Chapter 1

In elementary school, Hardwick was the toughest of us, which was saying something because she was a girl. She was a tomboy’s tomboy. She wore jeans and t-shirts, played in the mud, and threw a baseball like she was born to it. She did not flinch seeing blood and would pound anyone who called her Jane into the ground. More than one bully found out the hard way that she had a mean right hook.

Hardwick lived in the house behind mine. We had a small, chain link fence between the properties, and our parents were forever telling us not to climb it, usually after one or the other had kicked a ball into the other yard, or one on the other side of us. We spent a lot of time kicking soccer balls around the back yard until we kicked too hard to be safe for the nearby windows and were banned to the park across the street.

Puberty hit Hardwick hard. And she seemed to hit back even harder. She was the first one in our class to show curves. It seemed one day she was flat-chested and the next, she wore a bra. Despite her parents’ best efforts, she continued to wear masculine clothes, even though she was forced to wear more feminine jeans as her hips began to flare as her ass filled out. She looked less like a boy with every passing month. Her one concession was her hair. While she kept her mousy brown hair cut short, it was always more of a feminine cut than a masculine one. But it was the summer between Grade 10 and Grade 11 that I will remember the most. We were both on the cusp of sixteen. Me, I was a couple of months older, she was a couple of months younger, not that it mattered to us.

It was a hot day in July, and my task was to mow the lawn. A job I detested, but even more because of the humidity. I had already tossed my t-shirt aside, and grass clippings stuck to my legs. The mower, never reliable at the best of times, had died with less than a third of the lawn left to finish. I had the beast up on its side and was chipping away at the multi-year collection of grass that was adhered to the underside’s roof when someone was suddenly standing in my light. I turned around, ready to vent my spleen, and stopped. The shoes were clearly female, cute white tennis shoes that would never play tennis and ankle socks. The ankles were bare, and the legs attached to them were smooth, with only a couple of nicks. My eyes moved up the legs, slowly noticing how long it took me to get to the bottom of a pair of very short shorts that did nothing to hide the white underwear. The rest of my view was blocked by the sun streaming over her shoulder, but there were plenty of curves. She moved, and I moved, and suddenly I was looking at a golden-haired goddess. From the waist of her shorts, there was another expanse of skin, over gentle muscles. Her half-shirt barely covered her healthy chest, also encased in white cotton, at least from below where I looked. What really surprised me was hair, though. Golden, sun-kissed, and sexy. She stood there, hands next to her hips, beginning to ball up into fists.

“Jane? You look ... beautiful,” I managed to say.

I hastily stood up and dusted myself off. I noticed her visage went from stormy to smiling. She stepped forward and grabbed my face before she kissed me. It was a quick, happy kiss as she pushed herself against me, then moved back.

“I am a bit sweaty,” I said as she looked down at her shirt. “You changed your hair.”

“Do you really like it?”

“Yes. For a minute, I thought the sun had done me in and sent an angel to take me to Valhalla.”

“That’s a Valkyrie, stupid.”

“Warrior-maiden. Same thing. Why the change?”

“Mom thought it would make me look pretty.”

“Well, you were pretty, now you look stunning.”

She smiled again.

“I gotta run,” she said. “See you later?”

“I will be here, probably still trying to finish the lawn.”

“I’ll bring our mower over then.”

“OK. Oh, um, Hardwick,” I said, stammering.

She turned and looked at me.

“The shirt is sexy as hell, but you might want to get something a bit longer.”

“She looked at me, then down at her shirt.”

“Or at least consider a different bra? One equally sexy?”

I was pleased to see her blush, then she stuck her tongue out at me and raised her fist.

“I will think about it, Jay. Later.”

With that, she ran out of the yard, and I returned to fighting with the mower.

Over the next few days, I saw her come and go, but I was busy with yard work and cleaning the gutters, inside and out. My mother’s special torture for me. It was guaranteed to take a week to clean the outside of the aluminum and the soffit by hand with a rag, a towel, and a bucket of water that needed to be changed every thirty minutes or so, on top of a ten-foot ladder that I had to move every ten minutes to make progress. At the end of eight hours, you come out with wrinkled hands and a sore back from all the contortions, and if you do not do it right, you leave streaks and have to go back over it again. I would much rather clean the chandelier. That only took a day, even if you had to take each strand of glass off the fixture.

I was around the far side of the house, the end of the task in sight, and looking forward to a shower. But there were still several feet to go, and it was time to move the ladder. I picked up my water bucket and gently climbed to the ground, where I put it down.

“How’re you making out?” I heard Hardwick ask.

I looked up, and she ambled towards me. She wore her everyday sneakers today, even if she still wore ankle socks. Her shorts were still short, nylon gym shorts that she preferred in the summer, and it seemed like her legs were an inch longer today than just the last time I had seen her. The t-shirt she wore was still short, and this one seemed a bit tighter. I am not sure if it was gravity or friction that held it in place. Or perhaps the points of her nipples, which appeared to be on full display. I wrenched my eyes up to her face with a lurch, where she smiled a coy smile at me. I also noticed her hands were at her sides, not bunched into fists.

“Oh, you know, the weather is changing tonight, so I have to finish this today or likely start again next week,” I said.

I am sure my voice was sour. I was drenched in sweat, my t-shirt tucked into the back of my shorts, and my shoes were wet from having dumped at least a bucket of water on them in the last two hours. I was sore and a bit surly, but I tried not to let it show.

“What’s up for tonight?”

“Tonight? Nothing that I have been told about, why?”

“You’re not celebrating?”

“Sorry, you’ve lost me. I’m tired, and I am not following.”

“Your birthday?”

“What about...”

