”

“I can teach you,” he slyly replies.

She giggles, “Now it’s me asking for a lesson again. Silly girl.”

He stops in mid-bite, looks serious at her, “One day, I am going to take you to Hawaii.”

She blushes and smiles, continuing a bite to keep her from saying out loud... ‘yes, on our honeymoon’.

They eat quietly for a while.

“I want ice cream!” she breaks the ice and clears her thoughts.

He laughs, “Well, I don’t think they sell any here.”

She smiles a bit mischievously, “We have LOTS at home!”

They walk home arm in arm, now she is tightly holding to his side as the temperature has fallen.

She asks him, “Do you like me?”

He’s stunned.

She continues, “I mean...” she stumbles a bit.

“I mean, I know this is our first ‘date’ though we have been together, TEACHER, for some time now. I mean, ah, you don’t want to date any other girls, do you? I mean, ah,” she looks up at him, halting their progress.

She finishes, “I mean, do you want to go STEADY? With me? No one else?”

He’s frozen. Eyes close, deep breath, eyes open, she’s worried, but she continues.

“Other girls have been asking about you. They think you are cute. They...”

He physically turns her, looks her straight in the eyes, her beautiful blue eyes.

“Mary ... Mary, will you go steady with me?” His diction perfect, his ‘Ah’s disappear. Confidence.

Tears come to her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes.

“Yes, John, I would very much like to go steady with you,” she responds formally.

He reaches down the few inches difference in their height and kisses her. Kisses her fully on the mouth. Their lips linger tightly together, her mouth opens slightly. His responds, as they kiss deeply, mouths hungry, pent up desires being released, together, under a starlit night lit by a streetlight, arms wrapped around each other, legs interlace, breasts pressing, a kiss forever remembered.

She whispers to him between kisses, “You need to give me something to show we are going steady.”

He thinks, quickly, what can I give her? He pulls off his jacket, just an old denim one, not really that different from hers ... hands it to her.

She smiles, giggles. “Oh, John! This is beautiful. I will treasure it forever!”

She giggles again and kisses him again.

They finally separate, she blushing profusely. He, as usual, beet red. Young lovers. She knows now they will marry one day. He takes her hand, checks his watch, it’s 9:05. He pulls her, quicken their pace.

“We are LATE!” he says.

She laughs, sexual tension broken.

“You silly boy! It’s ok, I think my mom and dad like you. I know they do. They won’t mind.”

He tries to look serious, “When I make a promise, I keep it.”

“Sure you do. That will change.” She says, not sure why.

At her front door, the light is on. She knows her mom and dad are likely just on the other side, so she quickly kisses him and whispers, “We’ll save the ice cream for another time. We have all the time in the World.”

He replies, “When can I call you?”

“Tomorrow, after church.”

“What church? I’ll join.”

She laughs, turns, opens the door, and is gone. His watch reads 9:12. He made her late.

The next week she is gone. He found out on that Sunday, her father was going on a business trip to Colorado and wanted to take his family, so they took Mary away with them. Probably for the best, let their teen blood cool a bit.

That week he discovered he was popular. In math class, another beautiful cheerleader from Mary’s squad moved on him, whispering in his ear and handing him her number. Another left a note in his locker, telling him that they wanted tutoring in ... biology, of course.

Then a couple jocks surrounded him and were about to give him a “warning” when their coach turned the corner and gave them a look and told them to get to the lockers now. Coach knew they liked to pick on other boys, particularly when the odds were stacked entirely in their favor. John just made sure to avoid them. He also avoided all the new “girlfriends”, knowing they were as much testing him to see if they could ruin Mary’s interests as anything else.

A week later, she returned. He straight out told her all that had happened, the girls, the passed notes, the jocks. He knew they would spin lies since he didn’t respond to their advances or their bullying. So she was prepared when she returned.

She heard about dates at fancy restaurants, kissing in the back of cars, first base, second base, more. She put on a face of shock and horror, working hard to keep from laughing at their pitiful attempts to make her jealous. Then to hit back at the jocks, she wove a convincing story to the girls of seeing Little Miss so-and-so on dates with several of the squad’s various jock boyfriends, which the girls believed hook line and sinker. The jocks were doing a lot of explaining later on, especially since most of the stories were actually true.

Since this was before cellphones, email, even the Web itself were common, the two had to make do with calling each other on the home telephone. This limited their ability to call late at night or talk for hours. But since they were only a 10-minute bike ride apart, they met face to face far more than many teens do today. So John became a fixture over at Mary’s house. Luckily, her parents approved of him.

Mary did visit his house but really wasn’t into bikes much anymore, being the ripe old age of 15, almost 16. She was pushing her parents to learn to drive. “Next year, when you are a Junior...” was the stock answer. John didn’t even try, as his family only had one car and Dad wasn’t about to let him drive it, at least not by himself.

After about the third date (excluding countless tutoring lessons ... yes, it was really tutoring, well mostly.) Mary actually took him on a tour of her house ... alone, with Mom’s approval. She led him through the usual stuff and then, hand in hand, her pulling him along behind her, into that holy of holy’s, the inner sanctum: her bedroom. The moment she entered, he felt her hand heat, her face flushed at the thought that Mom was allowing this visit unsupervised. The door did have to stay open, so whispers were in order. She showed her walls of posters, shelves of old stuffed animals, music boxes, snow globes, her desk ... and her bed. That’s as far as she was “allowed” to go. No opening panty filled drawers or even clothes closets. So a quick kiss and she pulls him out. No problem, he had memorized everything in there.

Downstairs they went thru an unexpected door, light on, down more stairs and into their basement.

“Wow, you have a pool table!”

“Do you play?” she inquired.

“Uh, no,” he confessed.

She smiled. “I’ll teach you!”

She racked up the balls, picked out a stick, chalked it and leaned her small body over the big table, and WHACK, CRACK, the balls broke around the table. Nothing went in.

“Well, I’m not the best player.”

“Come here,” she lined up another shot.

“Behind me. Closer.”

He came up behind her, about a foot away.

“Closer, you need to reach around me.”

He moves right up against her now, his arms on either side of her.

“Put your hands behind mine on the stick.”