I paused for a moment. Today was my birthday. I was sixteen today. Hooray for me.

“Completely slipped my mind. And I guess everyone else’s.”

“Happy Birthday, Jay,” she said.

She stepped close to me and grabbed my face. I had long since learned not to fight when Hardwick touched me, the pain would be over faster, but this time she kissed me. And it was more than a quick, happy kiss. It was like she wished me a happy birthday with that kiss. It seemed to go on forever, but it was only a second or two. She was in no hurry to step back, but she did. I am pretty sure she also noticed the stiffness she caused in my cock. How could she miss it? She ground against my groin with hers when she kissed me. I was unsure what to do next, so I did nothing, but I did thank her.

“Um, thanks. That was really nice.”

She simply smiled at me.

“I wouldn’t mind kissing you again,” I said, bravely.

She smiled and stepped forward, and we kissed again. I reached forward, and she did too. Our hands found each other, and we held hands as we kissed for another eternity. When we broke the kiss, we were both breathless, and her nipples seemed even more prominent if that was possible.

“I have to finish this,” I said dejectedly.

“I know. I just came by to wish you a happy birthday. See you tomorrow? We could go riding?”

“If it isn’t pouring down rain, you’re on.”

“Good. Oh, is this better?”

As she asked, she stepped back and pulled up her shirt. The vision of her two naked tits, complete with puffy, pointy nipples, greeted me. A small bead of sweat ran down the crevice between them, and I suddenly wanted to be that bead. She laughed, then pulled down her shirt.

“Maybe, if it’s raining, we take the bus downtown, and you can show me what you had in mind.”

“No, no, I think that’s just fine,” I managed to stammer out as she walked away.

She looked back over her shoulder.

“For you, but not for everyone. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” I said as I watched her walk away.

It was not until she had rounded the corner before I remembered my task. I rearranged myself, dumped the water, and get more.

Like a bad movie, I woke up the next day a year older and unacknowledged. The fact I fell off the ladder might have had something to do with it, but we will never know. The ladder was not properly extended, and I shifted as it shifted, and there was not much I could do as I pushed away from the aluminum, bounced off the grass, crashed against the fence, and stopped. I hurt everywhere as I tried to get to my feet. It took a couple of minutes, but that did not matter as my mother came steaming around the corner, yelling at me for breaking the window. Needless to say, dinner was not important to me, and clearly breaking the window was the greater sin. She went off to find something to put over the hole, which I had to put in place, and then I was sent to my room to await my father’s arrival home. Of course, he was not due for two days, but I am sure she forgot this. I pulled my clothes off and crawled under the covers. I am pretty sure I was asleep in seconds.

My alarm went off at seven the next morning. I got up, took a shower, and went upstairs to breakfast, where I awaited my fate for the day.

“What’s wrong with you?” my mother asked as I sat down.

Overnight I had stiffened up. There were several bruises that I could see but otherwise hid under my shirt or my shorts. My ankle was a bit sore, as well.

“I’m a bit sore,” I said.

I knew that looking for sympathy was a dead-end, so I did not even bother. Outside, the rain was falling steadily on the window.

“Don’t think you are out of the woods yet, mister,” she snapped. “That window is coming out of your allowance.”

Of course, it was.

“Today, you are sweeping out the garage.”

You could already eat off the floor.

“Where am I putting the things on the floor?” I asked.

“Why, in the yard.”

“And the rain?”

I was pretty sure she had not even clocked the precipitation falling from the sky. She turned and looked out the window before she walked out of the kitchen. I poured some cereal and juice and ate in peace. My sister would not be up for another hour and would get whatever she wanted for breakfast. My goal was to be gone before she got up.

“Do you still want me to sweep the garage?” I asked.

I knew the answer. She would never put her car out in the rain, but I still had to follow up before escaping.

“No. Just stay out of the way.”

I had my answer. I finished my breakfast, got dressed, grabbed my raincoat, and escaped. I walked around the corner and knocked on the Hardwick’s door. Mrs. Hardwick opened it and let me in.

“Hi, Jay. Happy Birthday!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hardwick. How are you today?”

“Very good, thank you. Do you want some breakfast?”

“No, thank you, ma’am. I ate already. Jane and I were going to go riding today.”

“It’s a bit wet.”

“Yeah, that’s why I came by. To let her know we couldn’t ride.”

“Well, come in and have some juice, at least,” she said.

I took off my raincoat and shoes and followed her into the kitchen. I sat down carefully in their kitchen, something Mrs. Hardwick noticed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just stiff. Aluminum cleaning week,” I said.

She chuckled a bit, being familiar with the annual tradition.

“Get it finished?”

“Only just. Then I fell off the ladder. Put it through my dad’s bedroom window.”

“Oh, my, are you OK?”

“Just stiff,” I said noncommittally.

“Jay, when you say you fell off the ladder, what do you mean?”

“Just that. The ladder shifted, I jumped free, bounced, and the ladder went through the window, which is coming out of my allowance. No big deal.”

“Jay, that’s not no big deal! What do you mean you are stiff? You bounced?”

Mrs. Hardwick was a pediatrician. Not mine, but she was well thought of, according to Jane.

“My ankle hurts, my back hurts. Pretty normal thinks.”

“Jay, you and I need to talk about what normal means.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I was saved from answering as Jane came down the hall. Her hair was in disarray, and her sleep shirt fell to mid-thigh, and clearly, she had little on beneath it. I saw her mother track my change in focus, but other than a smirk, she did not say anything as her daughter came into the kitchen.

“Hey, Jay! Didn’t expect you so early,” she said with a yawn.

“Mom wanted me to sweep the garage, then realized it was raining. I made my escape.”